#like six generations ago my people were lucky to even be fucking alive

[kisshim]

i’m telling you this country is heading in a downward spiral until we’re back in 1935

#i’ve said this like 10x before but do y’all know how the handmaid’s tale begins??? #getting rid of affirmative action is just … 😂 everyone is worried about the wrong fucking thing #like FUCK diversity in POST SECONDARY EDUCATION?? but let’s keep allowing civilians to buy assault rifles 🤣🤣🤣 #this is making me think of desantis like this is what people like him want #let’s regress so much in society and make it more difficult for people to succeed #each day passes and i think i need to emigrate #like you can’t be telling me this is real #like WHYYY WHY CANT THE SUPREME COURT GET rid of the damn second amendment i mean #honestly this is just a big fuck you #what they should be doing is ruling against fucking LEGACY ADMISSIONS #LIKE WHAT THE FUCK U MEAN THE WHITE GUY WITH SIX GENERATIONS AT HARVARD IS GETTING IN #like six generations ago my people were lucky to even be fucking alive #anD FUCK THE SUPREME COURT. i hate republicans yeah i’m name dropping fuck the reds #and fuck everyone in fact this is a fucking joke #next time some dumbass useless bitch is APPOINTED TO BE the FUCKING. JUSTICE. in the SUPREME COURT i need you to test them on the law #give them a knowledge test like PLEASE you’re fucking joking i hate this so much #it’s literally just going to get worse they’re gonna start telling us to stop teaching history at this rate #and then they remove evolution from science courses 💀💀💀 #LMFAO i hate it here

[inoankin]

My Bones Are Caving In

A week into their arrangement. Vincent doesn't sleep. (Ao3)

Vincent’s a liar, by nature. Or, by nurture, depending on who you ask. It doesn’t really matter. Everyone in his family was a liar, and so is he, and that’s just the truth. It’s one of the only things he’s actually good at. He’s so good, in fact, that he made a career out of it. He’s so good that he gets people to believe he’s good. He’s so good that he can convince himself of his lies, most of the time.

Vincent’s spent a lot of time in a lot of unsavory environments, doing what he does. He’s shaken hands with dealers and traffickers of anything which can be bought and sold. Drugs, weapons, people. And he knew a man, a few years ago. Well. ‘Knew’. He only met him once, but he’s known him many times. A flighty, fidgety fellow. The man was a mule, and a heroin addict. What little cash they gave him for smuggling drugs across the border always ended up in the hands of his dealer. And, it’s not like the people circulating the drugs were going to offer him any support, so the poor bastard always came crawling back. This man told Vincent he wasn’t an addict. That he could stop, if and when he wanted to. He’s fairly sure this man is no longer alive.

Vincent can pretend he doesn’t see the signs. He can lie to himself all the live-long day, but he’s not stupid. He’s shaken hands with career liars. And now his hands are shaking.

Leo’s been more restless recently, more irritable. Drastically so. It’s difficult to recognize him as the same man, sometimes. Especially when he hungers. There’s a part of him, the part of him that’s an esteemed federal agent, that wants to condescend, but he knows he has no place. He’s no fucking better. And, more than anything, he’s really just worried. Maybe he shouldn’t worry about the man who’s killing him slowly. But he does. It’s one of the only things he thinks about anymore. 

That, and… blood. Vincent doesn’t know which one of them thinks about his blood more, and he really doesn’t want to. Jesus Christ, he does not want to know.

It’s not necessarily his own blood that he thinks about, rather the general act of bloodletting. And how it affects the subject, the prey. And being prey. He thinks about being prey a lot. Which is worse, probably. It’s not like he can help it, though, not when Leo stares at him like a starved dog every hour of the day, salivating at just the sight of him. Vincent suppresses a shiver.

The engine drones on in the silence, and it’s still dark out. He’s pretty sure Leo doesn’t know he’s awake. It’s been difficult to stay asleep the past few nights; he can’t pretend he hasn’t connected those dots, as well. But this is a rare respite. An hour or two where he doesn’t have to squirrel away his thoughts. Which is good. This is good. He still feels drowsy, still warm and heavy-limbed, yet not entirely bound to the Earth by gravity.

One would think that a moderate dose of heroin would calm his mind for a little while. And yet.

That’s one of the things he hadn’t remembered, the first morning he’d woken up covered in his own blood. The toxin a vampire transmits into its prey’s bloodstream mimics morphine the same way heroin does. He’s not quite sure how, exactly. But even if he hadn’t recalled the information later, he can’t exactly ignore the fact that he’s high out of his mind right now.

Vincent’s an addict, by nature. One of the many things that runs in his family. It’s a miracle he hasn’t picked up anything but nicotine until now. But Gary hadn’t always been so lucky. His early twenties were a shit-show, and he could hardly hold onto a paycheck. He was good at hiding it, too. His captain had no clue. Vincent wouldn’t have known, either, if he hadn’t shrouded himself in deception his whole life. One day, he got a call from the PDFL — Gary hadn’t shown up to work for six days, no hide nor hair hinting at where he could have gone. Vincent just about had a heart attack. He told James not to investigate, he’d handle it and bring him back on his own. Not that he could promise that. But at that point, he had the billet and the respect to pull this one favor. 

After 77 hours of worrying himself physically sick, he found his brother in an honest-to-God crackhouse, and he decided enough was enough. Brought him home and spent the next few months working on sending him to Quantico. If anything was going to straighten him out, it was a step into the big leagues. A few outstanding recommendations and they took him. And, amazingly, it worked. Gary did his ten weeks and came back clean. From there, he thrived. A month before the sting, he was six years sober. Vincent had never been so proud.

Now, here he is. Decomposing.

The moon shines in on him, maybe his only friend right now. He wants a cigarette. He hasn’t had a cigarette since he started this mission, he realizes. Next stop, he could probably swipe a pack. 

It’s easy to fall into substance abuse after experiencing a tragedy like this. Two days after the funeral, his supervisor made him see a counselor. He’d lit up in the man’s office, and that’s what he said to him. It’s easy to fall into substance abuse after experiencing a tragedy like this. Like he didn’t already know that. Like he hadn’t seen it first-hand when his mother died. His whole family was alcoholics and junkies. The counselor was lucky a puff was all he wanted. 

Then again, hubris always had been Vincent’s undoing.

He wonders: if he dies out here, will anyone ever find him? Leo wouldn’t spare him the decency of a burial, and he wouldn’t deserve it anyway. Would he just dump him? Or stuff him in the trunk? He supposes it doesn’t matter. 

He blinks slowly at the stars as they blink back at him, his body a strange blend of dead tired and wide awake. His eyes fail to focus in the dark. That itch is back.

#this is probably how i'm going to do this from now on #it's less ugly #vincent moretti #first bite #a way out #velvet writes

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Nine]

Summary: Will Poe and the reader be reunited?

Warnings: Angst, character deaths, language, smut. TW-pregnancy, birth, infant, breastfeeding. WC—+10k

A/N-At the end.

“Rey,” At the sound of her name, Rey paused and glanced around to see Leia standing next to the Falcon, waiting. Meeting her kind eyes, she hoped Leia wasn’t going to try and convince her not to go again; she’d already told the wise General that she had to find the Wayfinder, that she needed to complete Luke’s mission and get to Exegol. Finn, Poe, Chewbacca and C3PO were already on board, waiting for her to join them; it was time to leave.

“Leia?” She stepped toward her mentor, who looked around cautiously before lowering her voice to speak to Rey.

“I need to give you something.”

Rey frowned, confused, glancing down to Leia’s empty, “What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, her eyes tired. Rey understood—she felt exhausted too. “I can’t explain it. And you must keep it to yourself until the moment is right—trust me, you’ll know when that is—if you do end up needing to,” Leia took hold of Rey’s hands, squeezing, “I’ll show you, but you must keep it tucked away no matter what.”

Seeing the seriousness in Leia’’s eyes, Rey swallowed and nodded, “Of course. I promise.” She returned the pressure to the General’s hands and watched as she reached up and pressed her fingers gently to Rey’s temple.

In a brief flash, Rey saw enough to understand.

As he was pushed roughly through the doors to an open hangar with Finn and Chewie, Poe couldn’t help but reflect on his life over the past year and a half. He’d had a lot of close calls, even been captured, but this was the first time he felt like he was going to die, as General Hux and a couple of Storm Troopers stood behind them, ready to execute Poe and his friends. He hoped Rey was able to escape, at least.

And Leia could get the news of his death to you. She would make sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. He had no regrets, no, not with you on some planet far away from all of this and free to raise the baby. He’d done everything he could, fought as hard as possible, but that didn’t mean he was guaranteed to live.

Poe tried to picture what the baby might look like, whether they got your smile, his hair. Pain shot through his broken heart that his child would grow with only pictures of him, no memories. He glanced up at Finn, eager to distract himself; he could hear Hux speaking to the Troopers and ignored them.

“What were you going to tell Rey before?”

Finn hesitated, appearing uncomfortable, “You still on that?”

“Oh,” Poe frowned at him incredulously, “Is this a bad time?” He just wanted to hear Finn admit aloud he had feelings for Rey. He could sense it between them, especially recently, and thought that they made a good pair. In another life he could see himself with them, you at his side, enjoying a late-night dinner, laughing around a table while the kids pretended to be asleep in their bedrooms.

Nodding, Finn gave Poe a wary look, “It sort of is?” Poe scoffed, shaking his head.

“So I tell you my deepest secrets but right before we’re about to die you’re locking down on yours?” Poe hadn’t just told Finn about you; after he’d confessed your existence, he hadn’t been able to stop sharing with his friend, who listened attentively as Poe described his life with you, how he’d love you since he was ten years old.

Finn blanched, and after a pause opened his mouth to respond, only shots went off behind them and they flinched. Poe expected to feel pain, or perhaps nothing if the shot was well placed, only they heard thuds behind them and instead glanced around to find Hux holding a blaster, eyes on the dead Troopers momentarily before he looked up at them.

“I’m the spy.” He claimed, a dark smirk on his twisted face, and Poe felt a rush of confused relief—he and Finn exchanged looks as Chewie groaned.

“What?” He exclaimed at the same moment Finn yelled, “You?” In disbelief.

Hux ignored them, “We don’t have much time, we have to go.” He gestured for them to follow and after a brief pause, they hastened to climb to their feet.

Poe hurried forward and grabbed a few of the fallen Troopers blasters, passing them to Finn and Chewie before taking one for himself. His blood was rushing, the feeling of being alive still—of getting lucky, again—made him feel powerful like you were out there somewhere sending him the strength and good fortune that he needed at every turn.

As they ran behind Hux, Finn touched Poe’s arm. “That was too close—made me realize, do you have a way of her knowing if something happens to you?”

Poe nodded, “Leia will tell her.”

But he sincerely hoped that would never happen, that you wouldn’t be standing in the doorway of some home he’d never know and hear the words that he had died, that he was never coming for you. The idea of you being in that kind of pain was something he couldn’t fully fathom, and it only renewed his determination to get to the Wayfinder and finish this fight once and for all.

11 Months Ago

“Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

Memories of your life with Poe had a way of burrowing into the forefront of your mind when you least expect them; when you let your guard down. The emotional goodbye all those years before, back on Yavin-4 when you were just kids—Poe leaving with Charlie to join the Resistance...it was a lifetime ago. And as much as you believed his words both then and now, it didn’t make the pain any easier to endure as you lay here without him, the Healer and Kes having left you alone with the newborn baby cradled in your arms.

You were surprised when the Healer had passed you the baby—after almost nine hours of labour—to see the tuft of dark curls on their head; Kes had remarked that Poe had come into the world with as much hair, and you’d laughed through your mixed tears of sorrow and joy and love. So they took after their dad—what a beautiful, heartbreaking thought.

Stars, you hoped Poe would meet them before long--before they grew too much. Just seeing the tiny creature, skin-to-skin with you like the Healer recommended, both made your heart feel complete while simultaneously tearing it apart. He should have been here to hold your hand, to cut the cord and press soft kisses to both of your heads and cry tears of joy from it all.

It wasn’t fair. Up until this moment you’d been able to lock back to anger and the bitter feelings over having let Poe send you away because it had been the right choice no matter what way you looked at it. But now, as you lay exhausted and bursting with love for the baby you made with your soulmate, you let some of that anger free through wretched sobs because it wasn’t fair that he had to miss this, that for all you knew he could be...

You stopped yourself from thinking of the worst-case scenario. It wasn’t helpful to imagine what he was doing now, where he was, if he was okay. And you’d promised him you would keep him alive in your mind unless you knew for certain that he wasn’t.

A small whine met your ears and you glanced down at the baby, smiling at their pinched expression as they struggled to adapt to their new surroundings. “It’s okay, little bug. Mama is here, shhh...” You cooed softly, running a lone finger over their hair in a gentle motion. You watched their eyes flutter beneath the lids, enjoying the feel of your touch, and then froze when they opened their eyes for the first time to look up at you blearily.

Stars, they had Poe’s eyes.

Now - 35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

When Temmin died, Poe truly began to lose all hope.

Before watching another friend’s x-wing get shot down, he’d managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel for that hope, for any remaining belief that they could win this fucking fight. That everything he’d ever sacrificed was worth it because now they had arrived and it was time to put an end to it all—but then he was screaming for Snap to watch his six, heard the anguished cry through the comm when he was hit, the searing memory of losing Charlie so many years before in the same way making his stomach churn, and he just felt so...

So fucking hopeless.

Leia was gone. The Resistance was down to pathetic numbers, and he had finally lost all hope.

Shit, if he was being honest with himself he’d been running through these last few days with urgency and adrenaline that prevented him from overthinking the odds, a blissful denial that anything other than winning could occur. When he’d told the remaining fighters of the Resistance that this was their final stand, that help would come, he had meant it as much as he’d hoped it was true.

“Help will come if they know there is hope,” Poe had stared around at his friends, at their doubting expressions, “They will. We have friends out there. The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone. We’re not alone—good people will fight if we lead them.”

In all of the time that had passed between when he’d said goodbye to you to this moment, he’d never once regretted sending you far away from the fight. Even here, with Rebel, after Rebel dying and a fleet of Destroyer’s that would wipe out entire planets unless they bent to the will of the First Order, he felt a sense of peace knowing that you were safely tucked away well beyond the reaches of their tyranny. His child would grow up with a mother who could share stories of Poe’s life, his love for you, for them.

It still stung, though, knowing he would never see you again. That he would die fighting and his last thoughts would be of you, of his little family, and you would have no idea. He hoped when you did find out the Resistance was done, the fight was lost, that you didn’t take it too hard—didn’t blame yourself in any way. He wanted you to be mad at him, not at yourself, not after everything you’d done for him, everything you had sacrificed.

He almost could have laughed, bleak as the outlook now was it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that no aid had arrived, that Lando and Chewie flew to the inner core worlds for nothing—clearly, no one was coming. Just like the Battle of Crait, they were alone; only now Leia was gone and Poe was the General, he was the one everyone was screaming for orders from through the comms, he was the one that had to say it aloud.

“My friends,” His voice was scratchy, choked up, as his mind played flashes of his life—of you, of losing Charlie, marrying you, losing Leia. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

He would die taking down as many enemies as he could. He would tell the rest of them to either do the same or flee—he wouldn’t blame them if they fled. Poe could almost imagine himself doing it, but the idea of finding you somewhere out there and saying he’d left at the final hour made bile heave in his stomach. He would never abandon the fight, not when you had wanted to stay as much as you had, but left for the baby.

As he struggled to pull in a breath to speak, he recalled the last time he saw you.

It was late, the base quiet and most of the Rebels sleeping, all except for Poe and you—it was time to say goodbye, under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t allowed to follow you into the hangar because he couldn’t know even the most minute details of how you got off-planet. Still, he would walk you as far as he could, and savour every final second together.

“I changed my mind, I’m not leaving you.” You whispered, halting in the hallway and turning to face Poe. One hand ran absentmindedly over your swollen stomach, the other reached up to grip his forearm. Your lower lip trembled, and he felt every word you wanted to say to convince him you should stay.

Poe took a shuddering breath, “Sweet girl, you aren’t leaving me—stop thinking about it like that. You’re saving our baby, keeping them safe, remember?” He tried to keep the desperate plea minimal in his voice because it had been like this for the last few days. One moment you were reluctantly prepared to leave, the next you were begging to stay. He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could stand before he broke down and let you stay.

Your pretty eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, just like his. You’d each cried more than enough to last a lifetime, and although heat pricked the corners of his eyes now he knew no more tears could come until you were out of sight. He would cry in his bed alone tonight, and probably every night until he saw you again, but right now he needed to show strength.

You stepped into his arms and Poe hugged you close, your body angling your stomach so that it wasn’t pressed between you both. “I don’t...Poe, I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”

Poe stared at you in disbelief, “Not strong enough? Are you kidding me?” He brought his hands to cup your cheeks gently, “You are the strongest person I know. What you are about to do for us, for our baby, is the most incredible sacrifice anyone could make. Everything you are doing and have done in your life only proves how amazing and strong you are—no matter what happens, please never forget that, okay?”

You whimpered sadly, nodding your head, and Poe shakily pressed his lips to yours, capturing you for one last kiss. It was soft and for one brief moment, he let himself imagine it was a greeting, though in truth it only made his heart fracture further rather than make him feel any better.

“Whatever happens, Poe, we’ll be okay...so don’t worry about us, focus on yourself,” You reached up and pushed your hands into his curls, savouring them one final time. “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting, flyboy.”

Poe smiled sadly down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your beautiful face, “Never, sweetheart, I promise I’ll never stop fighting. And this isn’t goodbye,” He pressed one hand gently against your belly, “It’s just a...see you soon. Once I’m finished blowing shit up in my x-wing.”

You laughed, tears streaming down your face and then pulled Poe against you again, his hand stuck between your bodies as you crushed him in a strong embrace. “I love you, Poe.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

35 ABY - Sorgan

You missed flying, though the place Leia had sent Kes and you to barely had any air traffic, the planet much too out of the way. Still, it had a sky that night or day you’d find yourself gazing into, wishing you could feel that weightlessness that came with blasting off from base, that you would look to your left and see Poe in his ship, the stars stretching beyond.

Poe. Stars, you missed him more and more every day. You had trouble believing it had been over a year, that the baby was now eleven months old and starting to try and walk and they’d never met their father. Though each time this knowledge became too heavy, you reminded yourself of the peaceful life you were living on Sorgan and how that had been the whole point of you leaving the fight—for the baby, for safety.

Sorgan was so far removed that no news reached the planet from the middle and core rims, something you’re sure Leia knew when she decided to send you here. You sometimes felt suffocated, not knowing a single thing about what was happening out there, but then you knew if you did know, it might make it harder to stay. And you couldn’t leave, you knew that for certain the moment you’d laid eyes on your newborn when the Healer had set the baby in your arms, face pinched as shrieks filled the air until they’d calmed, skin to skin with you.

You had gazed at the beautiful baby and you knew that you could never bear to part from them, no matter what you did or didn’t know about the war. Nonetheless, it was perhaps infinitesimally easier to be ignorant and allow yourself to imagine that it was all going fine.

You were living in a small but cozy yurt on the edge of a fishing village. The simple space comprised of the main room that hosted the barebones kitchen with a big table to eat at and a couple of comfortable sitting chairs, and had two rooms, one on either side, for sleeping quarters. The baby was in a crib at the end of your bed, where you were laying now. Very much awake even as they slept soundly.

Or so you thought until you were jerking from your thoughts at their sudden cries. You waited for a minute, the soft cries more whimpers than anything, and hoped the baby would soothe themselves back to sleep. They hiccuped, however, and started to cry again from the jolt. You sighed before sliding out from under the covers and padding softly to their crib.

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” You accused, grinning at the baby with the scrunched face, all the drama of their dad and only eleven months. Carefully lifting them, you tucked the baby against your chest and began to stroll slow circles around the bedroom, swaying as you went. “You know, when your dad finally comes and meets you he’s taking night duty over. I don’t care how many wars he wins.”

The little coo you got in response was enough to tell you Bug was on your side.

Though every day apart from Poe was painful, you did savour the good moments with the little piece of your heart that remained, beating for the baby you held now. And on this peaceful, sleepy planet most days had plenty of good—even if you were sad. Kes was an incredibly positive man, and like his son knew how to read you well, often stepping in to whisk the baby away whenever he sensed your sorrow was too hard to contain. You tried to spend all of the energy you had smiling for Bug because that was the only thing you could really do.

The guilt was heavy. You knew Poe would be devastated if he knew just how much you carried, living so comfortably—if a little rustic—on Sorgan all while he spent every day fighting to stay alive. But it was easier to focus on that guilt, to hate yourself than it was to be afraid of losing him—never seeing him again. Stars, the guilt was practically a salve in comparison to that.

Some days though, it was harder to keep the frame of mind that staying was the only option. As the baby grew, the guilt began to feed a steady flow of ‘what if’s’ into your mind. It was getting harder to ignore the sense of it. When Bug started to mix food into their diet, weaning partially from your breastmilk, you told yourself you could wean them completely, earlier than you planned but then you could hire a ship to take you back to D’Qar...

Only, you didn’t even know if D’Qar was still safe anymore.

It was a circular battle you couldn’t win no matter the choice you made, though you always chose the baby, chose to stay because you promised Poe you would. He’d told you that you were making the greatest sacrifice, and he had been right—he knew he could distract himself with the fight, and that you would only be able to distract yourself so much with raising the baby. He understood you would spend every day apart wishing you could rejoin him.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts and you glanced down at the baby to find them fast asleep again. You smiled fondly, that little chunk of your heart giving a happy beat as you settled them back into their crib and ran your fingers gently over their soft cheek.

“Goodnight, Charlie, my sweet girl.” You whispered heart clenching at the sight of her chubby cheeks relaxed in sleep.

Deciding a cool drink was needed, you slipped from the quiet of your room and into the main extension of the yurt you shared with Kes. A single lamp lit the small space dimly, and you helped yourself to a glass of water and took a seat at the table. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before Kes appeared and sat down across from you with a knowing smile on his face.

He sat silently for a few minutes as you sipped at your drink, speaking only once you’d finished. “Can’t sleep again?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, exhaustion setting deep in your bones.

“I keep having the same dream, Kes. Poe and Bug, back home on Yavin-4. Only, the beach is in colour but they aren’t.” You choked up, glancing toward your room, where you could see the crib through the doorway.

Kes followed your gaze, “Bug will meet him someday. I know it. You need to believe that too, kiddo, and you really need to get some sleep.” He patted your hand gently before standing and you watched him make his way to his room, pulling the curtain across his doorway as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your palms into your closed eyes, willing your mind to settle so that you could go to bed and get some rest. You just don’t think you could stand to have the dream again—always waking up and wondering, would you ever really get to see Poe again? Would he ever get to meet his little girl?

When you climbed back beneath the cool sheets of your bed, you fell into light sleep, your dreams the same as ever—Poe playing with Charlie on the beach back home on Yavin-4 while you sat on a blanket on the sand watching, laughing as they splashed each other. Your family, together again.

35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

As wretched as it was to think of never seeing you again, this wasn’t the first time he thought he was going to die. At least here, in his x-wing, he could take out as many enemies as he could before going out in a blaze—just like...like Charlie.

“I thought we had a shot. There’s too many of them.” He finished speaking to the remaining fighters in resignation, his eyes heavy—he was tired, so tired. Enough so that when a new, familiar voice came clear over the comms, he sat up straighter before his mind even registered what they were saying.

“Oh, but there’s more of us, Poe. There’s more of us.”

Poe spun his ship around, his heart frozen in his chest, flew up over the wreckage of the one First Order ship they’d so far managed to take out—and there it was.

Lando and Chewie were back; he could see the Falcon, and behind them were thousands and thousands of ships. And still, more coming as he looked, pulling out of light speed to fall in with the Falcon. Poe could hardly believe his eyes, but right before him, he couldn’t doubt for a moment that his friends had come back and they...

They had brought hope.

You sat with your toes in the water, the sun shining on your back warm and comforting. Charlie splashed around happily, her water suit covering her arms and legs, joining her cute straw hat in protecting her from too much sunlight. She kept looking from the water around her chubby legs to the flowing stream behind her-as if dissatisfied with the ankle-deep water you had set her in.

“You can go in the river in a few years,” You cocked a brow at her as she gave you a pouty look. “You’re very cute, but mama says no.”

With a resigned sigh that seemed far too mature for her, she went back to splashing the water and you slid your toes towards her, wriggling them so that she tried to catch hold. When she managed to grab your big toe, you laughed and she giggled brightly, her gleeful peals filling the quiet around you.

It was a beautiful day on Sorgan. They all were, really, even the rainy days, the ones that kept you inside the yurt listening to the rain while Kes tried to teach Charlie how to crawl and you laughed as you watched them. But the sunny days were the best, the ones you could fill with endless activity to distract yourself as much as to tire out the baby. Because when your mind settled, it tended to stray off into dark thoughts.

Maybe Poe was gone.

Maybe he would never come to find you here, your little family would be memories of Poe as you raised his little girl with Kes instead. The weight of that responsibility, of ensuring she had a happy life all while missing a whole section of your heart for the rest of your own was heavy so you tried not to overthink it.

You channelled that energy into Charlie, focused on her and you think you were doing a good job of keeping her safe and content. You showed Charlie pictures of Poe every day, wanting to ensure she knew his face even if she would never get to see it in person. She’d been looking at him since she was just a little bean, and you repeated his name, ‘dada’, every time as well. She wasn’t speaking yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the association in her mind when she was ready to start talking.

Charlie stopped splashing and glanced up at you with wide eyes, her expression familiar. “Hungry, Bug?” You reached out for her and lifted her from the water, carefully standing and wading to the grassy spot you’d set your picnic up.

You dried her off first, then let her crawl on the blanket while you dry your feet before following her to sit. She beelined for you as you untied your tunic, lowering one side and easing your breast out, grateful your nanny droid had provided you with a soothing balm for your aching nipples. Breastfeeding was your favourite way to bond with her, but Stars, it came at a cost.

You settled Charlie against you and watched as she closed her eyes, suckling softly. You adjusted the tunic to protect her from the sun and fell into a quiet state as she fed. It was sometime later that the sound of a large ship captured your attention, breaking you from your meditation.

Charlie was asleep against you, her face still pressed to your breast, and didn’t stir as the ship, far in the distance, flew past. You wondered briefly, a jolt of electricity coursing through you wondering if it was Poe come to find you both. But when the ship flew only further away, you pushed the idea from your mind. It was probably a shipment from the core worlds going to the markets. You made a mental note to plan a trip there for the next day—if there were fresh supplies, you might find a treat or two. Get something nice for Kes, perhaps.

Feeling exhaustion hit, you napped with Charlie there on the river's edge. You had nothing to fear on Sorgan, and in fact, many of the neighbours in your village were around, not too close but enough so that if needed they could come and wake you. You kept Charlie protected from the sun but let it shine on you, the brightness no match for the gentle lull of sleep, the soft trickle of the river.

When you woke an hour later, you felt more rested than you had in some time, pausing as you sat up to stretch the kinks from your body. Charlie was wriggling and you knew she probably needed to be changed. “Time to go home?” You asked her with a grin, and she made a sour little face in response that made you laugh. You loved how expressive she was, how even though she wasn’t talking yet she managed to let you know how she felt.

With practiced movements, you packed up the little picnic, hoisted your bag over one shoulder before lifting her to sit against your hip, and made the short walk home. Kes was sitting outside the yurt when you arrived, reading, though he set the book down at the sound of your footsteps and grinned widely when Charlie cooed for him.

“Did you have a nice time, ladies?”

You smiled, “She sure loves the water, I should start taking her in the river, see how she likes floating,” Kes took her from you carefully—Charlie made a face and you both laughed, “Sorry, Kes, I think she needs to be changed.”

“No worries, you relax for a bit and I’ll deal with diaper duty.”

Nodding gratefully, you set your bag down on the chair Kes had vacated and turned to gaze out at the grassy lawn. It was a simple home, certainly not where you would have planned to raise a baby, but it was peaceful. You start to think about the next steps, how long you would stay on Sorgan before leaving. You would go ahead first, find out if it was safe, and then you wanted to return to Yavin-4. Not for a few years, although you’d like to leave before Charlie got too old and she was too attached to this place.

You stepped away from the front of the yurt to stare out over the fields. First towards the villagers as they came in from working for the day in the waters, ready to put their feet up before making dinner, and then you turned toward the river and watched the water for a while, your arms crossed, listening distantly to Charlie and Kes making each other laugh inside.

When a voice broke through your thoughts a short while later, you started in surprise before spinning, recognition of the honey-warm tone slamming into you.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

“Rey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you—“

Rey cut Poe off, gripping his arm with a soft smile, “It was Leia, Poe. She found me before we left Ajan Kloss, she put the coordinates in my head, just in case she didn’t make it.”

Poe hugged her quickly, “Still, without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find her here.” He hurried to the ramp, hitting the button to lower it with excitement mounting within him by the second.

“What do you want us to do?” Finn was standing next to Poe as he waited for the ramp to lower onto the grass.

Poe glanced up at his friend, “I have to go alone, can you wait for me here? I’ll come for you—or send for you—if I find them.” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke, nerves slicing his stomach to pieces. He hadn’t felt this close to you in almost a year and a half.

Finn nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’ll wait. She has to be here, Poe, you’ll find her.” He clapped Poe on the shoulder encouragingly and he swallowed, unable to form a response so he just returned a half-smile and then clambered down the ramp.

Sorgan was a quiet, sleepy planet full of green. If you were here, the idea that you spent all this time in such a place was comforting to Poe—you would have been able to enjoy the land, be outside, not cooped up somewhere.

He was in a small village, and the market that lined the street was bustling with after-work crowds that were in the tens, the people all smiling at one another in a way that revealed how kind of a place it was. He wandered for a few minutes until he spotted a stand that carried medical supplies and approached the vendor, a friendly-looking older woman who grinned at him.

“Hello, stranger. How can I help you?”

Poe held up the photo he had of you, one he’d taken not long after finding out you were pregnant, your hand on your small belly and a big smile on your face. “Have you seen this woman, ma’am?”

“That’s Mrs. Carstairs,” She responded with a small nod. Poe felt his insides inflate, his excitement now ready to burst forth in a shout of glee that he had to bite back. He took a steadying breath, realizing that you had used your mother’s maiden name as your cover.

He grinned, “Yes, (y/n)—“

The woman cut him off, her eyes widening, “Oh now, you must be the husband. Now that I look at you, the baby has your eyes.”

Poe’s stomach turned over at this information. The baby had his eyes? “That’s me, do you know where I can find her, please?” He made to pull out some credits to pass over to the woman for her trouble, only she reached over to take his hand gently and shook her head, smiling.

“No need for that, dear,” She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby road that split off from the village, “Just follow that, about twenty minutes you’ll come across a fishing village. She lives right off that road on the outskirts of the village.”

Saying his thanks quickly, Poe ran faster than he had in his life in the direction she had indicated.

When he finally saw the little yurt along the main road, he breathed a sigh of relief. The sun was lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow over the ponds, fields and the nearby river. It was beautiful, and as he passed the fishing village he smiled at the villagers, who gave him curious looks before returning friendly smiles. He slowed to catch his breath, his eyes moving back to the yurt, now much closer. And then his gaze snapped to a figure standing not far from the door, gazing out in the direction of the river.

It was you.

His heart about ripped out of his chest at the sight of you alive and well. The closer he got he could see how you’d barely changed—your skin had seen more sunlight, your hair was longer, and he could see the soft curves of your figure that motherhood had brought on. He watched you for a moment, standing a few feet back, and he could hear his dad inside the yurt making a baby laugh.

Making his baby laugh.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

You spun around so fast you were a blur, though Poe didn’t miss the way your hand twitched toward the blaster at your hip before your eyes landed on him. Seeing this only made him grin more broadly, but nerves for the reunion kept him rooted to the spot. What if you were angry with him? The thought hadn’t occurred to him before this, but perhaps you-

“POE!” You cried out, and then you were running forward and jumping into his arms and it was everything he’d dreamed of and more. He caught you and held you close as you both fell to your knees in the grass, and Poe let himself get lost in the moment, sobs pulling from deep within.

He hugged you as tight as he could and then started to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you. Stars above, I missed you,” He murmured, his eyes closing as your fingers sunk into his curls and tugged him, your lips crashing to his in a desperate kiss that felt exactly like coming home.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to find us,” You whimpered after pulling back, your body still pressed against his, “I can’t believe you’re finally here...”

Poe shook his head, “Leia had a backup plan all along. Stars, you are so beautiful,” He swept his fingers over your cheeks, getting a good look at you now and seeing how well cared for you looked; Sorgan had been good to you. “I’m here now. It’s over, we’re safe now.”

You released your hold on his head to run your hands over your face, wiping at your tears, “Poe, the baby’s just inside, I—”

Poe and you both turned your heads at the same time at the sound of Kes coming out the door, his excited shout of glee making you both grin wider. He was holding the baby in his arms, and they looked around at the sound of your laugh, eyes just like Poe’s wide and curious—what a beautiful sight.

For a beat, the baby just stared at him, and then as Kes moved closer, a smile—a little smirk just like yours—appeared.

“Dada!”

Kes froze and glanced down at the baby in surprise, and Poe heard you gasp, one of your hands landing on his arm and squeezing excitedly. “That’s right Charlie, sweet girl, this is your Dada!”

Poe couldn’t stop staring at the baby, who hadn’t looked away from him either even as you spoke to her. She made grabby hands then, reaching for him and he tentatively raised his hands. His dad closed the gap between them and lowered the baby and he took hold of her cautiously, words caught in his throat and his heart beating fast.

She was a solid thing, sturdy in his arms and cooing happily as she gazed up in wonder at Poe. She was stunning, her eyes honey-brown and lined with thick, long lashes just like yours. Her skin was soft, and she was chunky, her baby rolls making him smile wider. After a minute, she spoke again, “Dada!” She raised her little fists towards his scruffy jaw before glancing at you.

Poe followed her gaze, “How does she know me?” He breathed, his heart in his throat.

Your watery smile only grew, “Showed her your picture every day. Wanted her to know her daddy, even if he...he couldn’t be with us,” You shuffled closer, one arm securing itself around Charlie and grasping Kes’ arm. “That was her first word, Poe. She said it just for you.”

Tears stinging at his eyes, Poe sat huddled with his family, clutching the baby closer with one arm, the other around your shoulders. His dad had thrown his arms around both you and Poe and was lamenting about how good it was to see him while Charlie cooed happily in his arms.

The moment was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Poe couldn’t put Charlie down. He carried her around for the rest of the evening, following you into the comfortable yurt you had called home all this time, one hand always on you, keeping you close.

Dad was making dinner and Poe enjoyed the banter you had, the routine of living together clearly having established itself long ago. He felt a jolt of gratitude for his dad dropping everything on Yavin-4 to take care of you and Charlie all this time.

He ate with one hand, relinquishing his hold on you but tugging you into his side before eating, his eyes constantly drinking in every expression on the baby’s face. He hadn’t realized how in love he would be so instantly, and certainly had not expected Charlie to adore him just as much—he’d thought the baby would be shy around him, maybe cry when he held them. But you had ensured she knew his face, his name—just another thing you did for him.

Poe was never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you had done.

“Poe?” Your soft voice broke into his thoughts and he looked around at you. You gave him a tentative sort of look, “Where is BB8?”

His shoulders relaxed automatically, “Oh he’s on the ship I came here in...with my friends,” He grinned and you copied him, your eyes curious, “I’ll go get them tomorrow and you can meet...I have so much to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your expression softened, “We have all the time in the world now.” You reached up and stroked his jaw, the motion so familiar his eyes automatically closed and emotion swelled in his chest. Before he could reply, he felt a second, much smaller hand land on his jaw and begin to copy the movement.

He smiled, looking through his lashes to see Charlie watching you intently as she imitated you, “Clever baby,” He murmured, and Charlie lit up at the sound of his voice. He turned his head and kissed her little hand affectionately.

“She gets her brains from me,” Kes piped up, tossing a wink at you before collecting everyone’s plates. He set them in the large stone sink before glancing at his watch. “You want to put her down for the night in my room?”

As you nodded, your eyes falling from Kes to Charlie, Poe felt a flush begin to creep up his neck at the idea of being alone with you again after so much time. He wanted to hold you close with nothing separating your bodies and curl into your healing warmth. Your hand reached for his, pulling him from his thoughts, and you tipped your head toward the baby in his arms, whose eyes were blinking slowly as exhaustion set in.

“Time for bed, little Bug,” You murmured, leading Poe towards your room. The curtain across the doorway sat open, fluttering slightly in the cool evening air, and the room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight outside and some of the filtering light from the lamps in the main room of the yurt.

Poe carried Charlie to her crib, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Goodnight, Charlie, I love you.” He whispered, smiling to himself when she replied with a sleepy little coo. You took her from Poe then and took a moment to show him how to put the baby down for the night.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he watched you soothe Charlie, your fingers brushing delicately over her cheeks until her fluttering lashes settled and a small snore confirmed she was asleep. Poe hadn’t felt so much love in such a long time, he was half convinced he wouldn’t survive all of it thrumming through him now. And Stars, he was fucking proud of you, of how good of a mother you were; you’d done an amazing job raising Charlie so far, and he briefly worried about how he would ever be able to compare to you; if he could be as good of a parent as you were.

Once you had Charlie tucked in, you pushed the crib silently into Kes’ room, then wandered over to an armchair and picked up a blanket. When you turned to look up at Poe, his breath caught at the expression on your face. “Come with me, flyboy.”

Gulping, Poe followed you outside and across the grassy lawn in silence. You led him straight to a secluded spot along the riverbank, the flow of the water the only sound he could hear aside from his heartbeat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous, alone with you for the first time in over a year—he’d faced down death countless times since, and yet it was this moment that was giving him pause.

He watched as you carefully spread the blanket out on the cool grass, then slipped off your shoes before stepping towards Poe with a soft smile. “Come here,” You whispered, and he closed the gap between you both eagerly. Kicking off his shoes before pulling you against him in a crushing hug, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar scent deeply.

He couldn’t have said who started to cry first, just that the moment he had you tight in his arms, you were both taking shuddering breaths. He let himself sob in a mixture of joy and sadness for everything, one hand cradling your head against his chest as you sniffled. “Sweet girl,” Poe drew back to look down at you after a few minutes, “Maker, I missed you. Every day was...shit, just complete shit without you.” He admitted, eyes closing automatically when you reached up to brush the tears from his face.

“I missed you too, but you’re here now, Poe. You’re here and you’re safe,” You whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to the end of his nose, “You’re safe, baby.”

He kissed you then; harsher than he’d intended, but you met him with equal intensity, your hands sliding into his hair to draw him closer, teeth clashing. The need then, to be with you, became overwhelming—he pushed your pants down frantically, then undid the tie of your wrap tunic and slid it off your shoulders, grunting when he realized you wore no chest band beneath.

You’d started undressing him, but when your hand passed over his length he brushed his fingers against your pebbled nipples in response and you hissed, body jerking away slightly. Poe’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled back from kissing you, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

You tugged at his shirt, smiling softly, and he removed it before glancing down your body, his eyes drinking in every glorious curve, the fullness to your breasts. “Breastfeeding is hard on these,” You replied, gesturing toward your somewhat swollen nipples, “You didn’t hurt me, just need to be careful.”

Poe nodded his understanding, surveying your postpartum body with a new wild hunger he’d never before experienced. You were beautiful, always, but something about seeing your shape with its new fullness, your milk-filled breasts and soft stomach—it made him feral. With a groan, he quickly helped you to lay down on the blanket, careful to avoid your chest as he peppered kisses down your warm body, relishing in every square inch of you. “My beautiful love,” He spread your legs apart, his hand trailing down the slit of your wet heat, “Oh sweet girl, so wet for me. You’re a fucking dream.”

As much as he wanted to taste you, lick you until you couldn’t see, the need to be inside of you was too great to allow for any more time apart. Propping himself on one arm, Poe gripped your thigh, lifting it from the ground, and gently rocked his hips forward, groaning as you tightly gripped around his cock, your body needing his just as much.

“Oh fuck, Poe...”

“I know—I’ve got you,” Poe whispered, settling between your thighs, he dropped your leg and lowered his body fully over yours, careful to keep his weight on his arm. He captured your lips against his as he slowly dragged his cock back, then rutted forward, building a slow pace meant to draw out the feeling of bliss for as long as possible. “Missed you—dreamt of you every night, baby, every fucking night.”

You had one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other pressed into his lower back and your legs wrapped around his hips. You whimpered, “N-never leaving you again,” The words came out strained, thick with emotion even as you moaned at the feel of him moving within you, “It’s you a-and me, f-forever. Forever.” Your back arched slightly, and Poe groaned at the change in angle, your walls clamping around him harder.

“Fuck,” He felt himself getting close and quickly slid his free hand between his body and yours, slamming into you as he circled your clit tenderly. “Forever, sweet girl, I promise—cum for me, let me feel you—“

“Poe—“ You whined, your eyes fluttering as your pleasure spiked, and he felt your body go rigid beneath him as his hips stuttered—he came with you, spilling himself with a groan as you trembled and moaned, then pressing himself as deep as he could while you both came tumbling back to each other.

When Poe finally collapsed next to you, he slipped out of you carefully before tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you both caught your breath. “Still...still got it, flyboy.” You joked, giggling when Poe shifted to look down at you with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same to you.”

“Ah well, it’s busy work running around after a baby, you know. Keeps you fit.” You grinned, snuggling against Poe as the cool night air seemed to seep between you. He reached above his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it over your upper body to protect you from getting too cold.

Once he was satisfied you were comfortable, he rolled so that he was looking down at you, your head resting on his forearm. “Sweet girl, you—I mean, Charlie is perfect. You kept her safe, raised her, taught her who I was...I can never thank you enough, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Oh Poe,” You smiled, your eyes glistening as you gazed up at him with a fondness that he felt almost undeserving of, a hand cupping his cheek. “You came back to us, that’s all I could have ever asked for—you’re alive and you’re here.” You choked up, then, and Poe leaned down to press his forehead to yours, cupping your cheek softly with one hand.

You lay together for a short while; until the cold became too much. Curling up together in bed sounded almost too good to be true. “Come on, sweet girl, let’s get some sleep,” He gathered you in his arms, pausing as you grabbed at the clothing he wasn’t going to bother putting on, and carried you into the yurt, the blanket abandoned in the grass outside.

When Poe had his body pressed against yours under the comforter of the bed you’d slept in alone all this time, he kept his arms securely around you and felt peace wash over him, “Going to introduce you to some pretty special friends in the morning, and then we can plan our next steps, my love.”

With a happy little sigh, you tucked your head into his neck and fell asleep promptly, your light snores lulling him until, just at the precipice of sleep, he smiled to himself—he was home.

The first thing you noticed when you woke early the next morning was the bed next to you was empty. Your hands roamed for Poe and when you didn’t find him you sat up quickly, wondering if perhaps you had dreamt of the day prior, of him coming home...

Only, a little giggle from outside your room sounded and you heard Poe proudly declare, “Clever, just like your mama, Charlie girl.”

You hadn’t ever known happiness like this, truly. Your heart was full and repaired and you couldn’t believe how after so much time, so many years of mistakes and pain, you were married to your best friend and he was currently waiting for you to wake up while caring for your baby, the little girl who shared traits of the both of you. This felt like a dream, but it was so raw it couldn’t be anything other than real.

You sprang from bed, throwing on your robe and hurrying out to see Poe holding Charlie as he sat in the armchair, bouncing her on his knee as she giggled for him. When you paused to watch, a smile stretching over your face, he glanced up at you and his own broadened, eyes shining brightly with affection.

“Morning, mama,” His thick morning voice always sent heat through you, and the fact that he was sitting shirtless, his hard muscles flexing as he moved Charlie only doused further fuel on the fire within. He seemed to read that in your expression, his soft eyes darkening somewhat before he sent you a wink that said there’d be time for that again later.

Charlie had looked around to follow Poe’s gaze and she cooed loudly when she saw you, her hands raised towards you. You frowned, “Oh, now you want mama time? Could it be that you’re hungry?” Charlie made grabby hands as Poe laughed and you pulled her from his arms before settling into the chair next to him, easing your robe open enough for her to have access to your chest.

Settling her in for her meals was second nature to you; you knew the way she preferred to lay, how to hold her just right, that she liked to feed quietly in the mornings but at night you were allowed to rub her back and speak soothing words to her. As she began to suckle, you carefully adjusted your breast to make the angle more comfortable, then glanced up remembering that Poe was watching.

The expression on his face was stunning—he was watching you rapturously, as though the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. You saw emotion mixed in with the awe and the adoration, and you knew he was feeling grateful he hadn’t missed something as pure as this entirely, that Charlie hadn’t grown too much.

You leaned your head back to rest and smiled at Poe warmly, “She’s on partial foods now, you can feed her yourself a little later, if you want.” You whispered, and his face brightened even more. You felt a bit like those first days after you’d joined him and your brother on D’Qar, the giddy joy of reuniting making the smiles stretch for days.

“I’d love that,” He shuffled his chair closer, resting one hand behind where you were holding Charlie, the other raising to brush over your cheek. “Does it...hurt?”

You shook your head and his look of concern relaxed, “Not really, she’s good about not biting,” Poe cringed at the thought and you giggled, “She’s a good baby. Now, you said you wanted us to meet your friends?”

He nodded, his expression softening sadly, “They’re the reason I was able to make it home to you...I have so much to tell you, but I want you to meet them first.” Poe’s eyes dropped down to watch Charlie again and you let him have a moment, recognizing he had suffered a great deal over the year and a half apart.

You let your eyes wander over his bare torso and noticed now, in the morning light, that he had some new scars, some angrier than the others. The idea of him having been hurt made your stomach sink, and you couldn’t help but lean toward him, capturing his lips against yours when he glanced up. He moaned softly at the tender kiss, petting your hair, and you let yourself sink into the moment, pulling back only when Charlie stirred.

“Where did you leave them?”

Poe gestured toward the main village, “Just outside the village, on our ship. I could go and get them—“

You shook your head, “I think a walk will do us all good. Let’s get dressed, eh Charlie?” You made a face at the baby, who was sleepily peering up at you, happy with her tummy now full, and she smiled at your expression.

Poe insisted on changing Charlie’s diaper and dressing her, so you merely stood by and watched, handing him her daytime outfit and trying not to laugh too hard as he struggled. You could see the joy in his eyes as he attempted to get her arms through the sleeves, his big hands so incredibly gentle as he worked. It took about twice as long as normal, but eventually, Charlie was ready to go and you took her from Poe, strapping her to your chest with a sarong, watching him as he dressed.

You wanted to ask about the new scars. But you were afraid when you did, it would open up the vault he was currently guarding and all of the terrible stories would come tumbling out. Enjoying this peaceful reunion for a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone, so you resisted the urge and instead popped your head into Kes’s room to let him know where you were going.

“It was hard, not knowing anything,” You admitted quietly as you walked along with Poe, Charlie gazing around happily. The arm draped over your shoulders tightened somewhat at your words. “Leia sure picked a good place for us, though. It’s been quiet, safe.”

You glanced at him, the tension in his jaw confirming something you’d suspected since he’d arrived-after he’d mentioned it was thanks to one of his new friends that he’d been able to find you. Leia was gone, but he didn’t know how to tell you—just as much as you were avoiding asking him for details, he was reluctant to give them.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing,” He replied softly before his eyes lit up. You followed his gaze and saw a large ship, its ramp lowered, come into view just as a familiar orange and white blur was speeding in your direction.

“Buddy!” You yelled, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee to greet BB8, one arm securing Charlie closer to ensure she didn’t get too jostled from your movements. The droid beeped and whirred excitedly and the baby began to giggle, craning her head to look at BB8. “Charlie, this is BB8, wave hi—“ You laughed as Charlie roughly flopped her chubby arm in the direction of the droid.

You could feel Poe’s hand resting lightly on the crown of your hand, and you looked up at him to speak but before you could, another voice chimed in. “Poe, man, you found them!” A handsome man with enviably smooth skin and a friendly grin was walking towards you with a pretty woman who had sad eyes next to him.

Poe helped you to stand back up, his arm securing around you as he led you forward to meet his friends. “Finn—Rey, meet my better half, (y/n), and my kid, Charlie.”

You saw the pair shoot wide-eyed looks at Poe when he said Charlie’s name, and you realized he must have told them about you, about your brother. The thought warmed your heart even further. You reached out and grasped each of their hands in turn, grinning, “It is really lovely to meet you, thank you for getting Poe back to me and Charlie safely.”

Finn smiled warmly, “Hey, he saved our asses as much as we saved his,” Poe shoved his arm playfully, laughing. Rey was quiet, you noticed, gazing at the baby thoughtfully. You wondered who she had lost.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and Rey met your eyes in surprise, though after a brief pause she smiled nervously and nodded. Her smile lit up her whole face, and you were glad you thought to offer the baby as a way to pull it from her—babies had a way of making the sad a little less daunting.

You lifted Charlie out of the sarong, “Say hi to Auntie Rey, Charlie!” Charlie began to babble incoherently in that cheerful baby talk as she settled against Rey’s hip. She watched her, smiling to herself, before glancing between you and Poe.

“She’s beautiful,” Rey’s hand caught one of Charlie’s, squeezing gently, “Takes after her mama, clearly.” She tacked on, throwing Poe a look that made you laugh out loud.

Finn, you noticed, was watching Rey hold the baby with a quiet expression of adoration that made you smile inwardly. He caught you staring and grinned cheekily. As he began to chide Poe teasingly, a sudden memory came to mind, of the last time you had spoken to your father.

“Just remember, family always comes first—but we can make our own family, sweetie,” Dad squeezed your hand, “Family is what we make it, big or small, blood-related or not. So you make sure to surround yourself with good people, people you love and trust, and you’ll always have a family.”

And as you stood there, gazing at your new friends, the people who had ensured your Poe had come back to you, you realized that you were only adding to your family today. You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire galaxy, your heart was bursting with joy and hope for everything still to come.

Poe pressed a kiss to your temple, and you shot him a smile, knowing he felt it too.

Here, you thought, was where the next chapter of your life began. And you couldn’t be more excited.

A/N—THANK YOU for reading this story, for enjoying this journey with me and loving my characters so much. I’m hopeful you loved this final chapter and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. And of course, we still have the epilogue coming!🤍

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @asaucecoveredsomething @ladydmalfoy

#Night changes series #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fluff #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #rey star wars #finn x poe #poe and bb8 #oscar Isaac

[rhysismydaddy]

Hey love, I adore ur nessian fics and was wondering if you could bless us with some Cassian being super hurt/sick and nesta taking care of him(fluff + hurt/comfort yknow)?Ooh and nesta giving him a pep talk when he says he feels worthless-bat boi needs some comfort -(nesta bathing cassian scene for bonus points). Thank you so much! hope ur staying safe and healthy!

thank you <3 hope you’re doing well, too

___________________________________________

Nesta leaned a hip against the doorframe of her bedroom, frowning when she found it empty. “Cass?”

No answer. 

She still searched the place anyway, since he was bad to play music in his headphones too loud and never hear her. She went to the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and even out the back door of her tiny place, but to no avail. 

He wasn’t here. 

Which was odd, considering he wasn’t allowed to drive, and he’d been here when she left for work. 

She grabbed her phone and called him, but no answer. 

Annoyance bloomed as she threw her shoes back on and snatched her keys, then drove the five minutes to his place. By the time she got there, the annoyance had blossomed into full-on irritation, so she didn’t bother knocking, just used the key he’d given her a year ago and marched in. 

When she found him in his bedroom, she paused, and all that pent-up anger whooshed right out of her. 

Beneath the mass of purple bruises decorating him, he was white as a sheet as he struggled to get his sock off. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, grimacing in pain, but didn’t stop until his hand grabbed his foot.

Nesta rushed over, kneeling in front of him. “Cass, you’re going to pop a stitch. What are you doing? Why’d you leave my place?”

He didn’t say anything, just pushed her hands away when she tried to help. 

“Cassian-”

“I’m fine, Nesta,” he snapped, grunting as he ripped the sock off and started on his pants.

“Clearly,” she shot back, standing and crossing her arms. 

She’d been taking care of him for almost two weeks, and this was the thanks she got?

He got the sweats off easier, and her heart pinched as the cast over his broken knee was exposed. With brutal efficiency, he wrapped it in the extra-long trash bags they’d bought at the store, then reached for the duct tape.

Noticing it was a little too far away, she grabbed it and handed it to him.

Golden eyes surrounded by black shot to hers, and she took a step back at how angry they were. “Jesus Christ, Nesta, I’m not an invalid. Stop mothering me.” 

Taking a shaky breath, she nodded and stepped out of his way as he used his uninjured leg to stand up. She knew it was self-hatred and the anger of being injured, not that he was actually pissed at her, but it still hurt.

She’d known his recovery would be difficult, that it would test their relationship, but it was still a shock to her system to be on the receiving end of his rage.

It was horrible to watch as he used the wall to hobble to the connected bathroom, but she maintained her distance and kept quiet. 

But no matter how mad he’d be because of it, she couldn’t stop herself from rushing to him when he started to fall. 

Nesta reached him just in time, catching him around the waist and bracing him as he started to tip forwards. But he was over two-hundred pounds of solid muscle, and though she slowed him down, she couldn’t stop him entirely. 

Her back slammed into the wall next to the tub, the air getting knocked from her lungs in a harsh breath. 

“Goddammit,” he growled, pushing off the wall with one hand and all but throwing himself into the bathtub, somehow managing to keep his wrapped up leg from getting wet. Water sloshed over the sides, but he didn’t seem to care.

Bracing an elbow on the edge, he put his head in his hand and avoided looking at her for a long time. 

She could feel the rage inside him building, feel him turn it on himself. 

“I’m sorry, Nes,” he murmured a few minutes later, still not looking at her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, coming over to sit on the space behind his head. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head back until his eyes met hers. “I know you hate being injured, but you have to stop being so hard on yourself Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t like you seeing me like this.”

She scoffed. “How many times have you taken care of me?”

Cassian shook her head. “That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t. And it isn’t why you’re so upset.”

She knew there was something else causing him to lash out. He’d been injured before, but he’d never acted like it was anything besides a mild annoyance.

His gaze shuttered, but there was such pain, such emptiness in his eyes. She couldn’t take it. 

“Cassian, please talk to me,” she pleaded. “Don’t... don’t shut me out.”

It had taken her forever to open up to him, and she couldn’t stand the feeling that they were moving backwards. 

His head dipped forward, and she released his hair with a sigh, letting him go. 

She was about to leave, give him some alone time, when he said, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Her heart started to pound, and his gaze shot to hers like he could hear it. “Work, baby. Not you.”

Nesta nodded but stayed quiet, giving him time to figure out what he wanted to say. 

“I don’t know if I can go on another tour, watch men die all around me, get shot and almost die for a cause I don’t believe in.” He looked down. “But I can do it, and I feel like I’d be letting my men down to stop.”

He was in the Marines, and his platoon had hit an IED and been ambushed in enemy territory with no backup. Cassian had fought his ass off to get every member of his unit out alive. 

His knee had been broken in the explosion, but he’d gone back for his injured partners, not even stopping when he got shot in the shoulder. 

He’d saved six people.

He’d always been driven by duty, by honor, but hated that it was now causing such turmoil inside him.

“Oh, Cass,” she murmured, stroking his curly hair away from his face softly. 

“But even if I do quit, I... I don’t know who I am without this, Nes. I’ve been a Marine my whole life; it’s all I am.”

She scowled down at him at that. “Cassian Azara, if you think that’s all you are, you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

His mouth opened to answer, but she shouldered on. “You are the most selfless, generous, kind, hilarious, handsome, and intelligent man I’ve ever met. All of those things make you a great Marine, but you’re more than some random military title. And if you don’t want to be a Marine anymore, then quit.”

“But-”

“But nothing. You’ve saved those guys’ asses more times than I can count, and while no one will ever be as good of a leader, someone will step up. You’ve done six tours; no one would blame you for choosing yourself. Do what you want, not what you think you need to.”

“It’s all I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking away from her, but not before she caught the shame in his eyes. 

“No, it’s all you’ve done.”

“What do you mean?”

She put a palm on his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “You enlisted when you were eighteen. You’ve never done anything besides be in the military. But that doesn’t mean it’s all you could do. You could do a million things”

Some of that darkness left his eyes as he looked up at her. “Like what?”

Nesta shook her head incredulously. “Just with your training alone, you could be a personal trainer, teach self-defense classes, or fight professionally. You graduated at the top of your class; you could go to college and study anything you want. You could be a mechanic like you were in high school. You could fly a rocket to the fucking moon.”

Cassian’s lips twitched. “I don’t know about that one.”

“I do. NASA would be lucky to have you.” He didn’t look quite convinced about the point she was making, so she said, “Baby, with your personality and that face, you could sell car insurance to the Amish.”

He laughed in surprise, and the sound soothed the ache in her chest. 

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “And with how fucking stubborn you are, you’ll be the best at whatever you choose. You can do anything you want. Now say it.”

He looked down at his broken knee and muttered, “I can do anything I want.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Now say it like you mean it.”

His eyes rolled back up to hers in amusement, even as he said confidently, “I can do anything I want.”

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Yes, you can. And whenever you need reminding of it, just tell me.”

“I love you,” he said against her lips, making her smile. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Yes, I am,” she agreed, still grinning. “Now shut up and hand me the shampoo. You smell worse than you look.”

He threw his head back and howled with laughter, then splashed her and handed her the shampoo. She worked some of it into his hair, the froth slick beneath her hands, and moved his head to lie against the edge of the tub. 

Nesta kissed his brow, knowing that whatever they went through, they’d do it together. “I love you, too, Cassian.”

[electricbluebutterflies]

Nina/Mattias + fight sex but they’re idly bickering about something that doesn’t matter very much

Canon-divergent / the little adventure up in frozen hell took long enough for this dynamic to develop (because what even is a timeline and I have no clue how long it actually was on the show). Also, for plot purposes and context, this does make use of my belief that everyone is just SLIGHTLY aged up on the show and in my head most of the main lineup is 20ish. Oh, and first time writing these babes so fingers crossed I got characterization okay. Obviously NSFWish ahead, a little more graphic than I’ve written in a while and also involves a First Time...

He’s keeping the third blanket from her.

It is, objectively, the most petty Nina has felt since the whole almost-dying thing happened, maybe even since the getting-captured bit. Trying to get under his skin, trying to handle the daily shifting of their dynamic, has been almost as exhausting as trying to stay alive. Which in itself is enough of a challenge, because somehow they are lost and whenever Nina gets back to civilization she is going to have so many comments about Druskelle navigational instincts or the apparent total lack thereof. So. Many. Comments. The moment she has a possibly appreciative audience, because she is not wasting her breath on that here right now and-

At least tonight they’re in some kind of fishing shack again, clear space to build a fire and a pile of blankets of various questionable quality. There have been nights they haven’t been so lucky. She’s saving her energy for where it matters. But on the other hand, she is a delicate fragile creature who has made a point of avoiding this sort of climate, and…

Mathias still has the third blanket, and the fire is going well enough that they objectively can stay on opposite sides of this space, and Nina decides it’s time to change the game.

He’s pretty, okay? He’s annoying and stubborn and honestly at this point him technically being The Enemy is relatively low on the list of reasons he’s stomping on her every last nerve, but the man has two things in his favor – he’s loyal, and he is very nice to look at. Nina does not historically have the attention span when it comes to that level of pretty, but this one has decided to make it difficult for her. Like, he can say up and down that he does not want her, but they’ve shared a sleep-space – “bed” is too nice a word for most of those situations – for a week or so and she doesn’t need words, she knows what she wakes up to.

And she knows how damn respectful he is, she thinks as she starts undoing her vest buttons. This outfit, while very cute two weeks ago before her entire life took a very undesired detour, was not made for seduction. But if she does it slow enough, she hopes she won’t set him off. The other time she had to deal with that element of things, he was polite and turned his back even though she didn’t ask him to, and she assumes the same will happen here and she’ll get nowhere and-

Okay, fine, it’s not like taking off her vest reveals anything outright explicit. The current light makes her shirt a little more see-through than it’s meant to be, but still. She is about as decent as she ever gets.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tone about as calm as she’s ever heard him.

“You do not need two blankets,” Nina counters. “I want.”

And oh does that phrase cover more than his little Fjerdan mind has probably ever thought of. All those comments he’s made about assuming she’s trying to seduce him? Yeah, hasn’t been the main goal yet but she’s thought about it. Seeing what she could do to him – she does not expect he’d take any initiative there, highly doubts he’s ever even kissed anyone – would not be the worst way to spend an evening. So, that’s part of the plan now. Make him squirm, get on top of him, and take her prize. Should be easy.

As if to prove her point, she starts loosening the laces of her shirt just enough to easily take it off. She hadn’t bothered to wear anything under it, another brilliant idea proving that two-weeks-ago Nina had questionable judgment in all things, and it is all too easy to push it up over her shoulders and off her arms and…

He’s still watching. He looks wide-eyed and possibly concussed, but he’s still watching.

If Nina were a different sort of person, and probably also if she had gotten laid within the past six months (for the record it has been eight and that cute little bartender with the long nails was a way better lover than she was an informant), she would cross her arms over her breasts and stop here and wait for whatever protective instincts Mathias has to kick in. Even given what she’s just done, she looks vulnerable and cute enough to wake him up like that, and-

“What are you doing?” he asks again, this time more hostile. Good. When he’s frustrated his voice gets all growly, and that does things to her, and-

“Can we get this over with?”

“This?”

“The part where we have questionable hatesex that I will forget ever happened within the next year and you will remember for the rest of your life because whatever little creature gets stuck with you someday will not fuck you like I want to.”

For a moment, she’s pretty sure she broke him. This is definitely not about the blanket anymore, and-

“I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

Nina laughs. “Yeah well you are deeper in denial than anybody I’ve ever met. I am everything that scares you and you are stuck with me and I’m not sure which part of your code I do not violate but I am sure you would’ve-”

“You saved my life. I owe you everything.”

“Cute. Obligation. Great reason to put up with someone but still do everything you can to drag your feet about it.”

“Why do you… want me?” He sounds all hesitant, and good grief has nobody ever told this man what he looks like? Or do all of his people look that good at that age… that’s plausible enough…

“Limited options right now. It’s you or my hand and you’re warmer.”

She is not sure what she’s expecting beyond not what he actually does.

Fine, so she’s been good and hasn’t looked more than she had to when he’s been in a state of undress. Watching him strip right now, layers of leathers and furs that are apparently frightfully easy to take off, is different. He is wanting her to watch, keeping his eyes on her the whole time until he is completely naked in front of her and… she can’t help licking her lips, he is pretty and she wants all of that all over her. Now.

“This or your hand,” he repeats in a way that suggests that at least she probably won’t have to explain the general patterns of female masturbation to him. “Make your choice.”

She about tackles him.

He’s built like a damn tree, Nina reminds herself in the process. Solid enough to handle her attempt at literally jumping him, which doesn’t exactly work but does throw off his balance for a moment, and she gets him pulled down for a bitey kiss. He has just a little bit of scruff now and she’d wanna see what that feels like between her legs but also she is pretty sure Fjerdan men do not do that and she doesn’t want to completely wreck him in one go, and while she still suspects all of this is new to him, he has good instincts.

Her skirt and underwear are feeling like too much of an undesired obstacle, so she undoes them with her free hand while trying to stick her tongue down his throat. So she’s a little aggressive, whatever, he’s clearly into it and nobody gets hurt by it.

“What do you need me to do,” he breathes, and oh he can admit being clueless, this is a treasure, this is-

She grabs his wrist and puts his hand between her thighs. “Poke around until you like the noises I’m making.”

Mathias has good hands. She’s known this for several days now, but it is a different thing to know it with one of said hands exploring her soft parts. She feels a fingertip inside her then quickly pulled back, another batting her clit back and forth with uncertainty. Then the finger inside her is back, and she knows how wet she is, and-

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“That’s why I’m leading. I’m not giving you the chance.”

But he couldn’t hurt her like this, she thinks. Not with his hands prepping her and a second finger up inside her and accidentally finding her sensitive spot, not with his prick hard against her belly, not with his mouth taking kisses as he learns what he likes. There is something inherently good in him and she worries for a moment that what they are about to do will break it, and yet-

“Get on your back,” she orders. Easier for both of them if she leads, she reminds herself.

He does without any complaint, and she takes a moment to enjoy the view. The solidness of him, for the next few minutes all hers. Would any of the girls he might get stuck with back home be able to handle this? And the way he’s looking up at her, a scared but willing participant in whatever she decides to do. Maybe he’s right. Maybe hatesex is the wrong word.

She straddles him, knees around his hips, and drops.

Blame the dry spell. Blame the absolute weirdness of the situation. Blame the fact that she is tired and hungry and cold. None of that matters. He feels good inside her and she makes a noise she cannot describe and-

“Am I…?”

“No. Feels good.”

She rolls her hips against his to prove a point, works him even deeper into her and leans down for more kisses. She can taste the shock and the innocence of him. This isn’t how he thought his first time would go, she is sure of it now, and yet he is allowing her and-

His hips jerk up and she makes a shocked little noise. “Do that again.”

He does, and she continues her pattern, and… it’s good, on her side. Not the best sex she’s ever had, but his hesitance is useful enough. She doesn’t trust him to say if he’s getting close, so she stays focused on his face, looking for signs, looking for-

She shifts her angle just a little bit, his prick hits the right spot inside her harder than she expects, and she shatters.

As she comes down, she sees that his expression has turned to something worse, scared and worried and unable to speak. He’s still hard inside her, at least, but he is motionless and cold and she doesn’t-

“Did I hurt you?”

Nina laughs. She shouldn’t, this is a legitimately valid question, but-

“No. What you just did felt amazing. Your turn.”

She resumes rolling her hips against his to indicate the conversation is over and she does not want to explain herself, and a few clenches of her inner walls later he spills inside her. It’s a beautiful thing to experience, the sudden warmth overlapping with the strangled gasp of surprise and-

“You know this means I have to marry you,” he says when he’s capable of coherent thought. “If there’s any chance…”

She shifts position so their bodies are no longer connected. “No. It doesn’t.”

“But I…”

“We’re too different,” she murmurs. “You know that. There’s nowhere safe. If anything… if the worst happens, I’ll lie.”

“Honor is honor. If there is even a chance-“

And oh, for a moment she wants it too. For a moment, she lets herself think about the impossibility of being all that she could be, both Grisha and wife, not forced to choose between her complexities. Unrealistic, she knows, a flighty daydream at best but she wants all the same.

“Nothing to worry about. My last cycle finished three days before your people tried to kill me, so… right now I can’t get pregnant.”

“Still. If it happened… I would stand by you.”

She kisses his face, covers the angles of him in wet kisses. “Good to know.”

#pixievixen #helnik #nina x mathias #ebf writes fic

[nelllraiser]

those magic changes | eddie & nell

TIMING: before nell was yoinked into the hellscape. LOCATION: gallows grove. PARTIES:  @specterchasing & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: eddie and nell have some much needed post-highschool catching up while a spawn tries to catch them up. CONTAINS: sucidal ideation (eddie’s general disregard for his life).

The Bend, also known as the bad part of town, also known as Eddie’s favorite part of town, looked particularly derelict the day he and Nell decided to meet up. The sun hung low overhead, threatening to swap places with the moon at any moment. Meanwhile, within the depths of the sewers, an especially hungry vampire awaited the transition with rapidly diminishing patience. His sire botched his shot at immortality, making him a mindless spawn but, what he lacked in brains, he made up for in brutality.

Eddie parked outside a stretch of abandoned homes only a few blocks away from the spawn’s location. He took a sweeping glance at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. His hand slipped into his back pocket and retrieved his phone before texting Nell in search of an update.

[Text to Nellspawn]: It’s 7:46 and we agreed on meeting at 7:45.

[Text to Nellspawn]: If you hate me, say it to my face, coward. ):

Nell crept up to Eddie’s car like a cat, making not a single sound as she ducked below the side of it- for once grateful that she was shorter than was ideal. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she smirked as she read the illuminated words on the screen. In the blink of an eye she was jumping from her hiding spot into Eddie’s window, slamming the screen of her phone against the driver’s side window of Eddie’s car as she yelled out. “I got your text!” Hopefully he’d at least jump a little. Or maybe she’d be so lucky as to get a small little scream that she could mock him for. 

Out of nowhere, Nell popped into Eddie’s peripheral vision and his heart leapt into his throat. He jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with wide eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. As he gradually calmed down, his expression of terror turned into one of utter disdain. Eddie rolled down the window, glaring up at Nell. “Hey, could you do me a favor and stand in front of my car for a second?” he asked. “I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Nell practically cackled as she watched the fear very possibly shave a few years off Eddie’s life, sticking her tongue out at him through the window. “Surprise! I could tell you’re really happy to see me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look like that since the time I saw a toddler witnessing their first boggart going in on the peanut butter aisle of the grocery store.” Just in case he didn’t pick up on what she was insinuating, she made sure to rub it in. “Get it? I’m comparing you to a toddler. A small child.” Rolling her eyes she took a step back from the car door, giving him room should he choose to open it. “As if your car would stand a chance against me. I’m made of steel.” For a moment she flexed her arms in the classic pose, though you couldn’t begin to see anything past the looser sleeves of her jacket. There was simply something about seeing Eddie that made her feel as if she were as careless as the day she’d left White Crest. As if all the terrible things since then hadn’t come to pass. He was clean- a slate that wasn’t marred by being present for any of the atrocities of the past year or so.

Eddie willed himself to continue glaring at her, but the truth was that it felt good to hear her laugh again. Like most, Eddie viewed high school as hell on earth, but drama class with Nell gave him a sliver of hope to hold onto each day. “You’re three feet tall, you don’t get to call me a toddler.” Eddie rolled the window up and stepped out of the car. “It might take a few tries, but you know what they say about wills and ways,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her—graduation, maybe. Those years were more blurs than memories at this point. “Fuck it,” he said before taking a step closer and pulling her into a hug.

“I am not!” Nell stomped petulantly against the ground, not entirely helping her case. “I’m just saying if the toddler stroller fits you- who am I to argue?” Nevertheless her own grin was still bright on her lips, feeling lighter by the second the faster she and Eddie fell into old ways. It’d been..shit- it’d been almost six years, but it felt all too easy to pick up where they’d left off. “Yeah- they say Penelope Vural has the strongest will and the best ways, and no car’s ever gonna stop her.” Her laugh was lighter, less sharp as he stepped forward for a hug, and she embraced him back without hesitation. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft on me, Carridine,” she teased before her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the nearby cemetery. “So you’re still stupidly bent on getting yourself snacked on in there?” One of the things that she and Eddie unfortunately had in common was that they were nearly impossible to sway once they’d made up their minds to do something idiotic. And she wasn’t keen to watch while White Crest swallowed up the friend she’d only just reunited with.

She hadn’t changed, not from what he’d seen so far. It felt like stepping out of a time machine and reliving a period in his life when the most pressing issues he faced revolved around timed tests and peer pressure. “It’s your fault for leaving me, Vural,” Eddie replied, giving her a tight squeeze before stepping back and shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “It’s not stupid if you film it, then it’s art,” he said as he backed up a few steps closer to the rear door of his car. He turned on his heels and pulled the hand before ducking in to grab his filming equipment. “Besides, we might not even run into anything worthwhile,” he said with a shrug as he pulled the bag’s strap onto his shoulder.

The physical scars Nell had gained since seeing Eddie were tucked away under layers of clothing, always prone to the cold. Thankfully it seemed the scars on her soul had seen fit to fade into the background for the moment being as well, leaving her to freely bask in the warmth of Eddie’s company. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going to cry in a Subway again,” she joked dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure that makes it more stupid, actually.” If this had been six years ago she most likely would have been all for diving headlong into a cemetery, and she’d still do that if it was only her going in. But there was another life at stake here as well, and it wasn’t one she was willing to risk. “Yeah- we’ll see.” She was too jaded at this point to feel optimistic about not running into something lurking in the cemetery, already knowing vampires loved to lurk in their shadows. She’d brought a stake just in case, more than ready for if things went south.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Eddie advised in response to her comment about shedding tears in sandwich shops. His hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw at her next comment. Whether or not his plans were stupid, it wouldn’t stop him. His already poor decision-making continued to deteriorate with each passing day. He told Bex he would be careful but, as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, he didn’t know the first thing about showing caution. And, frankly, he showed no interest in learning. Eddie’s outlook on life made being alive out to be more of a chore than a priceless gift. 

“You wanna do an intro for the channel?” he asked, digging out his camera. “Or did you somehow become the type of person who values anonymity?” Eddie’s brow raised at Nell as he walked passed her en route to the cemetery. 

“No- I don’t think I’ll be trying it, thanks. I would, but it makes it a little hard since I have something called dignity. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the concept. I will keep knocking it, though,” Nell teased, that same playful glint still making a home in her eyes. “Wow!” The word was stretched out as long as she could make it last, offense plain to see in the way her eyebrows had raised towards her hairline. “I can’t believe you just admitted you don’t watch any of the TikToks I make for the newspaper. You think I’d be doing that if I valued anonymity?” She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to land the job, reveling in the pay and benefits for the minimal amount of work she did.

“You’d be lucky to have me in your intro!” In another moment she was parroting the old intro she’d seen on his channel the times she’d tuned in, letting the words fall none too sweetly as she poked fun at him. She was pretty sure the camera wasn’t even out yet- but that didn’t have her hesitating.

“Dignity,” Eddie mused, sounding as if he were trying to dredge up the definition from deep within his memory banks. “You’re right, I’m drawing a blank. Is dignity the reason you got drunk at Hayden Dane’s house party and asked everyone for soap to appease the bathroom demon? Yeah, I don’t think I have that.” He shrugged all the way up to his ears. It didn’t occur to him that a demon actually did take up roost in Hayden’s bathroom, explaining why his house burned down two days later. Eddie knew a lot about ghosts and decidedly less about infernal imps.  

“There’s a pretty big difference between newspaper TikToks and showing your face on a YouTube channel exposing White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” he replied with a glance. “Most people don’t want to be associated with it. I actually watch your content all the time. It’s… kind of how I learned you were back in town and had been for a while.” A year of radio silence. No point acting like it didn’t sting a little.

At the sound of Nell repeating his old intro back at him, Eddie clutched his chest in despair. “No,” he whined, turning to face her again. “Let it stay dead, Nell. I’m not that person anymore.” The camera in his hand raised in her direction. “Here’s your chance at YouTube fame. If you embarrass me, I’ll get your house haunted.”

Nell rolled her eyes fondly at the memory of the little Bannik that she’d found in Hayden’s bathroom, having been utterly thrilled to stumble across a demon in her drunken state. It had been in the midst of her beginning to acquaint herself with the demon species and portals— so of course she’d been all too eager to find some soap for the little creature. “You’re lucky I was there to appease the bathroom demon. You all would have been long gone if it wasn’t for my quick thinking.” Were Banniks actually all that dangerous? Absolutely not. But Eddie didn’t need to know that. 

“Mhm- White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” she repeated dryly, still not all that pleased that Eddie had made it his life’s mission to single handedly crack open supernatural secrecy. “You know that’s a great way to get people killed, right? What you’re doing with your videos and stuff?” 

Stepping through the threshold of the cemetery, Nell’s mouth was already propped open to give her next quip of a reply when a chill ran down her spine. Whether it was the product of being attacked from the shadows one too many times, or an actual premonition- she was suddenly quiet. She began to scan the tombstones with a sharp eye, as if something might be lurking behind them. Then...a low snarling sound, and Nell realized she’d been right to have come as Eddie’s personal bodyguard. “Shut up,” she hissed, already trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, a hand slipping one of her hidden stakes from its hiding place.

Eddie eyed Nell skeptically. “Uh-huh,” he uttered. The likelihood of Nell being right about the soap-loving fiend was actually pretty high, but Eddie didn’t care to admit that. He much preferred giving her a hard time, and the feeling seemed mutual enough to dissuade any guilt.

“You know what else is a great way to get people killed? Keeping them ignorant,” Eddie retaliated without missing a beat. “So long as I try to avoid outing individuals, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.” This was an argument he knew well, the beginning of it anyway. People didn’t usually bother trying to correct him once they knew how firmly he stood his ground. They saw him as a lost cause, he saw them as uninformed.

Nell seemed on-edge, which Eddie didn’t understand. As much time as he spent in graveyards, he never developed a sixth sense for danger. Mostly, out of lack of interest. “Yeah, that’s a great intro,” he deadpanned. The sight of a stake made him lower his camera. “What are you doing? Now’s not the time to showcase your Buffy cosplay.” He didn’t hear the growl over his own voice.

Nell had never backed down from a fight, argument, or otherwise in her entire life, her stubbornness and determination matching Eddie’s in a way that hadn’t been fully explored quite yet. After all, they’d agreed on most things in highschool, but as was often the case with the supernatural— things got far more complicated when it entered the picture, and relationships were no exception. So she was more than ready to fire back a retort before another growl pierced the night air, and she shushed Eddie once again. “I said shu-” But her words didn’t meet and end as the spawn finally leapt from the shadows taking advantage of her momentary distraction to begin its attack.

Rolling in a smooth and practiced maneuver, Nell clutched the stake like a lifeline in her hand staying low to the ground as she readied her magic should she need it. “Don’t move,” she gave Eddie another command as she tried to draw a large circle around the spawn with her footsteps. But the thing had taken one look at the stake in her hand and decided to go for the easier target. In the blink of an eye, the spawn had shifted course, turning towards Eddie with bloodlust in its eyes. 

Eddie let out a startled laugh at the sight of the vampire, his usual reaction to imminent danger. He instinctively raised the camera as Nell momentarily outsmarted the beast. Asking her where she learned a maneuver like that would have to wait.

“Gonna have to deliberately disobey that order,” Eddie said once the spawn locked onto him. A familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his system and Eddie jouked to the right, an outstretched hand commanding a small cross to fly from a nearby grave into his grip. He was lacking in the faith department, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,” he chanted as he waved it in the spawn’s direction.

The raising of his camera wasn’t lost on Nell, and she shook her head in disbelief as the spawn tore after Eddie. Really? Even now Eddie was trying to get a shot? “You can’t upload a video if you die, dumbass!” Nell yelled, already hot on the spawn’s trail while it flew after Eddie like a bat out of hell. Which...wasn’t actually all that terrible a description of the lesser vampire when Nell thought about it. At least her friend had enough sense to arm himself with some religious memorabilia, though the spawn had yet to spot it while being far too intent on having its next meal.

The creature was faster than Nell could have ever been without a hunter gene or otherwise, but thankfully she had her own tricks up her sleeve. Casting one of her oft-used spells when it came to fighting, her speed was instantly buffed, and she became a blur even quicker than the spawn. The burst was enough to get her on top of the spawn and send herself barreling into the side of it, trying to find purchase with her stake. She was by no means all that large of a projectile standing at only 5’2 and having a slight build, but the momentum she’d gathered was enough to shoot the spawn off its path. The spawn was quick to recover, snapping at the hand that held her wooden point and clamping its jaws down on her wrist. With a curse falling from her lips, the weapon was forced out of her hand. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie exclaimed when a Nell-sized blur collided with the vampire. Questions piled up, giving him a reason to outlast the encounter. The spawn recalibrated with deadly quickness, and blood subsequently flowed from Nell’s wrist. As much as Eddie liked to pretend situations like this fit his laissez faire narrative, he couldn’t stand idly by while someone he cared about bled for his mistakes.

His camera hit the ground while his feet carried him to Nell’s side. With little regard for his own wellbeing, Eddie pressed the cross to the side of the spawn’s head. It sizzled against the wrinkled skin, sending the creature reeling backwards with a shriek.

“You dropped this,” Eddie said breathlessly as he floated the stake to Nell’s uninjured hand, hoping she would take hold of it. He stayed next to her, holding out the cross to hopefully keep the beast at bay long enough for Nell to plan out her next move. But it looked hungry and Eddie couldn’t imagine it had much patience.

Nell grimaced while she did her best to ignore the injured wrist, giving Eddie a grateful nod as she caught the stake he’d floated in her direction. She couldn’t deny that she was enthralled by the encounter with the spawn, and she would have been enjoying herself even more if Eddie hadn’t been involved in the crossfire. Not for the first time, she felt like she was back in the Ring, fighting for her life and the winnings of those who’d bet on her. She couldn’t deny that she missed the rush of battling for her life, and the roar of the crowd. 

The cross move had been smart on Eddie’s part, and Nell supposed she should at least count herself lucky that he knew enough to know what had the ability to ward off vampires. “Just go-” she began to say, unwilling to risk Eddie’s life any further. She didn’t wait to see if he’d obeyed, once again rushing forward with a speed she shouldn’t have possessed. The stake in her good hand plunged forwards through the spawn’s chest, but her efforts were fruitless beyond making the creature even angrier. At the last second it’d darted to the side, shifting just enough for the point to miss its heart.

With a growl of frustration, Nell decided she was done with trying to hit a moving target. She kicked a leg into the air to hook it behind the thing’s head, using her momentum to swing herself up by the crook of her knee until she’d sat herself on the spawn’s shoulders, hands placed on either side of its head. “Just gotta bring the inside out,” she reminded herself as she gripped her magic tight. She could feel it’s sludge-like blood responding to her will as it’s head began to fill with more than it could hold. Pulling her hands from the creature’s head, she tugged on the blood she’d pooled, bursting the spawn’s head in an explosion of brains and viscera. With the remains of the spawn painting her front, she slipped from it’s twitching body, catching her breath while she looked to see where Eddie might have gone. 

Nell told him to go, but Eddie couldn’t look away, let alone move. She climbed the vampire with precision and put a bloody end to it. He went momentarily slack-jawed. “What the fuck?” he breathed, sounding like a broken record. Eddie trudged towards Nell, remembering a final obstacle stood between him and the answers he wanted so badly. He placed the cross in his back pocket, making a mental note to return it to its rightful grave before they left, and reached out for her injured wrist.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked timidly, wanting to make up for the harm he caused her. “Or do you have some kind of spell for that, too?” He eyed her curiously, fine with either answer. If she had a handle on her blood loss, he would need to figure out a new way to make tonight up to her, but he could work with that. “I think the best I can do is a band-aid, anyway.” He offered her an apologetic shrug.

Nell fixed Eddie with a disapproving look the moment she realized he hadn’t actually moved an inch since she’d told him to leave. “You know- usually the best way not to get killed is to listen to me.” Mindlessly, she let him take her wrist, not entirely having expected him to ask for it, but offering it nonetheless. Her head tilted in amusement as he mentioned spells, realizing he’d already pegged what was going on. “You mean you’re not buying the whole- I just got really buff after highschool or something like that?” To be fair she had gained more muscle, but it was of a leaner make than anything a bodybuilder might have. 

“Well- it’s not really...a spell but-” As he eyed her wrist she willed the blood to clot where the skin had been broken, once again flexing her bloodkinesis as the wound scabbed over. “I can just do that for the most part. I never really learned a lot of healing.” She gave him a smile anyway, coming down from the high of the kill slowly but surely. “You can still put a band-aid on it though, if you want,” she teased, though thankful for his concern.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eddie replied flippantly. For Nell’s sake, he kept his indifference towards death light-hearted. Whichever way the wind blew, Eddie didn’t mind much. Either he lived another day, or he didn’t. In his opinion, both options seemed eerily similar. “We can play pretend, if you want, but I’d rather pick your brain about magic.” He knew another spellcaster, Bex, but she didn’t seem as advanced as Nell. “God, how did it take me this long to figure it out?”

Nell healed herself, in a sense, and Eddie’s eyes widened with delight. “So cool,” he said, catching her gaze again. “You don’t have to coddle me. I get it, you’re all tough and scary now. Way beyond band-aids.” As he spoke, he meandered back to the grave he’d stolen from and returned the cross with a quiet apology. Ghost or not, they deserved more respect than he’d given them. 

Returning to Nell, Eddie knew better than to think they’d walk back to his car without a good lecture. “I’m fully prepared to be scolded now, by the way. Hit me with your best shot.”

Eddie might have thought his jokes about dying were landing decently, but Nell’s face didn’t so much as twitch into a smile as he spoke the words. After the last year...after the last six years she knew that death wasn’t a joke. She supposed it made sense that Eddie would have a skewed vision of it as a medium, but that didn’t mean she had to encourage him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he’d watched someone he loved die, woken up covered in her blood with her headless body lying next to him on the ground. Shaking her head to dispel the dark memory, she simply sent him another stern glare. “No fun in dying, really.” She wasn’t going to entertain his frivolity when it came to his life. But magic was easier to talk about, and something that wasn’t tainted by her trauma. Her voice grew lighter again, curious to know what he himself was curious about. “Sure- what do you wanna know? Or how much do you know already? It probably just took you so long cause you couldn’t see around your giant hair,” she teased, leaning on an old laugh. 

Another little smile crossed her face while she watched his reaction to the magic, always thinking it endearing the reactions of those who were less acquainted with it. “Actually I’ve always been scary and tough, thank you very much,” she joked with a wrinkle of her nose— even though she’d gotten in more than her fair share of fights in highschool. 

Picking up his busted camera from the ground, Nell thumbed some dirt from it’s lens before taking a closer look, trying to figure out if a simple repair spell might have it back in working condition. He’d asked for a lecure, and she was left wondering when she’d become the kind of person who doled them out. “This isn’t a game, Eddie,” she began seriously. She should have known the levity of the start of the evening wouldn’t last. Not in a place like White Crest. “You can’t just waltz into supernatural infested areas without protection. And you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Nell didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. Eddie understood that most people took death more seriously than he did, and he knew they had their reasons. On the other hand, their solemnity didn’t invalidate his indifference. He preferred not caring, it made life easier. The subject-change suited him just fine, however. “The conditioner I use doesn’t help either, eats at the brain cells, y’know,” he said, going along with her joke. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know much. Magic’s fascinating, but I’ve always been satisfied with the whole telekinesis thing, so I didn’t do much digging. So, feel free to talk to me like I’m an idiot, not that you need my encouragement,” he teased.

“Taking on a vampire is a little different than maiming Cindy S,” he playfully corrected her. Eddie knew Nell had never been a push-over, but this was groundbreaking as far as he was concerned.

As expected, she provided words of warning. He nodded along absently, his eyes fixed on the camera in her hands. If he kept up at this rate, he wouldn’t be filming for much longer, anyway. Lack of equipment meant lack of content. “And, why is that?” he asked curiously when she finished bending his ear. He figured he knew the reason, or at least the jist, but he wanted to give Nell the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, her reasoning wouldn’t be as boring as everyone else’s.

“We both know that’s a lie because you don’t have any brain cells to eat,” Nell commented dryly, wishing they could have stayed in the sun of their earlier conversation, the lightness of it having been reminiscent of simpler days. But these weren’t simpler days anymore, and apparently the spawn and whatever bullshit this town would toss out next hadn’t wanted her to forget that for more than the half an hour it’d taken for her and Eddie to get here and get into the cemetery. “You know telekinesis is basically just another form of magic,” Nell supplied, remembering saying something similar to Blanche. An ache of longing shot through her as she thought of her best friend, wishing they could be physically closer, but knowing that Whtie Crest had essentially sapped the flush from her friend’s cheeks, and the joy that was meant to color them. “It’s cool you can work with it though since not all mediums can.” She assumed he knew as much. “But magic…it’s built on a few core things...intention, will, focus…” She didn’t know if this was the best place for the conversation the more she looked around. For all they knew there could be another spawn lurking, or a fully fledged higher vampire who was thirsty. “We should talk about this somewhere else, though.” 

“Cindy S fucking deserved it,” Nell joked in reply, honestly having half forgotten the way she’d broken the snotty girl’s nose while in highschool until Eddie brought it up. “And she was already halfway to being a bloodsucker with the way she acted.” 

Nell’s annoyance grew as he seemed more preoccupied with the camera than herself. “You’re not even pretending to listen,” she accused, the displeasure plain in her voice. “Because you’re either gonna end up dead or have someone else end up dead or get hurt.” She waved her wrist as a reminder, not above using it in a moment like this. “And maybe you don’t mind being a ghost, but it’s not fucking fun for the people who care about you.”

Hearing Nell refer to something he possessed an innate knack for as ‘magic’ brought a grin to Eddie’s face, a grin that grew larger when she called attention to how rare of a gift it was. Telekinesis wore him out more often than not. Even now, he felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache making itself known. But, despite the pain and exhaustion, Nell’s opinion made him feel proud. “Yeah, it can be a little tricky,” he admitted, thinking back to Willow propelling him across her living room. “Right, right, totally. Time and place, I gotcha.” Eddie wouldn’t have minded loitering in the cemetery until daybreak, but Nell was the one recovering from a vampire bite.

“Yeah, well, all busting her face accomplished was convincing her parents to let her get a nose-job.” Eddie pursed his lips at the resurgence of long-ignored memories. Present day left a lot to be desired, but nothing could convince him to relive high school. 

Eddie opened his mouth to assure Nell he usually went on these adventures alone, but her next comment caused him to immediately slam his jaw shut. His brows knitted together as he considered her. He wanted to argue, to insist that no one cared about him enough for it to matter. He would’ve used her as an example, calling attention to how long it took her to reach out to him. If people cared so much, they would act like it, and he wouldn’t feel so alone. But, admitting to feeling that way would’ve made him sound pathetic.

“I’m not gonna die, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, turning away to start walking towards his car. “I’ll try to be more careful.” Eddie hoped she wouldn’t call his bluff. “Do you need a ride?” he asked over his shoulder, eager to change the subject.

“A new nose job, and the satisfaction of leaving me and my friend alone,” Nell jokingly corrected. Cindy had been one of the ones to make fun of Blanche and the way she seemingly spoke to herself at times when addressing a ghost. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the temper she’d had in highschool, and referring to it as past tense was most likely generous— but she liked to think she’d improved from the even more violent youth she’d been. Besides, she’d break someone’s nose for Blanche any day. 

“You don’t know that,” Nell rebutted instantly, still annoyed at how lightly Eddie seemed to be taking everything. “You know White Crest loves to eat people up and spit them out.” How many people had gone missing or been killed in their highschool class alone? Too fucking many. Perhaps she was leaning a little too hard on her personal feelings when it came to the matter, tired of watching people she cared about die, but if it made Eddie live another day she wasn’t opposed to tough love. “There’s a thousand and one things out there that could kill you, and you’re throwing yourself at all of them. I’m not being dramatic.”

After years of separation, Nell couldn’t tell if his words of being more careful were sincere or something he’d said to placate her, but she figured this was another conversation they shouldn’t have in the middle of the cemetery with beasts potentially lurking in the shadows. “I’m not done with you,” she clarified, not wanting him to think he’d gotten out of this. “But I’ve got my bike that I need to take home. Thanks for the offer, though.”

White Crest’s history didn’t bother Eddie. He coped with his surroundings by romanticizing how capricious the town was rather than fighting against the inevitable. When people questioned him, he often wondered what made them so certain they knew how he should live his life better than he did. Whatever it was had yet to be explained to him in understandable terms. He didn’t want to argue with Nell anymore.

“I said I’ll try to be more careful,” he reiterated.

Eddie stopped when Nell politely turned down his offer and turned to face her. It only felt right to pay proper attention to their goodbye. “Don’t mention it,” he deflected. “It was good seeing you again, Nell. Fingers crossed, next time will be a little cozier.”

#// BLESS FRANKIE for being so goOD #ch:eddie #wickedswriting #chatzy #those magic changes #suicide tw

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Dun dun dun! I started writing it like the day after I finished the last one and I’m already working on the next one. That’s how excited I am here. As always, a huge thank you to @edward-or-ford for being my beta!

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies

Chapter Six: The Reveal

Can you feel it now? I’ve weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out. - Cartel, Only You

There are instances in our lives when we see or hear something so utterly shocking that our brains short-circuit and stop working entirely beyond the basic functions required to keep our bodies alive. Some things simply cause the brain to react in a 404-thought-process-not-found sort of way. That’s just how it is with some things, and it can’t really be avoided.

When confronted with something our brains cannot handle, we have a tendency to think, say, and do, unusual things. Someone might laugh at the shock of seeing a corpse, but that isn’t because they actually find the situation amusing. They are simply so horrified that their brain doesn’t know how to react, and so the person laughs as a coping mechanism.

In that strange, incredible, unimaginable moment, Mabel recalled holding her grandfather’s hand as he murmured nonsensical things on his deathbed. He kept saying that he was going on a trip, but he wasn’t packed or ready, that he couldn’t leave yet. Mabel was only eleven at the time and didn’t really grasp the significance, but she eventually came to understand that her grandfather, though not really there mentally, recognized he was dying and that his brain was trying to help him cope with the impossible.

Mabel was not dying, however, although she thought that perhaps she was already dead (she felt rather weightless, and the scenario she found herself in seemed entirely out of the question for her, so what explanation could there be other than there being an afterlife she didn’t even necessarily believe in? Did people who were in love with their siblings even get a happily ever after(life)? Mabel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to overthink it), so when Dipper pulled his sleeve back over his wrist and pulled it against his stomach, looking away with adorably flushed cheeks, it occurred to Mabel that he probably shouldn’t have been moving in slow motion, but he was. It was like she was falling, and she was in that split second right before you hit the ground where everything moves so slowly it almost seems like time is frozen completely.

She’d been right. He’d been planning on showing her his soulmark. And she was… no, no. That’s not possible. It had never occurred to Mabel that Dipper could be her soulmate and she had therefore never done any research, but how could it be possible that she and Dipper shared a soulmark? She’d never heard of such a thing. As far as she knew, the general consensus on incest was… unfavorable, to put it mildly. Sure, technically speaking, all soulmate couples were legal provided both parties were of age, but she’d simply never considered the possibility that incestuous soulmates would have ever even come up.

The only logical conclusion was, of course, that she had misinterpreted what she saw, and that while Dipper did have a soulmark (and the skin surrounding it wasn’t red and irritated the way it usually was with newly formed soulmarks), it most certainly was not a match with hers, although it was similar enough to be mistaken for hers upon first glance.

No. Of course it wouldn’t have matched Mabel’s soulmark. She was the freak, after all. Dipper was normal, and he had a normal soulmark just like everyone else, and he probably knew who his soulmate was, and he was gonna start dating her and move in with her in one of the government-funded Young Adult Soulmate apartments, and they’d get married right out of high school or maybe even right away, and they’d have their first kid of many right after college, and Mabel would be left trying her hardest to be kind to the soulmate-turned-wife-turned-mother-of-Dipper’s-children and the lucky bitch would get to touch Dipper in a way that Mabel never would and he’d look at her in a way he’d never look at Mabel and Mabel would babysit their children while Dipper and his wife/soulmate (who was decidedly not Mabel) went on dates and came home all lovey-dovey and they’d have sex like all the time because soulmates always had sex all the time and oh god if his soulmate was seventeen already then Dipper would’ve… he already would’ve… oh god oh god oh god no she didn’t wanna picture that, anything but that, no-

There was the sound of a quiet, gasping breath of someone who was very clearly crying, but it wasn’t until Dipper’s head whipped around to look at Mabel with wide, shocked eyes that she realized her cheeks were wet and the sound had come from her own throat.

Dipper blinked at her, surprised, and all Mabel could think of was if the makeup was waterproof or not, thanking of how furious Candy would be if she knew Mabel had ruined her friend’s Sephora eyeliner and mascara by crying, before remembering that yes, it was indeed waterproof, much her relief.

“Uh…” Dipper’s voice was awkward and squeaky and ugh stop being so fucking adorable you fucking asshole. “Why… why are you crying?”

Mabel took another watery breath. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

Dipper stared at her dubiously. “No, I don’t think you are, so please tell me why you’re upset.”

Mabel whimpered and shook her head, wisps of hair flying around her face as she did so.

He ran a hand over his face (which bore a remarkable resemblance to a tomato that had been genetically engineered to make it as red as possible) and tugged on the hair hanging over his forehead.

“Look, I know… I know that I’m not what you wanted, or what you pictured in a soulmate,” Mabel’s eyes shot up from her hands in her lap to his face. What? “But, I mean, would, y’know… would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Mabel couldn’t speak at all. “I mean, I was pretty surprised, too, when I found out, but I was also really, really happy, because there’s no one I’d rather have as my soulmate than you, and I get that the whole twincest thing is pretty gross to most people so it’s fair if you feel that way, too, of course, but even so, I… I…”

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before speaking again, his voice stronger and surer. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I feel like it’s just been building up for years and after we hit seventeen I couldn’t keep holding it in, and I had to tell you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry. Mabel, I…” he looked at her, something intense and crazed and alive swirling in his eyes, and his voice returned to a whisper again. “Fucking hell, Mabes, I burn for you so goddamn badly that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me.” There was a severity to his voice despite the whisper. “I’ll give you the fucking world, I swear, I’ll give you anything you want. So I’m gonna ask again: would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?”

The tears hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t even slowed. He opened his mouth to speak again (it seemed that once Dipper started with the whole revelations thing, he couldn’t really stop), but Mabel cut him off.

“How long?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d finally said something. “Huh?”

“How long have you known?”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

“I’ve had my mark for as long as I can remember, Dipper,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You must’ve had yours for just as long. How long have you known?”

He buried a hand in his hair, blushing to his roots again. “Remember that time when we were Skyping and mom left you alone for a minute and you showed me your soulmark? Yeah....”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was… that was three years ago!” Mabel’s voice was still quiet, but then she exploded. “Do you… do you have any idea, any fucking clue, the slightest goddamn inkling, how much agony I’ve been in? Do you have any idea at all?”

Astonished by his sister’s rage, Dipper shrunk back. “Uhh… no?”

Mabel was fuming. How dare he keep something so important from her? “You… you… you bastard! I have been in love with you for years! Years of guilt and pain and… and misery just because I loved somebody I felt like I shouldn’t, but whoops, guess it turns out it wasn’t even my fucking fault, was it, it’s just that my absolute dickhead of a brother or a soulmate or whatever the fuck you are now, he just decided not to tell me, or he forgot, or some other bullshit!” Her voice was shaking, and she was cursing way more than she normally did. Dipper, for his part, looked properly guilt-stricken. “Anything else, asshat? Anything else you’d like to share with the class?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

She was still crying, but they were angry -furious, really- tears. His face was frozen in shock, however. “You… you’re in love with me?”

Mabel blushed too, and forced herself to stay angry despite the adorably dopey, astonished, thrilled expression on his face. “So what? That’s not the point here,” she snapped.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, still in shock. “Really? Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure, but again: that’s not the point here!”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, he just kept staring at her, an elated expression on his face. “You’re in love with me,” he said again, his dopey smile growing.

“Yes, I’m in love with you, get over it, Dipper!” She actually raised her voice at that point. He certainly wasn’t absorbing her words any other way. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Now then, is there anything else I need to know?”

He blinked, recognition returning to his eyes as if he’d been snapped back into reality. “Well, I guess there are some things you should probably know…”

“Well? She snapped after a few seconds.

“Well, uh… apparently, siblings being soulmates isn’t that uncommon, and usually siblings who are soulmates are actually twins, so it’s not like we’re super unusual or anything.”

“Great to know I’m not a freak of nature. Thanks so much for telling me as soon as I started feeling that way,” she said sarcastically.

“Err… sorry,” he mumbled. “There’s also, well… I mean… I’ve done a lot of research on why soulmates are who they are, so…”

“Uh huh. Go ahead, then,” she said with a wave of her hand, having done minimal research herself.

“Well, you see, it’s determined by…” he murmured the last part so quietly she couldn’t hear him.

“What’s that?”

He told a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “It’s determined by emotional compatibility as well as capability for physical attraction, and physical compatibility, which obviously means, um…” she raised her eyebrows at him. “Which obviously means… y’know. Sexual compatibility.” He coughed uncomfortably. “It’s also determined by who can help the other person have the healthiest kids possible. Even kids that are born from incestuous soulmates are usually healthier than unrelated non-soulmates.”

Sex. Sex with Dipper. Dipper on top of her, underneath her, inside her. Images from dreams and fantasies flashed in Mabel’s mind, but she pushed them away as firmly as she could. She was still pissed at the dickbag, after all.

Oh, but children with Dipper. Their children. Together. Fucking hell, she’d never truly let herself consider that long enough to want it, but once she thought about it, she wanted it so badly she thought she might start crying again.

No! Shoving those thoughts from her mind, too, Mabel scowled at him.

“Anything else?”

He sighed. “Well… our parents have known our whole lives.”

“What?”

He nodded. “Why d’you think they kept us apart, or fed us that allergy bullshit? We’re not allergic to each other, they just didn’t want us touching ‘cause we’re soulmates.”

“And I assume you’ve known that for years, too?”

He nodded again.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, staring out the window briefly. She needed to escape. She needed to escape him or she’d throttle him. Undoing her seatbelt with shaking hands as more tears threatened to fall, Mabel unlocked the car door and threw it open.

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?” Dipper questioned as she stood up, heels digging into the cold, wet grass.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she told him flatly before shutting the door behind her and walking off.

To her horror, she heard the driver’s side door open behind her, sneakers touch the ground, and the close of the car door.

“Mabel!” He called out, and she could tell he was jogging over to her. Dammit. Just as she was about to get to the edge of the clearing and escape into the woods, too. “Mabel, wait,” he’d reached her side. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he told her, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“For one thing, you took off your coat earlier and you didn’t put it back on and it’s way too cold for you to be walking around in jeans and a shirt, no matter how…” he shuddered, his eyes raking over her. “No matter how incredibly attractive you may look.”

Squashing down her joy at the compliment, she kept eyes on her feet. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Tears caught on her eyelashes as she blinked. She felt so conflicted. She was so angry with him, but she wanted nothing more than to nestle herself into his arms. She wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to whisper her adoration in his ear. She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to kiss him. She was thrilled beyond all measure at the prospect of being his soulmate, but she was also terrified beyond belief. She’d never been so conflicted in her life.

“Mabel,” he said her name quietly, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like she was the answer to every question that had ever been asked in the history of the world. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I was scared of what our parents would do, but more than anything, I was so, so petrified you wouldn’t want me.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, tears still flowing freely as she kicked at the grass. “We’re soulmates. I have no choice but to want you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh? We want each other no matter what.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she snapped.

“I can’t help it. I love you, and I’m just… I’m so fucking happy you love me back.”

“Idiot,” she said again.

“Yup, that’s me. I’m an idiot,” he agreed, still very clearly grinning like he’d won the goddamn lottery. Raising her gaze to his to glare viciously at him, she found herself startled by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was, and- no, no, still mad, remember?

Noticing she’d been crying again, she supposed, he took a step towards her, hand outstretched. “Mabel, I really am sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

She backed up faster than a Smart Car trying to get away from an eighteen wheeler. “N-no!” She stuttered out. “Don’t touch me!”

If he got any closer, she didn’t think she’d have been able to stop herself from whacking him.

He stopped, hurt clear in his eyes, and lowered his hand. “It’d make you feel better if I held you,” he told her softly.

“I don’t care,” she snapped again.

“I do, though. You’re angry and hurt and I caused it. Please let me fix it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hit you if you come near me,” she warned.

“That’s okay. Hit me if it’ll help,” he took another step, this one slow, as if she were a wounded animal he’d found in the wild and was afraid he’d scare away.

All of a sudden, the fear that had been pushed out of her mind in place of her anger came rushing back. He’d never touched her before, and she was petrified.

He stepped closer to her, and time seemed to slow down again. When he finally reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she felt as if the universe would collapse in on itself.

She couldn’t hold her sobs in, so she didn’t, and she couldn’t really seem to keep her fists from pounding against his chest, either. He was so warm, and he was being so goddamn sweet, and in that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being.

He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just letting her hit him. Not that it was particularly hard, of course; it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest. She looked up at his stupid, idiotic face to tell off his stupid, idiotic ass again, just for good measure, and when she did, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb.

It was the first time his skin had touched hers in as far back as either of them could recall.

And then, suddenly, she remembered something about soulmates who hadn’t, y’know… consummated things yet: skin-to-skin contact flipped what was essentially an aphrodisiac switch that had a tendency to make both parties lose a fair amount of self-control.

It was probably an evolutionary mechanism meant to encourage reproduction as quickly as possible. In all actuality, though, it was just a pain in the ass.

Mabel subconsciously pressed her body against Dipper’s. The arm that was still around her held her tighter, his hand traveling into her hair.

“When’d you get so tall?” She wondered as she looked up at him. Her burning anger had given way to a different kind of burning altogether.

He shrugged. “Kinda happened… gradually, I guess?”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, playing with the fabric of his coat and staring at her fingers.

“Mabel?” His voice was soft, and she looked back up at him questioningly. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Images flashed through her mind with lightning speed again. “Yes,” she whispered.

With a slowness that was downright agonizing, Dipper placed his hand on Mabel’s cheek (to hold himself steady as much as her, but don’t tell either of them that), leaned down, and gently, ever so gently, pressed his lips to hers.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gf fanfiction #pinecest #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #fanfic #looks like someone picked a whole bushel of oopsie daisies #my writing

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

I Like Boys

A Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Story

Master List

Pairing: Stucky   |  Word Count: 2256  |  Warnings: Language

Based on the Todrick Hall song I Like Boys

A/N: With all the crazy in the world right now, I thought we could all use a little something fun and fluffy. This is my first Pride fic, please be kind as I did my absolute best. Love who you love, people. There’s nothing greater in life.

This fic is for @magellan-88​ who inspires me even when she doesn’t intend to.

***

James Buchanan Barnes was ninety-seven years old when his Hydra programming finally broke. He spent two years running from his best friend, another two in cryo, and five after that apparently blipped into nothing. After the fight - were, somehow, they all came out alive - Bucky decided, fuck it! 

How many times had he almost died? How many chances had he had? How many more would he waste before finally living his best life?

So he retired—sort of. 

There was no such thing as "retiring" when your idiot best friend continued to throw himself out of planes and into the line of fire on a regular basis, but Steve did slow down. He took on a more managerial role, was promoted to "General" for his service, and spent his days sitting on his ass behind a desk. 

Bucky liked him there. He liked having Steve unbruised and unbusted at the end of the day, saunter through the door to their joint living space and holler, "Honey, I'm home!"

It was a joke on the blond's part that was wearing thin, for when Bucky decided to live his best life, he'd begun to do some research about what that meant. Be true to you was a big part of it. But to be true to himself, he had to be honest with himself, and honesty meant admitting he'd been in love with Steven "is this a test" Rogers for most of his natural life. 

Sadly, Steve liked girls. Case in point, one Peggy "gonna bust some balls" Carter. 

Bucky couldn't exactly compete with that. She was one classy dame, and it hurt him to know that Steve would likely never move on. This era and it's dating rituals had thrown Cap for a loop. Women were too forward, and Steve - surprisingly - too shy to dive into the world of casual dates and sex. 

For Bucky, it was different. He liked boys. There, he'd said it, but he still hadn't said it to Steve. Natasha, however, was a different story. She'd grown used to him sighing and pining on her shoulder. She said she hated it - she didn't - but she bitched enough for both of them. 

Then she took him shopping. 

While he was standing in some place called Sephora with miles of makeup and aisle of perfume that kind of made him want to sneeze, he had the shock of his life. All this "girly" crap everywhere, but in the middle of it was a guy? A cute guy. With well-groomed hair and this fabulous winged eyeliner - nothing like his Hydra days - wearing really cute skinny jeans and glitter on his cheeks. 

Enchanted, Bucky left Natasha's side and slowly made his way over. The guy, man, guy he wasn't sure, looked up and flashed him a smile. 

"Help you, honey?"

Bucky blinked. He had fantastic skin. "You're so shiny." A flush immediately reddened his face. 

But Sephora Guy, whose name ended up being Ben, laughed and lightly patted his arm. "Aw, thanks, sweets. You looking for some skin care tips?"

Bucky nodded, unsure what else to do. 

"Honey, you came to the right fella!" 

Ben grabbed his wrist and led him to a chair where he bid Bucky sit. For the next hour, he was educated on everything from moisturizer to foundation to why Ben wore makeup. They talked about hair care, skin care, and what it meant to be "out" with such enthusiasm. Bucky had never spoken so candidly with anyone about his sexuality and found it enlightening. 

He left the shop with five hundred dollars worth of product, a list for the hair salon, and a bunch of links to reputable websites if Bucky had more questions. 

The smug on Natasha said she set him up, but he didn't care. He'd had the best day.

And when everything wound up on the counter in his and Steve's shared bathroom, Steve only arched a brow, smiled, and said nothing. 

Bucky continued to learn, research, and occasionally visit the mall to have coffee with Ben or his partner Matt. They were always kind, never impatient, and easy-going. He'd begun to wonder if they hadn't realized who he was until one day he asked, and they both looked at him with amused smiles. 

"Metal arm, slightly brooding, runs around after a "little punk" but now with a much better skin routine? Honey. Please," Ben snorted.

After, Bucky began to explore and try new things. He cooked, found a love for baking, and especially loved baking for Steve. The man refused to slow down, so it never affected Steve's physique, but Bucky found he was a little bit softer around the middle, his face fuller, his body less hard, and he liked it. 

It was nice not to be combat-ready all the time. Sure he could strap on the black and spend nine hours running down Hydra, that hadn't changed, but he had the smallest pudge of a belly, a soft little roll that he loved. 

Then, out of the blue, Natasha introduced him to roller derby. 

Bucky was thrilled! He'd never seen anything so flashy, showy, violent in all his life that was meant to be fun! Oh, sure he'd watch the wrestling that showed up on TV, but he felt most of that was so phony. This? This was chaos. This was mayhem. 

This was freaking awesome!

And the women were great. They were loud and boisterous, or sweet and shy, but when they put on their gear, they all became demons. Natasha occasionally trained with the group known as Red's Devils, a group of women from difficult circumstances she sponsored during the blip. It gave the ladies an outlet for grief, anger, pain that they wouldn't have had otherwise.

Once they met him, they'd put him in a pair of roller skates and dragged him around the track. Of course, with the serum and his enhanced body, getting his balance and figuring out how to move on wheels was cake, and soon he was skating around the room, learning neat tricks and tips from the women catcalling and laughing along with him

Bucky loved it. 

Finally, after seventy years as a Hydra pawn and all the crap that came afterward, he'd figured it out, found himself, and was happy. The only thing he wasn't satisfied with was Steve. 

It was getting harder and harder to pretend like he didn't tent his pants every time the big dumb blond wandered through the apartment in a towel. Or that "Honey, I'm home!" didn’t make his damn heart flutter. Some days it hurt to look at his stupid beautiful face and not want to kiss it. Or punch it. 

He swore Steve's shirts were getting tighter. Sometimes, it felt like his eyes lingered. 

The shit was messing with his head, dammit!

Then, just as the world was getting it's shit back together, the pandemic happened. Covid 19 struck, and everything stopped. The world stood still, went into lockdown, and Bucky wanted to slam his head on the wall.

He had been going to his first Pride event with Ben and Matt, ready to step outside and be who he was, while those who didn't approve could kiss his lily-white ass. He was going to tell Steve. He was going to stop hiding, conforming, resiting who he was. And it all went to shit thanks to a fucking virus.

He was pissed! It wasn't fair! He'd been so prepared. 

Natasha found him pouting on the couch in the common area of the now mostly empty compound. Anyone who could go home was sent home, leaving them running a skeleton crew of people, and forcing as much separation as possible. 

She flopped down mostly on top of him. "Why so glum, chum?"

"Pride's cancelled," he muttered. 

She snorted. "No, it's not."

He rolled his eyes. "We're under a shelter in place order, Natalia."

"I'm aware, Barnes," she huffed. "But Pride isn't cancelled. Just because you can't strut down the street waving a rainbow flag doesn't stop what this month is about. It's about you, celebrating you, and all the people who came before you who fought, screamed, raged against injustice and in some cases, died to be able to stand up proudly and say I'm gay, I'm bisexual, I'm transgender. You can't go out. That doesn't mean you can't celebrate."

She patted his chest and left him sitting there to think about what she said.

***

The music that pounded through the compound jerked Steve's head up. Reports forgotten, he rose and went to look out his office door, only to gape in shock as Bucky, wearing the shortest, tightest, black shorts he'd ever seen and a cropped top that showed off his cute little belly, rolled by on roller skates. He'd cut his hair not long ago, his interest in styling it a new hobby. Right now, it was fluffed high and held there with wax, looking soft and shiny and pretty as hell. Glitter sparkled on his cheeks, on his lashes, and glossed his lips. 

He smirked as he rolled by, blue eyes amused. "Close your mouth, Rogers."

Steve swallowed thickly and followed Bucky down the hallway. Those shorts should be illegal. The top wasn't much better. The cropped top was blue, sleeveless, showing off defined muscles and metal arm. His skin freaking glowed against the blue. 

It was seriously unfair how hot his best friend was, and Steve thanked his lucky stars he'd worn sweats and underwear today that helped disguise the tent forming in his pants. 

When Bucky stooped to pick up a big ass rainbow flag, Steve's jaw dropped. He knew what June first represented, how did Bucky?

Like a moth to a flame, Steve followed Bucky into the common room where Bucky was skating in happy circles, singing along to the music. 

"I like boys, I like pecs, like them arms when they flex. Like that print in them sweats. Tell them, girls, "Thank you, next." I like when they text me sexy pics of 'em, like them abs when there's six of 'em. Tell them girls I'm sorry; I like boys, Mama, boys like me."

Steve's jaw dropped. His mind refused to compute what he was hearing. It blue screened, whited out, and returned in time to watch Bucky drop it low and twerk like he'd done it all his life. 

"I like when they shake it, shake it. I like when they grind real slow. I like when they almost naked. Tell dad I'm so homo. Lights off, doors shut. Tall, dark, clean-cut. Thick with a bubble but. Yup, Mama, I like boys."

A sound like a fax machine escaped his throat as Bucky danced, shook his ass, swung his hips, and sent Steve's mind so far into the gutter he wondered if it would ever come out. 

"Bitch, B to the O to the Y to the S, Boys will be boys, and with boys, I'm obsessed. Boys in their gym clothes, boys in a dress, and if boys are a crime, then I'm under arrest. 'Cause I've been boy crazy since the boy scouts. Fuck the closets, let the boys out. Don't be a camel when you are a llama, period. No comma, bring on all the drama. Mama, I like boys, I like pecs, like them arms when they flex. Like that print in them sweats. Tell them girls, "Thank you, next." I like when they text me sexy pics of 'em. Like them abs when there's six of 'em. Tell them girls I'm sorry; I like boys, Mama, boys like me."

The music continued to play, but Bucky rolled away from the window, leaving the flag he'd been carrying behind on the couch when he skated up to Steve and stopped. On the skates, Bucky was inches taller and caused Steve to tilt his head back to look up at him as he had when they were kids. 

"So," Bucky murmured, a blush under the glitter and eyes suddenly shy and uncertain. "I like boys."

Steve's heart clenched. Before he could stop himself or second guess what he was doing, his hand shot out, grabbed the back of Bucky's neck, and dragged his friend down in a kiss that had been pent up for almost a century. 

Bucky squeaked, flailed once, almost rolled away, and finally wrapped his arms around Steve in a near bone-crushing hug. Lips slanted, mouths softened, parted, inhaled, changed the angle and softened. 

Tingles raced through Steve's body as he kissed Bucky, his Bucky, pouring every bit of emotion he felt into it. Then, he nipped his teeth into Bucky's lip and slowly pulled away. 

"I'm bisexual," Steve murmured. "I've known for years."

"You punk-ass piece of shit! Why didn't you say something?" Bucky barked, but Steve noticed he didn't let go. 

"There wasn't time." He gently squeezed Bucky's nape. "And how do you tell your best friend in the whole world you've been in love with him your entire life?"

"Steve…" Bucky whispered, resting their foreheads together. "You're an idiot."

Steve kissed him again because there was no refuting that logic.

***

From the second-floor observation deck, Natasha turned her phone camera from the scene below to her grinning face. The live stream event had hearts and comments blowing up her Instagram. "Happy Pride everyone. If those two old farts can figure it out, anyone can." 

She blew a kiss at the camera and ended the stream.

-The End- 

#i like boys #stucky #tumblr exclusive #for pride month

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 4: Mass Effect + Mass Effect Andromeda

Summary: 2179. What should have been a normal shore leave on the Citadel leaves Alistair and Bo Peep Shepard in a place they’ve never been before: teachers. What can these battle hardened biotics teach young Kitty and Dick... and why do they look so damn familiar?

---

“Well… we’re here. What do you want to do?”

“How about anything other than getting shot at?”

Now that was something Alistair could agree on as he stretched out as far as he could. His body was still sore from the last mission, the lack of sleep, and the ride to the Citadel. Honestly, he was amazed his bones weren’t cracking to bits as he walked along, taking in the artificial sunshine of the space station. Given what he had just been through, it was a true surprise he was still one piece.

Well, maybe that was to be expecting. After all, he and Bo were N7. They were supposed to be tough.

“Could always head to the Tea Cozy, unless you wanted to save that until tomorrow.” He threaded his arms behind his head as he walked, definitely not the picture of a military officer by any means. “Or we could check out the hamsters at Citadel Critters.”

Above his head, Bo rolled her eyes. “Last time I was there, you forgot I existed when you got too deep into discussions on how fucked up the breeding lines at the gift shop are.”

“Well, they are. I don’t know what they think they’re trying to pull…” His voice trailed off. Bo was giving him that look. “Right… specialist knowledge, general application. I’ll stop now.”

She gave him a nod. “That a boy. Honestly, I could go for chicken nuggets that come from a fryer instead of a microwave. It’s been too long since we’ve had real food.”

Real food sounded great right then, especially if it involved a milkshake. Just thinking about them made Alistair’s stomach growl. Judging from the noises coming from his sister, he wasn’t alone in the assessment. Easy enough – lunch it was. Lucky for them, they weren’t too far from one of their other favorite spots.

A few moments later, and the pair were seated by one of the many fountains that dotted the Citadel, their food spread out in front of them. For most people, it would have been a lot. For them, not so much. When it came down to it, they both just needed to eat way more food to keep their biotic systems operating at peak capacity. There was a term for it, and Alistair knew it, but he wasn’t thinking like a medic then. Instead, he was cradling a large paper cup happily, the sleeves of his jacket insulating his hands as he poked in the straw into the bright green concoction.

Nothing like Citadel Burger’s Shamrock Shake. Was he being a bad Irishman that he loved them? Probably, but it wasn’t like he was born in Ireland – that was his parent’s problem, and they were dead, so they really didn’t have anything to say on the matter. Until they managed it, he was content to put a hurting on the milkshake as he started to nibble on the straw.

“You’re supposed to use that to drink, you know.” Bo snickered as she started on her first order of nuggets. The first dip of the day was barbeque sauce, or at least it smelled that way. “You look like Fluffytail like that.”

He would’ve stuck out his tongue, but that would’ve been messy. Instead, he just kept drinking his milkshake and swinging his foot that didn’t quite touch the ground. What could he say, the benches were designed for aliens, and he wasn’t exactly designed for playing basketball. It was something he had… mostly… come to accept.

Mostly.

“I won’t bite through this one.” He leaned back to watch the crowd in front of them. Then downside of Alliance life was being absolutely surrounded by humans. Even back on Mindoir, there had been aliens around, even if they had been far less numerous than the space station. It was why he liked coming to the Citadel – it helped remind him they were part of a community. Of course, that community wasn’t all that fond of humans yet, but they were getting there.

Speaking of community… off the distance, Alistair watched a C-SEC agent picked up the pace. He looked rather upset about something, but it wasn’t clear what. Or, rather, it wasn’t until the blast of light knocked them into a bush.

“What the fuck.” Bo shot him a glance as she got up, bringing her nuggets with her. “Was that?”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence – Alistair had felt it too. It was the telltale tingle of human powered biotics, as if their amps were ringing out in response to the activity. More than that, it was uncontrolled as hell. That left only a few options – someone who was clearly about to melt down, or they were a kid who had no idea what they were doing. Neither were circumstances he trusted a C-SEC agent to handle, and from the looks of things he wasn’t alone. So, he picked up his milkshake and followed behind his sister as they headed over.

The officer, a young turian with blue face paint, was groaning in the bush. His armor was a bit scuffed, but he hadn’t sustained any permanent damage. He wasn’t alone either – in front of the bush, a teenager was laying spread eagle, dazed and confused.

“Human cannonball’s a classic… so who launched them?” Alistair glanced from human to turian. Neither looked badly hurt, but they probably had some scrapes that medigel could fix. “Bo, want to go?”

But she was already gone before he could finish the statement, heading off in the direction of a nearby park. That left him alone, shaking his head as he activated his medigel dispenser. Lucky for him, he had just refilled it before getting off the ship.

Medigel – never leave home without it.

“Alright, so who wants medigel?” He glanced towards the turian, who was already starting to come to. “How about you, Officer- “

The turian stood up, wincing a little. “Vakarian. I’m fine, just a little rattled. Some human kids…”

His voice trailed off. One of the human kids was still groaning at his feet, clearly the loser in the fight between the species. Honestly, they were kind of pathetic, laying there in a lump, half hidden by an oversized sweatshirt that was clearly a few sizes too large.

Boy, was that a reminder of his teenage years…

“I think they need this more than you.” Alistair knelt down to assess the patient. “Hey, are you able to focus?”

Green eyes slowly focused on him – good, no concussion. While he was shit at gauging ages, they couldn’t have been older than 17. More than that, the metal jutting out of the back of their neck was new. Most kids that weren’t him got that at puberty and spent time after that practicing so they didn’t blow shit up. Clearly, someone was still in the blowing shit up phase.

So… he’d put them 16 at best.

“Y-yeah…” they groaned, holding their head. “Where…”

Officer Vakarian filled that in for him. “In the Presidium. You know you’re not supposed to use biotics here, Dick.”

He looked around, towards where Bo had run off. “Did Kitty cause it this time?”

Dick and Kitty… well, Alistair was in no position to judge anyone’s names Still, at least the officer knew his would-be patient. That would make getting them back on their feet easier, especially if he had access to their emergency contacts.

He wasn’t really used to using those while people were still alive… so this was going to be a new one for him.

Dick shook his head, and then instantly seemed to regret it as he started to groan. “Maybe? It’s kind of a blur, Officer Vakarian…”

He looked up at Alistair, frowning. “Was it that bad you brought the EMTs in?”

Alistair chuckled as he waved his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m just a passerby. I can fix up your scrapes, though. It doesn’t look like you’ve got a concussion. Still getting used to your biotics, I see.”

He offered his hand, and the boy took it. Much to his quiet relief, Dick was still shorter than him. It was a little petty, but the marine took his small victories when he got them. Besides, the boy would outgrow him in a year or so. They always did.

Maybe he had been kidding about being mostly ok with his height… he was only human.

“Yeah… I got my amp six months ago.” Dick touched the back of his neck, frowning. “How’d you know?”

Before Alistair could answer, his attention was drawn by a flash of pink. Bo had returned, and at her side was another teenager. This one shared Dick’s face and green eyes, but the hair was blue and there was a bandage over their nose. At least they didn’t seem too put off by his sister, though the sight of Officer Vakarian caused them to blanche.

Ah. He knew an instigator when he saw one. Somebody was busted.

“We were totally not in the common area, Officer Vakarian, I swear.” Who he assumed was Kitty held up her scraped hands – yep, those were going to need medigel. “Dick and I were just…”

The turian shook his head. “Just using your biotics outside of a registered practice zone. That’s the third time this week. I left you off the last time, but now I’m going to have to call your parents on this one.”

The two teenagers winced at the thought, and Alistair felt a pang of sympathy. While he hadn’t been as young as them when he’d first gotten his amp, he remembered the early jitters of new biotics and the need to get them working. Of course, he had never launched a C-SEC agent into a bush, but… well, hormones and biotics were tricky.

“What if my sister and I talked to them about it?”

All eyes were suddenly on him – the hopeful gaze of the two would-be criminals, the mildly confused glance of the turian agent, and his sister, looking amused by this. Talk about a tough room to work. At least sweat didn’t bead on his forehead. Maybe he was getting used to public speaking.

And maybe the hanar would get into rodeo. No way he was ever talking in front of people…

“And… what would that do?” Officer Vakarian cocked his head to the side. Most people would take that as instigating, but there wasn’t the tone to his voice. Instead, he sounded curious. Maybe he wanted to see how this would play out.

Smart man – maybe he’d be the lucky one to make it to retirement.

Bo was the one who answered for him. She motioned to her neck, allowing the metal to catch the light. Unlike the two teenagers’, her amp had seen some action. It was scuffed and starting to look a little dull. His probably wasn’t much better, but it wasn’t like he could see it. After all, it was on the back of his fucking head.

“We’re biotics who got past the unintentional blow shit up phase.”

Emphasis in her case on unintentional.

Alistair nodded though, keeping his eye on the turian all the while. “Plus, I think two N7 level marines could give these two a worthy lecture. No need to get their parents in on this, Officer. You’ve probably got a hundred more important things to do, right?”

Nothing like giving someone an out and reminding them of the work piling up to get them off your case. He could practically see the gears churning underneath the face plates and face paint. Just a few more seconds of contemplation…

Officer Vakarian sighed and shook his head. “Try to keep an eye on your sister, Dick. I’ll let you both off with a warning this time since these two are going to vouch for you.”

The twins visibly relaxed at this. Not long after, the turian departed – probably to go write a parking ticket or mess up someone else’s day. This left Alistair and Bo in a weird quasi state of loco parentis that definitely made him sweat a little as he eyed the two teenagers in front of him.

Maybe he should’ve thought this one out better.

“Well, I’m getting back to our food before the Keepers clean it up.” Bo glanced over her shoulders at their new friends. “Follow me if you don’t want to get arrested, squirts.”

Back to the food it was then. Much to Alistair’s relief, the Keepers had left it alone. Of course, that didn’t matter much – there were mild injuries to be treated. More importantly, he realized he was getting a rather dirty look from Kitty as she glanced over at him.

Was it something he said?

At least Dick didn’t seem to mind as he settled into the bench. “Thanks for saving us… I don’t think you said your name.”

“Alistair, and that’s my sister Bo.” She nodded her head at his introduction. “Not a problem. Who wants the medigel first?”

Kitty shot him another dirty look as she tugged at her brother’s sleeve. “Thanks for the save, but not int- “

Contact with her scraped palms was enough to make her hiss. Alistair shook his head as he motioned for her to come over. She fought it briefly, but soon she was seated across from him, holding out her hands as he applied the medigel. Maybe in a few years she would be a proper badass like Bo, but she still had a ways to go. Still, not bad for a 16-year-old, especially one so new to biotics. There was hope for her yet.

“Best to clean these up before they get infected. Biotics mess with heal rates and germs can get trapped underneath the skin.” He motioned to Bo. “Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

Next to him, his sister bristled. “That was ONE time…”

And once was enough for him.

“Yeah, whatever, thanks.” Kitty pulled her healed hands away, almost as if she was burned. “Can we go now? I get enough N7 bullshit at home, I don’t need it from two randos on shore leave.”

She sent him a withering glance. “Especially not from the boy scout over here.”

Well, wasn’t someone a fucking delight…

“Kitty, they’re just being nice…” Dick frowned as he turned towards the pair. “Sorry… we uh… don’t really get along with our dad. He’s N7 too.”

Huh. Now that Alistair was getting a good look at them, something did strike him as vaguely familiar. It wasn’t exact, but he’d sworn he’d seen those eyes somewhere before, it just was hard to put his finger on it. Maybe it had been someone he had been in training with? It was going to drive him nuts… damn name was on the tip of his tongue.

“Most of them are bastards except for me and the boy scout.” Bo, always the fountain of truth. “What’s his name? Maybe we kicked his ass for you once or twice during training.”

At the mention of her father’s ass being kicked, Kitty brightened. “God, I hope so. He’s such an ass… but his name’s Alec Ryder.”

…

Oh, fuck.

Alistair felt his eye twitch as he looked from one teen to the next. He could see it now, in the defiant set of Kitty’s jaw and the pointed accuracy of Dick’s gaze. Normally, he saw those features combined and set into the face of an old man he wanted to blast into a fucking wall. Maybe the outright lack of assholeism was enough to make him temporarily forget the face of the man he hated more than anyone else.

Who the hell had taste bad enough to marry Alec Ryder, and where could he send his condolences?

“That asshole is your dad?” Bo snorted. “Al, I think you just found someone to beat you in the shittiest father competition.”

Oh, how he wanted to agree… but was it wrong to badmouth a father in front of his children like this?

Dick must’ve been a mind reader, because he smiled awkwardly. “It’s ok if you don’t like him, we think he’s an asshole too.”

“Oh, thank God…” Alistair sighed in relief. “I didn’t want to talk badly about him in front of you if you liked him.”

So sue him, he didn’t exactly put much stock in father-child relationships. After all, his fucking sucked. Judging from the looks on the twins’ faces, they knew exactly how he felt. And how could they not – they had Alec fucking Ryder for a father. The man was a blowhard douchebag on a good day; Alistair didn’t even want to think of what he might be like at home. His poor wife…

Nah, he was definitely divorced. No way anyone stayed married to that man for long.

“Well, at least we know other Alliance people hate him. Guess that means we’re not crazy.” Kitty seemed visibly cheered by this as she grabbed for one of Alistair’s fries – he let her; she was a growing biotic. “So, what about that little lecture you were planning? Can we skip it if we promise never to do it again and don’t cross our fingers this time?”

At that, Alistair shook his head. “No, we do need to talk about that. You got lucky this time because your strike was off. Full force could’ve really hurt Officer Vakarian or your brother.”

Dick’s head picked up very slightly at that – and as the pieces fell into place, his heart went out to him. Kitty on the other hand just looked mildly annoyed at the assessment of her aim as she stole some more fries. Lucky for him, he’d gotten extra.

“I didn’t even dent his armor…”

Bo snorted. “Not with a strike that weak. If you really want to put some force into it, you need to generate a little spin before you strike. It makes it hit harder.”

“It does?”

Oh, no. He could see where this one was going… best to nip it in the bud before Officer Vakarian got launched out the airlock with their next practice attempt.

“You need better control before you attempt something like that.” He sipped absent-mindedly at his milkshake. “And better separation of your attack styles. That felt like a half warp, half singularity to me. I would focus on getting each move down first.”

It was an argument that often fell on deaf ears, especially if they belonged to teenagers. He could just tell from the look on Kitty’s face that the kind of practice he was suggesting would bore her to tears. On the bright side, at least her brother looked interested. Dick actually had his omni-tool out and was honest-to-God taking notes.

Kid like that was an ego boost and a half… talk about having a favorite.

“That works fine for defense, but if you’re interested in front line assault, you need power. Sometimes it come down to who can hit harder.” Bo cracked her knuckles for emphasis. “I’d start lifting weights honestly.”

He shot her a look over his milkshake. “You’re going to turn them into berserkers, Bo.”

“What, it’s a valid strategy. You teach yours your way, I’ll handle mine.” Bo motioned for Kitty to get closer. “Now… the key to a good smack…”

Alistair was left groaning as he gave up – he knew a lost cause when he saw one. At least there would always be a future for them in destruction. On the bright side, he still had an attentive pupil, eager for more information. He could work with that.

“Well, since they’ve decided to go blunt force, we could discuss defensive maneuvers…”

“Sure, sounds good!”

Music to his ears… now, where to start?

---

“Thanks, Bo! I’ll let you know how the weightlifting goes!”

Kitty’s voice carried over the Presidium as she and her brother waved goodbye. Apparently, it was time for them to go home for dinner. This left their two impromptu instructors standing by the fountain, watching them go.

They were good kids, if a little green.

“Kid’s going to be killer when she gets older.” Bo chuckled, clearly pleased. “How about yours? We got another brick wall in the making?”

Alistair nodded as he worked to clean up their trash. “Dick has promise if he works on controlling his barriers. The new amps are great for fine motor skills. I can’t wait to see what they come up with as their hormone levels even out.”

With any luck, he wouldn’t see either of them in the Alliance anytime soon. As much as he appreciated them helping to keep his brain for overheating, the last thing he wanted was for a young biotic to think their only option was the military. Things were getting better now, or at least better than they had been when he was their age. Maybe with luck, they’d avoid it altogether.

That was at least his hope for them.

“Kitty said she’s going to send me some vids when she makes progress. She’ll probably slide the string bean in there too.” The sight of the clock in the nearby square caused Bo to wince. “Shit, it’s really that late? We were talking to those kids for two hours…”

No wonder his throat hurt so much…

“Guess we just got excited.” The pair started walking back to where they were staying, plans still on their mind for tomorrow. “Though, hard to believe they’re Alec Ryder’s kids.”

Bo snorted at that. “Yeah, they’re actually hu- “

She stopped, and then started to snicker. “Damn… can’t believe I didn’t pick that up until now.”

Alistair cocked his eyebrow as he watched his sister chuckle. If there was a joke, he wasn’t getting it. Of course, maybe he was just tired from the explanations. Either way, it be nice if she let him in sometime.

“What?”

“Their names are Dick and Kitty Ryder.” Another snicker. “Dick Ryder, come on…”

…

“Come on, Al, you know you’d have gone there too if you were in his shoes. Don’t hate cause the kid picked a better name than you did.”

He wasn’t hating… he was appreciating the balls it took to run with the joke all the way to legal documents. There was a difference.

“I would’ve gone with Knight or Ghost personally, but we all know my opinions on riding dick.” It was a miracle he kept a straight face at that.

“He had to, you already got Kitty Ryder. Gotta complete the set after all.”

Bo was grinning like the cat that ate the canary, and honestly, he wasn’t doing much better if the shake of his shoulders was anything to go by. At least he managed to keep walking, though a thousand jokes were still bubbling up with every step he took. He pushed them down – didn’t want to overdo it after all.

“Come on, let’s get back before we find some more biotic children to mentor. I want to watch Forensic Files VI tonight.”

“Ugh, you always want to watch Forensic Files…”

What, it was like the only thing available in like every system. So sue him.

Still, Alistair got a good feeling about the future as he walked with Bo by his side. If the new generation of biotics were like the pair in the park, maybe things would turn out better. Hell, maybe one day he’d hear about the Ryder twins making their own history.

Of course, that was for another day.  At the moment, he had more pressing matters in mind – like beating Bo back so he could wrestle away control of the remote for a few hours. That was a fight he was willing to go to the death on.

Ah, nothing like shore leave. Why wasn’t it always this enlightening?

#merweek2021 #Bo Peep Shepard #Alistair Shepard #Dick Ryder #Kitty Ryder #and ft Officer Vakarian who didn't realize he just met his husband lol

[frstbiitten]

cw: torture (physical/emotional)

The sensation of being asleep and awake at the same time overwhelmed her in the middle of her slumber state, she couldn't see anything, wasn't dead either, she knew that the world around her was still present, she just couldn't recognize it. Her eyes opened slowly, adapting to the environment, it seemed that she was under the night sky, she could not see anything. Her eyes needed to get used to the darkness, to the humidity of the place, to the lack of sounds, to everything.

Felt no pain in her neck this time, not now at least, but she did feel pressure around it, she moved her hands slightly and couldn't move them individually, she had to move them together at the same time. Her sight suddenly became clearer with the illumination from a light bulb over her head, she tried to cover her face and heard a metallic sound, there was something around her wrists, they were chains. 

"She's awake." She managed to hear even though she couldn't quite make out who was speaking, it was a female voice, listened to it approaching her, she was watching her closely and bent down to be closer to Frost. "Looks like the anesthesia just wore off."

"..." She was watching her too, her features were strangely familiar as if she had seen her before, long ago. Her dark eyes, the shape of her nose, her voice, it was like seeing a ghost for the first time in a deceased acquaintance. "... Mom?"

She didn't hear an answer to her question, but that woman didn't look at her with kind eyes, quite the opposite, there was sadness in them. "Sit down." She ordered her without caring much if she could or not, it was an order, intrigue drove Frost to obey her word. "No, I'm not your mother, she's dead, instead, I'm her sister Rosemary, Dahlia's older sister, didn't she ever tell you about me?" Talking about Dahlia was like removing a dead body from an empty grave, it generated great remorse just remembering her death, everything that had happened with her, but FRostdidn't remember that at some point Dahlia mentioned any member of her family.

"No... she never did."

"...How disappointing, but I imagined it."

She fixed her gaze on her, Rose reminded Frost a lot of her mother but as if she might have lived a few more years, she died young, and even though it had been almost six years since she died, she could still remember what she looked like, however much of a memory shrouded in a sad haze. Noticed that they weren't alone in the room, there was someone else, behind Rose was a young man, she couldn't fully see his face, as he was leaning against the wall with his arms across his chest.

"... where... where am I?"

Rose turned away from Frost, taking steps back, there was only disapproval on her face, she knew all too well the discontent of hearing that her sister had never mentioned her. Well, now that she thought about it better, Frost couldn't remember any mention of her other family, her blood relatives, or acquaintances. Dahlia was very secretive, but remembering her in detail was causing her a great shock of emotions, it was taking her by surprise, all her effort to forget her was colliding with every attempt to remember what her life was like before everything.

"You were born in this house, just like your mother, it belonged to your grandparents, and now me and my son Shawn own what's left of the heritage, what's left of the Gladwyn's. My parents upon learning that Dahlia was going to have a bastard child decided to banish her from the house, she had broken one of the many family traditions-"

"Blah blah, I don't care, tell me why the hell I'm here!" Frost suddenly interrupted Rose no matter how she watched her, neither how the figure behind her was going to react, maybe that was her son.

Rose sighed in exasperation before continuing, that impatient manner, what little she could remember of her sister was almost perfectly portrayed in her daughter, almost down to the tone of voice. It was amazing how much like her she was, except for the ghostly tone of her skin and hair, at the same time as her icy colored eyes that seemed to rummage through her head until they reached her soul, the coldness she emanated was to be expected, both she and her son got used to it. They knew what awaited them.

"You want to know why you're here? Well, I'll start simple: I've been looking for you for years, Frost, I was sure my sister's daughter would know about her disappearance, and when Shawn found you he started spying on you, following your footsteps, always on the lookout, remember the guy whose head exploded in front of you while you were talking? That was my son." The image of such a memory hadn't quite left her head, it was still fresh to reminisce whenever she wanted. "But I always knew you wouldn't come to me the easy way, so I had to opt for the hard way."

Something clicked again in Frost's head, she was doing her best to think of a plan to escape but they could shoot her with a tranquilizer again if they wanted to, as many times as they felt like it.

"You were the one who put a bounty on my head?"

"It was easy, but I have two choices for you: either you die, or I take away your powers, still, neither knows what the outcome will be in the end, your biology is subtly different from humans, your body reacts differently to certain chemicals, who knows to what extent I'm saving you or killing you, one way or the other, I know you were the one who killed my sister, how else could it be explained?"

Had it been an accident in self-defense or a purposeful action? She never sat still thinking about the latter possibility, Dahlia had died wrapped in a sheet of ice, she was only 12 years old at the time but it impressed her how her instinct had reacted. Some time ago her mother had become hostile, maybe Rose was going to be much worse.

"It was an accident." Frost stated as she gazed at the ground, she had no desire to look back at her, maybe she was enjoying how her insides were twitching from the sudden jolt of memories.

"No Frost, none of that was an accident, my sister fucked with an aberration and look what she got in the end, you sure made her last days a living hell, I know what your anger is capable of, you destroy lives in your path without caring in the least, you took the lives of so many innocent people, I'm doing the world a favor, so what if you die in the end, do you think anyone will cry for you? In the end there will be no one left, all you do is destroy everything that others love!" It was either emotion or rage that was taking Rose's voice, she appeared to be someone so calm on the outside, inside she was a fury of flames and tears, her eyes had gone red, her son on the other hand did nothing in the meantime.

"I didn't mean to kill her, it was an accident." The memory itself was forcing its own way into surfacing in her mind, it was like a withered plant suddenly coming back to life.

She remembered almost everything, the reason for their argument had become a recurring one, for she hadn't set foot in the world beyond the door of the apartment in a long time, she had left school, she needed the fresh air and to talk to others, to be like just another girl. Dahlia saw nothing positive in letting her go out, the excuse was always the same: she shouldn't let others find her or see her, most people out there wouldn't understand why she looked like that, nor why sometimes ice crystals would accidentally emerge from her fingers, nor why the air around her was so cold. Her own mother painted her as not human at all, and she was right, she wasn't entirely, but Frost had had enough of spending a life locked up. The truth was that she had inherited her mother's anger, it was destructive anger, out of control, and the more they argued, the better way to silence it was to move to physical aggression. That night had been no exception, but it had ended differently.

"Things like this aren't by 'accident', think Frost, if you hadn't wanted to avoid it, don't you think she would alive by now? Look at what you are now, someone who kills for a living, your life is nothing but miserable, you're a danger to others, you killed almost 20 people in one night, you're probably being sought by the police right now, and who knows how many more people you killed, and all for what? You don't understand, but you're worth nothing in the end."

Suddenly, the chain tightened, she was tied to a cement post inside the basement, her eyes glowed with a ghostly light, her skin paler and from her mouth came only roars like a choleric dog. Frost couldn't reach her but she could try to freeze her, from the palm of her hands a sphere of ice was beginning to emerge.

"Shawn, the taser."

"Yes, ma."

The boy stepped out of the shadows only to taser Frost, her muscles suddenly paralyzed and she fell to the floor, needed to get used to this, is how they will control her. She heard Rose walk to the left and grab something from a metal table, she couldn't see what it was, but she immediately felt a prick in her arm, whatever it was, Frost instantly began to feel calmer and exhausted at the same time.

"It will be long months for you, if you don't die trying, you're lucky at last, you're with your family at least, don't you feel less lonely?"

Was it some kind of anesthesia? Again the world was behind a veil, she could barely feel Shawn arrange her position on the floor so that she was not face down, placing her on one of her sides. Their figure was a blur, she watched them walk away as she could hear the rustle of a wooden staircase. They were leaving her alone, when would they return? The ice in her hands retracted, felt it returning to her bones, didn't know exactly what she felt but it wasn't good.

It was going to be long months, Frost was both a lab mouse and a death row inmate, a very slow death. She would have to get used to the walls, the spacious basement, the echo of her breathing, but nothing beyond what she could feel and hear.

#novel #torture tw #((this one is shorter but here it is))

[thegeminisage]

the south is like another country

i have an entire essay on how the current radicalism and steep political divide in this country can be traced directly back to the civil war - rural white southerners here playing the part pre-ww2 germany, the part of a resentful, conquered nation assimilated into the nation that conquered them, because if you think about it the south/the confederacy WAS its own nation for a time, that lost a very bloody war, and paid very steeply for it (not that slavers didn’t deserve every bit of misery the “carpetbaggers” threw at them), and the bitterness from that loss/the lost capital from having their slaves freed has been handed down through the generations, to people who now live in abject poverty while their livelihoods are destroyed by late stage capitalism, and their schools are so broke a lot of people here don’t even know how to read, and their towns are eaten alive with meth, and they’re still looked down upon by most of the country for being racist uneducated backwater hicks (to be clear, we should always look down on racism and racists, but it’s not making them any less bitter/ripe for being drawn into the cult of tr*mp’s america and f*cism).

but anyway this post isn’t about that! this post is about how when i go up north and i say “y’all it really is like i’m living in a different country” NOBODY BELIEVES ME. we speak the same language, we’re all americans, right? PFFFFFT. this amazon van thing just drives it home (pun intended). here’s a list of differences from the deep south* to the rest of the country*:

*the deep south here meaning the RURAL deep south. sorry to everyone who lives in cities/the suburbs and/or in border states like maryland and virginia. i’ve been to maryland and virginia and they are technically southern and some of this applies to them but it is not quite as extreme as it is here. the rest of the country includes the other states i’ve been to (california, washington state, new york, etc), which are in mostly every area except the midwest. i cannot personally vouch for the midwest. sorry, midwesterners! rural midwest probably has a lot of things in common with the deep south because rural life is different and also how easily people move around this country, but whatever

this is a long-ass post get ready

difference #1: DRIVING. driving & pedestrians are entirely different un rural areas vs urban areas. for starters, southern towns often do not even have sidewalks. this is because of 1. budget and 2. racism.

budget: rural towns are very spread out, and it costs major $$$ to put sidewalks in. it’s just not worth the trouble, financially, to put a sidewalk where only 12 people are ever going to use it, AND spend the money to maintain it. never gonna happen. racism: initially, suburbs especially in the south were seen as safe havens where people could get away from the stress of living in “urban” (re: integrated) areas. that the neighborhoods were only accessible by car and NOT by people who were too poor (black) to afford automobiles were just an added bonus. 

as such, the first time i left the southeast, i was SHOCKED to see people walking and biking WITH (or indifferent to) the flow of traffic. down here we are taught that if you are walking along the road (or biking, because bikers get lumped in with pedestrians down here), it is very very very crucial that you walk against the flow of traffic, because you cannot expect drivers to see you and not mow you down. the onus is on YOU to get out of THEIR way. additionally, walking in knee-high grass along the side of the road sucks, and because there aren’t many people here, the roads are usually totally empty. so oftentimes pedestrians just straight up walk ON the road. and if you do that you absolutely have to be able to see a car coming from a long way away, because rural drivers on completely empty roads tend to take them at extremely high speeds just for fun. the people who live diagonally across from me have had to replace their mailbox four times because folks take that blind curve at 90mph. i had a cat get hit by a car on that road. (they all live indoors now.) i even witnessed a car accident happen there when i was just outside minding my own business. ever see a tire fly 12 feet into the air and come down into someone’s windshield? that’s what happens when you hit power line pole driving like that.

the first time i ever encountered one of those pedestrian crossing buttons was in california in the early 2010s. i had literally never seen one before because we simply don’t have them here. they’re not very self-explanatory if you have been jaywalking your whole entire life because all you’re taught to do is look both ways and make sure the street is empty before you cross. northern/urban roadways are made so that pedestrians and drivers can both get to where they’re going. in rural/southern areas pedestrians might as well not bother.

interestingly, while not an entirely southern problem, there’s a loose correlation between rural areas and more problems with drunk drivers.

on the driving side, driving in a city is batshit insane. it’s both faster and slower. there is NO space and you’re expected to go whenever you have so much as an inch to worm your way in. there’s more traffic, and the traffic totally dictates your speed. in the south you can change lanes if you want to drive faster or slower and weave around traffic or let it weave around you, but in a city there’s no other lane to change to and if you don’t drive at the speed of the people ahead of and behind you you will die. you turn fast, you brake fast, etc. whenever i come back from driving in a city the people who ride with me think i’m insane. you don’t PULL ONTO A ROAD if you can SEE ANOTHER CAR THERE, what the fuck? meanwhile i’m like “lol that is six miles of space i have plenty of time” and give everyone in my vicinity heart palpitations until i readjust. 

tailgating in a rural area is something only assholes do (done by people on a two-lane road to encourage the person in front of them to go faster because the only other lane is for oncoming traffic), and if someone gets within one car length of me on a two-lane road i can very passively aggressively slow my vehicle to a crawl until they back the fuck off. in a city you’re lucky if you have a twelve inches between your bumper and the next car’s hood ornament.

difference #2: LANGUAGE. this is a small one, but the southern dialect combined with the lack of literacy means i am learning certain things late in life. phrases i have heard verbally with my ears but had never seen written out include: “chest of drawers” which i thought was “chester drawers” - “seven year itch” which i thought was “seven year each” - “albeit” which i thought was “i’ll be it.” i’ve made a deliberate effort to unlearn mine own accent/dialect but i run into weird shit all the time. remotes are mashers, shopping carts are buggies, you put stuff up instead of putting it away, i fix you a drink instead of pouring you one, we shoot the game instead of play it. my mom LITERALLY can’t understand me if i speak too quickly - she has to remind me all the time to slow down and put on my southern.

difference #3: TECHNOLOGY. issue of whether or not you personally have the creepy amazon vans aside, the rural south is behind the rest of the country on technology. things in cities are AUTOMATED. things like the little button you press to cross the street, tickets you take at parking garages, even the parking meters you find in cities, that’s just the beginning of it. one time i came across a little computer touch screen in a MCDONALDS where you put your order in. you didn’t even go up to the counter. you just put your order on the screen and swiped your card and then they got it ready for you and you never had to speak to a human person. self-checkouts, gas pumps where you can swipe your card and not go in and pay at first...the south got those YEARS behind everybody else. in the mid-2010s i went to DC and visited a target for maybe the 5th time ever and i was BAFFLED by the self-checkout. i had no idea how to use it! it was like less than ten years ago and i was IN MY TWENTIES and i had never seen one before! when we send a package we have to talk to a human person. when we order food we usually have to talk to a human person. apps for places like dominos and subway have not been in use here for very long. my county just got doordash LAST YEAR. 

because i am 31, and because the south is so technologically behind, i am actually old enough to remember how when you used to go to a gas station an attendant would not only pump your gas but wash your windshield for you while you just SAT IN THE CAR. that seems like something from the 50s but it actually was a thing here in my childhood IN the 90s. i wish i was making this up.

difference #4: INFRASTRUCTURE. this sort of goes hand-in-hand w/ the last point because so much of our infrastructure is made of technology, and it’s also more of a rural/urban thing than a south/north thing. but just for fun here’s a non-exhaustive list of things i don’t have in my town:

starbucks* - the first time i went to a starbucks i was in my 20s

a public pool - we used to, but now the only pool here requires a YMCA membership. the only baseball diamond in this county is also at the Y.

walmart

in fact, ANYWHERE to buy clothes that is not a goodwill or other secondhand store. i cannot buy clothing unless i order it online or LEAVE MY TOWN. almost all of the clothing i own is from walmart because it’s one of the only places in my entire county where you can actually PURCHASE clothing.

grocery store chains? pffft. my town has two entire stores and both are small southern chains. i didn’t go into a publix for the first time until two years ago when i went to florida. i’ve NEVER entered a whole foods.

food delivery? yeah, no. like i said, we got doordash last year, but before that the only place you could get delivery from was a pizza chain. we only have two pizza places in my town that deliver, and one is a local place, not attached to any chain, so i can’t spend my loyalty points there. (it’s very expensive there too.) last year it was CLOSED for six months because the manager got caught dealing meth. every last one of the delivery drivers was trafficking it for him. they all got fired and had to restart from the ground up. for that short time, it was not possible to get any food delivered to your house whatsoever.

a hospital/ambulance services - if someone is sick, we have to take them to the hospital in laurens, the town next door (about 15-20 minutes by car). the town i live in lucky - we have our own police and fire departments. (acab but you know what i mean.) joanna is a smaller town next to mine that isn’t a real town - it’s been demoted to a census designated area because only 2000 people live there. if they have an emergency, they have to use OUR fire and police departments, and LAURENS’s ambulance/hospital system

after-school places kids can go to keep from getting into trouble. we have the Y, if you have money (no one here has money), and we have churches, but mostly schools can’t afford to run too many extracurriculars. there’s nothing to do here but church and meth.

food banks: zero. we have food DRIVES sometimes where people will come from further away and bring free food, but if you’re hungry, there’s nowhere you can go for help - you have to wait for help to come to you.

libraries: we don’t have our own library. we have a branch of the county library that’s physically located in our town. but we share books with the rest of the entire county, so everything is always checked out or at the other branch. 

*we technically have a starbucks that’s in the local college campus, but only college students are allowed to be there. they’ll still serve people without a college ID because no one gives a fuck, but you can’t linger and loiter and hang out like you do in a normal starbucks. we also have one in the barnes and noble in greenville, which is about an hour away by car, but again, it’s a mini starbucks that serves a limited menu and none of that weird Starbucks Culture™

here’s a few things i don’t have in my ENTIRE COUNTY:

movie theaters - technically. we have a Historial™ one-screen theater in laurens that shows one movie for two weeks a month after it hits regular theaters and then switches to another, and if you miss it, too bad. this is a VERY recent addition - it wasn’t restores until i was in my 20s as a kid and a teenager i had to ride in a car an hour or more to go to the movies.

target. only commies and yankees have target. down here we do walmart.

malls

arcades

skate parks/skating rinks

bowling

museums

zoos/aquariums

campgrounds

fairs. our county fairground got razed a decade ago because there just werent enough people showing up to justify the expense. so no more fairs. you have to have people to fund things and down here there just aren’t enough people anywhere.

you get the idea. we don’t have entertainment. like i said, nothing to do but church and meth.

CLASSES FOR STUFF: knitting classes, dancing classes, driving classes? nope. gymnastics, karate dojos, golf, knitting groups, books clubs, cooking classes? [GAMESHOW BUZZER]. you can’t even hire a clown for a birthday party out here. we do have a shooting range. ONE. in the entire county. and a race track. and a rather infamous former kkk memorabilia store. they made a movie about that (serious tw for this trailer - they’ve got white hoods, burning crosses, pepper spray, the whole nine), which, yes, takes place in laurens, aka right next door to me. i used to walk by that place all the time when i was playing pokemon go. haven’t seen the movie but the shooting locations in the trailer make laurens look a lot bigger and prettier than it really is in real life - especially the racetrack, which, in the trailer, is actually PAVED. (this is inaccurate to real life.)

EDUCATION: lots of people can’t read. we have two schools for illiterate adults, one religious college, and one branch of one of the state colleges that has a skeleton staff and a fuck ton of computers (you basically just go there to distance learn/e-learn - if you want to take real classes from this college, you have to drive at least an hour.)

support groups/group therapy: almost none. we have al-anon and weight watchers, but that’s about it. there’s only half a dozen therapists in my entire county, and none that operate from my town. mental healthcare down here is bullshit.

on food: we don’t have many sit-down restaurants, where servers bring you your menu and your food. if you don’t count waffle houses, my town has 4. my county has 9. in and out, 5 guys, applebees, ruby tuesday, red lobster, olive garden, panda epxress? forget it. those places were and still are rare treats. i’ve only been to an olive garden twice. red lobster once. whenever i leave my county i BEG for chinese because there’s only two chinese restaurants in our entire county and one of them is crazy expensive and the other one sucks. 

we also don’t have the more important stores you need to like, live. if we need to exchange our router at a charter store? yeah, we don’t have one. need to visit the sprint store to get your phone repaired? nuh-uh, we don’t have any phone stores either. my family recently switched to at&t because it was the only company that had a physical location in our county. before that, we had to drive an hour for even the smallest repair.

on a grimer note: we don’t have homeless shelters! homeless in laurens county? too bad for you. we do have homeless PEOPLE. they just have nowhere to go except the churches

hospitals? only kind of. like i said, our county has one, but it’s not equipped to take seriously sick people. when my mom had a heart attack she had to be driven straight to greenwood, which is 45 minutes away if you’re not in an ambulance. they obviously made it faster than that, but still. that was scary. it took them a long time to get here. i had a distant relative of mine die before the ambulance made it because they were SO far out in the sticks, even further than me.

we also don’t have any specialty stores. sporting goods, gamestops, shoe stores, florists, craft stores, bookstores, best buys...forget it. if you can’t buy it at walmart, you just can’t buy it. the exceptions: my TOWN has one jewelry store, two hardware stores, and two auto repair stores. my COUNTY has three clothing stores, none of which are in my town, one place that sells used TVs, and one movie rental place. thrilling, right? i can rent a movie if i drive out of town. (i know streaming killed the rental business, but we also only had two places when i was a kid, if you counted the rental section in the grocery store.)

so, yeah. i know the term “shithole” is really loaded these days, but rural areas are just plain less developed, and often in seriously poor repair because nobody fucking uses them. there USED to be more stuff here - my mom was on a bowling league, and as a kid i had a birthday party at a skating rink - but late stage capitalism and drugs destroyed it all. people ran out of money to do things like skate and bowl and so those places closed. the south is full of empty store fronts and deserted strip malls slowly being eaten by kudzu. my brother got out of this town and whenever he winds up back here (not often) he remarks on how completely and utterly dead everything feels. “my friends who live in greenwood now think they’re all rural,” he said once. “they complain constantly about how remote it is. but they have no idea. they wouldn’t make it five minutes out here.” greenwood has its own movie theater, mall, starbucks, homeless shelter, food bank, and hospital.

so, yeah! if you were wondering what rural white southerners are so fucking mad about, that’s part of it. propaganda and xenophobia and racism has their anger directed ENTIRELY at the wrong people, but it’s hard to argue that the anger itself isn’t just a little bit justified.

difference #5: CULTURE. specifically culture around food, and the culture around the civil war. i could write an entire other essay about the culture of the church being everything because the church IS the only semblance of infrastructure we have and this is why the south is so homophobic, but we’ll skip that for now.

food: this is a quickie, because i sort of touched on it already, but there are like, almost NO vegetarian options here. there’s very limited choices of cuisine. it’s ALL waffle house and soul food. we have a lot of mexican places because we’re physically close to the mexican border, but aside from that, forget finding like indian or thai or japanese or anything like that. no sushi. forget finding a menu that has meals that are halal or kosher. there’s just. no culture here. no variety. you know? like i said, our entire county doesn’t even hit double-digits for proper sit-down restaurants.

civil war: i’m not going to go into the big stuff since i sort of covered it at the top and also this post is getting way too long, but to other white rural southerners there is legitimate baggage around the fact that my mom married a yankee and that i am half-yankee. and he’s not even a real yankee! he was born up north but raised in southern florida. (florida is weird. the further south you go geographically, the less southern you are culturally.) yet: my family makes jokes that are sometimes not jokes about this. when i drop this information in casual conversation people get that look on their faces like: ah, that explains it. it being that i am not religious and don’t laugh at racist jokes and maybe i am queer?? (strangers tend to be unsure about this last part, even when i’m wearing rainbows.) it’s because i’m half-yank! that explains everything! the xenophobia is SO strong here that white people are even xenophobic at OTHER WHITE PEOPLE. 

so in conclusion when i say the north is like another country, it’s because the people who raised me think of it like another country. and culturally! it is buck wild! the differences that there are! when i leave this town i feel like i step into fucking star trek! if you are not from the rural south, and you have never been to the rural south, please do not come here! i’ve been to a few different places now and this is definitely my least favorite one. 

#personal #i guess #it's ok to rb if you want to though??? tbh i don't think most people will even get to the end lol #anyway here's my college lecture about the south it's not very good or college level actually lmao #this is AIRQUOTE FIELD STUDY AIRQUOTE #the experiences u have as a half-yank white person in the rural south are crazy #bc other white people think you're okay to listen to them say what they REALLY think #and then backtrack rapidly when they realize you aren't #now that i'm grown and woke i can't believe half-yankee is even a thing. #anyway this post brought to you by the maddening realization of how technologically far behind we are #WE DON'T EVEN HAVE THE CREEPY AMAZON VANS #the automated package sending...what i wouldn't give not to have to talk to people to mail stuff #rip. :/

[twilightbimbo]

Solstice pt 1: Twilight AU

This is an expansion of the Twilight universe with my OC characters!

                                    home is where the heart is

                                    and i’m afraid

                                   i’ve lost my way

Samson

“Why do you think you’ll win? I know when you’re bluffing,” I chided, laughing. Esther rolled her eyes with mild amusement. Esther is the most competitive one in our family and she always tries to best me in poker, despite the fact that I have the gift for sniffing out inauthenticity. 

“‘Cus you suck at poker,” Esther pulled up the corner of her lips in a slight smirk and laid out her winning hand. 

“Har har,” I huffed in frustration. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I realized what was happening. “You assholes!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, the cards of Esther’s winning hand became fuzzy and resembled a glitching computer monitor and then smoothed out into her true, losing hand. I looked up at Esther who was nearly hysterical, tears in her golden eyes from laughing and clutching Chip’s arm. 

“Sorry, brother,” Chip smiled softly and brushed a lock that fell out of Esther’s bun and brushed it behind her ear. I booed loudly and pushed the deck of cards off the dining table between Esther and me in mock anger. 

“Clean that up, Sam,” Sunny said to me without even looking in my direction as she walked past with a basket of laundry. Sunny liked to blend in more than the rest of us. “Keeps us humble,” is one of her favorite phrases. Sunny is the matriarch of our family, even though she is the youngest of us. Technically. 

“Sam, if you couldn’t cheat, you would be terrible at poker,” Stella yelled from her upstairs bedroom. Stella didn’t need to yell, she could even whisper it and we would be able to hear her. But, Sunny forces us to act human at all times, even in our own house. Where no one can see us. Or hear us. Sunny’s word is law. 

Nathalia 

If I was human, I would be panting from running this hard and far. Actually, if I was human I couldn’t run like this at all. I still let air rush in and out of my lungs naturally, tasting the forest around me. I had been feeling the urge to see the ocean lately. I miss home. But, I can’t go back there for a lot of reasons. Mainly because it’s always sunny down there. So, the Oregon coast is perfect for my needs, it’s overcast here the majority of the time. And it felt familiar here, the beach was always a constant for me until I died.

 I have been on the run for three years. That is so dramatic to say, but it’s true. I’ve been through nearly all of California, eastern Oregon, and about every rural area in Washington. I haven’t been around the general public in what seems like forever. If forever means three years and three hundred and sixty-two days. I’ve missed normalcy. I’ve missed being able to call a place my own. I miss belonging to something.

The trees began to clear as the river widened and gray light bled between the branches above as they became more sparse. I slowed down into a more relaxed jog, my damp hair starting to cling from my shoulders all the way to the small of my back. I relaxed my pace completely as I could see the river desperately reaching the ocean, letting my bare feet sink into the mossy and wet forest floor. I walked slowly until the ground turned into sand. I tilted my face up towards the sky and let the gentle rain kiss my face. 

The waves crashing is familiar and it eased some of my longing. Longing? God, I’ve become so pretentious. In my human life, I couldn’t stand being alone for longer than hours and now I’ve gone years. I guess loneliness changes you. 

While I was roaming in Washington, I heard there were vampires who tried to pretend to be humans and go to school and stuff. I was transformed only a year after I graduated high school and I didn’t get the chance to go to college. I had my eyes on the University of California, Los Angeles. But, here I am. Not alive, but also alive. On a beach. In the middle of fucking nowhere. 

“Hey! Aren’t you cold?” A voice called out to me from down the beach. I’ve been practicing for this. I turned my head slowly, trying to be careful of the speed of my movements. I looked down at myself briefly. I was wearing a thin, gray sweater with jeans. And barefoot. It’s probably in the low forties right now and getting colder. So much for attempting to blend in. I looked back at their direction and while I was definitely too far away, I smiled tentatively at them. 

“Got thick skin!” I yelled back, shrugging. The person behind the voice was an older man, the wind carried his scent towards me. I could smell the warm blood and as he slowly approached me, I could hear his faint heartbeat. It would be too easy. In half a second I would be right in front of him, pushing his head back to expose his neck. His red cap would fall off and in my frenzy, I would probably tear apart his windbreaker. Blood on the sand. My eyes red. 

Nope, nope, nope. I’ve gone three years without tasting human blood. I’m not going to fuck this up now. I turned on my heel and went back to the forest, as soon as I was certain I was covered by the thick swarm of trees I took off sprinting. 

Where am I supposed to go now? I need to get better clothes to blend in. I need to find a place to live. “Live”. To be frank, I had it pretty easy. I never had to worry about this kind of stuff. In the distance, I can hear cars sporadically driving on the wet pavement. If there are cars, there are people and if there are people, there are clothing stores and libraries. I changed my direction in order to run parallel to the highway giving myself about a half a mile distance between me and the road. 

It wasn’t much longer, maybe twenty miles or so before I saw neon light tinge the fog and the smell of car exhaust got stronger. Smelled disgusting. I thought about how I would be able to wander into some random mom and pop shop to get clothes without sticking out. I’ve been practicing my self control but it’s much easier when I hold my breath. How can I go without talking to the small town locals without seeming like a bitch? I guess the only thing I can do is hope what they say about first impressions isn’t true. 

Luckily enough for me, the river, which had dwindled down to a creek, ran close enough to the highway so I could wash my feet and legs so I could look less dirty and homely. Unfortunately, about every person I passed stared at me. Everyone has dressed appropriately for the wintery beach weather. Except for me. 

The first clothing shop that looked like it could have clothes for people “my age” and nearly completely empty was the first one I walked into. I bought nearly everything. Well, bought is a loose term. It was about four days after my transformation that I realized I had an ability. A “super talent” he called it. If I want someone to do something I want, they do it. It’s never something intense like falling in love with me or giving me their kidney or anything like that. It’s small stuff like if I want their approval I got it. If I want their coffee, they hand it over. Small stuff like that. 

The shopkeeper handed over around six hundred dollars in merchandise with a bright smile on her face. I made a mental note to make an anonymous donation as soon as possible. Sometimes I felt bad about swindling people, sometimes I felt like it was a necessary evil. A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. 

It wasn’t that hard finding the library after the shops, and lucky for me, the librarian allowed me to stash my shopping bags behind her desk. The public computer whirred to life slowly, I could practically hear the viruses worming around. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, or even where. I tried local listings, Craigslist, even some dark web shit. It wasn’t until I caved and made a fake Facebook account that I was able to find a single bedroom apartment to rent. 

The man who owned the place was rather kind. I hardly had to use my ability to sway him to let me live rent free for the next foreseeable future. His name was Ernie and he had quite the beer belly and a bald spot on the back of his head, reminding me vaguely of a freshly cracked egg.  I assume that he felt quite flattered that I was flirting with him. Actually, it could have been the innate human experience of being my prey who is inevitably lured to his death by my inhuman womanly charm. Who could say?

The apartment was painfully small but fully furnished. I couldn’t say if it was fully furnished as a part of the lease, which I did not have, or my newfound landlord was just too caught up in our conversation. I’ve been told I dazzle people. Whatever that means. A large full length mirror hung in the bedroom and I took a full look at myself for the first time in a long time. 

My dirty blonde hair was a mess. I think I can see a dread forming in the curly mess. My black eyes peered back at me in disbelief, how could I let myself go like this? Dark circles clung around my eyes covering the splatter of freckles on my face, I looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. More like years, I chuckled to myself. I need to feed soon. An uncommitted corner of my mind thought aimlessly about what animals are in my vicinity. The other portion of my mind looked back in the mirror. I still was pale as before, still more beautiful than I ever was as a human. It’s weird, feeling this conceited but it was true. My very nature was to lure humans in, even more so with my ability. I can get humans to literally lay before me, neck exposed. But, I promised myself a while ago to never feed on humans again. 

This place was definitely not intended to be left fully furnished, a laptop laid on the desk in my new bedroom. I realized I never learned about this town before I decided on it. The ocean picked me. I wiped the laptop and set it up under my preferences. This time, password protected. My google search reminded me I’m currently in Brookings, Oregon. I had made a mental note earlier when I saw the welcome sign out of the corner of my eye on my way into town. 

Oh, perfect! I exclaimed internally. There is a local community college that happened to offer marine biology courses. Marine biology was my intended major before this happened to me. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I’m being an idiot and making stupid choices by surrounding myself with humans. But, honestly, I’m lonely and I don’t think I can take this punishment much longer. 

Part 2

#long post #twilight #fanfic #twilight fanfiction #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight fanfic #twilight resurgence #twilight fandom #carlisle #edward cullen #the cullens #bella swan #alice cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #jasper hale #esme cullen #jacob black #solstice

[bills-pokedex]

{By request from a couple days ago, background stuff! As a heads up, there will be three posts. The first one is this one, which covers character notes. The second will cover world stuff and other notes that are more or less basics to the blog. You do not have to follow the powerverse tag to understand any of this, and in fact, some of it might be handy to know in general. The last post will be a powerverse timeline.

With that in mind, enjoy!}

Characters

Bill McKenzie

Current Age: 28 (The blog started on his 24th birthday.)

Pronouns: he/him

Orientation: Panromantic ace

Race: Mixed (Johtonian/Galarian)

Birthday: December 31

Occupation/Employer: Pokémon researcher, inventor, engineer, admin of the Kanto/Johto storage system, and general jack-of-all-trades. Apparently writes papers for Celadon University but actually is paid full-time by the Pokémon Cutting-Edge Technology Research Institute

Pokémon: - Foxglove: Kadabra, M (The first pokémon Bill had ever caught and still one of his closest. Can communicate with him. Is the de facto leader of Bill’s team.) - Lucky: Venusaur, M (Bill’s starter, stolen from an illegal pokémon vendor in Goldenrod. Currently lives in Bill’s garden/greenhouse. Is supposed to guard it but spends most of his time sleeping and eating Bill’s crops.) - Primrose: Clefairy, F (The clefairy Bill once fused with. Mischievous af. Originally from Hoenn but gifted to Bill in exchange for an eevee. Judges Kantonian clefairy hardcore. Apparently enjoys tinkering with things. Also enjoys stealing Bill’s socks, making them into nests, and blaming the eevee.) - Tamarind: Eevee, M (It babey.) - Yew: Umbreon, F (Was most definitely not named Rosemary at one point. Mom of a thousand eevee kits. Judges everyone hardcore.) - Boxed: Farfetch’d, Vulpix, Exeggutor, Nidorino, Rattata, more eevee and eeveelutions than is probably healthy, Ditto

Family: - Father: Jack. Pokémon professor who specializes in moves (i.e., he studied moves before Kukui made it cool). Invented TMs/HMs. Currently a move tutor who likes to scam trainers out of coins in exchange for powerful moves. Spends most of his time at the Game Corner. Apparently a massive headache for Bill, who totally does not have father issues. - Mother: ???. Former kimono girl. World’s most patient woman. Loves her children equally, including her strange son who’s sometimes a pokémon. Just wants her kids to be happy and safe. Sometimes asks Bill in full-on Japanese in front of Lanette whether or not he’ll ever ask “that nice coworker of yours out” because “she’s cute and very interested in you.” - Older sister: Christa. Contractually obligated to kick Bill’s ass if he misses his weekly check-ins (to ensure he’s still alive and not a pokémon). The Mycroft to Bill’s Sherlock (canon, not BBClocke, you heathens). Jill-of-all-trades. Trainer extraordinaire. Runs a YouTube channel where she breaks into old places and hunts for ghosts. Sometimes those ghosts are real and perfectly catchable. - Younger siblings: Brother, followed by sister. Both are proud of their brother but don’t really get him. His youngest sister gave Lyra his phone number. - Grandfather: Galarian and thus doesn’t know every Kantonian/Johtonian pokémon. Good-natured. Physicist. Miiiiiight have worked on some top-secret Galarian projects, which might explain why skipped regions to go live in Johto back in the 60s. - Claims that the children of the kimono girls from his mom’s former troupe are his cousins. The only one who entertains this idea is gym leader Valerie. He has never met his mother’s actual family, nor does he know who they are.

Character Notes: - Animeverse but not really. Lives in a decomissioned lighthouse called the Sea Cottage because, as he puts it, “I can.” Also speaks with a very posh accent, dyes his hair green, and dresses like the Doctor, if not a gentleman from a steampunk webcomic. - Possesses wit drier than Orre. It’s often hard to tell whether or not he’s serious when he says he doesn’t know what’s up, but if it helps, just remember that the rock that he lives under has Kanto’s best wifi. - Would totally be an anarchist if he wasn’t egotistical enough to believe he can fix the system if they’d just listen to his friendly suggestions(, president of the Pokémon Association). - Worships Ho-oh and absolutely takes Ho-oh’s sacred flames in vain when startled/under stress. (The other Johtonian legends are technically his gods too, but he doesn’t take them as seriously.) - Strong believer in “do as I say, not as I do.” Will give people plenty of advice to not do stupid things, yet will do stupid things for science. - Thinks all life on Earth is worthy of respect. Unless you’re disrespectful to life on Earth, at which point, fuck you. (Note: Not an anti-abortion statement.) - Pacifist. This, combined with the fact that he’s not that great at strategy under pressure, is why he failed his gym challenge pretty hard. (He wasn’t that half bad of a trainer, though.) - Has accidentally merged himself with, in order: Primrose (the original Clefairy Incident—canon), rattata (canon), nidorino (canon), and finally flygon (powerverse). No one quite knows how he’s managed to do this unintentionally three times, but there you go. (Note: Everyone knows about the Clefairy Incident because Red is a snitch.) - Other canon facts: lactose intolerant, loves eevee (but also every other pokémon too), often unshakably bubbly regardless of circumstance. - List of confirmed crushes includes: the Goldenrod Flower Shop girl, Steven Stone, probably Lanette. - Apparently calls Lanette “luv” and “love” if he wants something. - Collects pokémon, comic books, and houseplants. Really likes superhero comic books in particular. Spinarakman is his jam.

---

Lanette Hamilton (“LH”)

Age: 28 (Six months older than Bill.)

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: Bi with strong leanings towards men

Race: Mixed (Hoennian/Unovan, with some distant Galarian heritage)

Birthday: July 2

Occupation/Employer: Pokémon researcher, software engineer, admin of the Hoenn storage system. Employed by the Hoennian branch of the Pokémon Cutting-Edge Technology Research Institute but does contract work with Devon as well ... much to Bill’s chagrin.

Pokémon: - Mary: Alcremie, F (Adorable baby of the team.) - Evening: Galarian ponyta, F (Full name is Princess Evening Glimmer of Ponytaville Castle. Asshole ponyta who likes showing her affection with a well-aimed Psychic.) - Lacroix: Budew, M (Asshole budew who once dynamaxed and misses it.) - Ariel: Clefairy, M (Asshole clefairy who hates dragons. Apparently has a crush on Primrose and thinks her tinkering is adorable.) - Neptune: Swampert, M (Lanette’s starter. Brawns over brains. Pretty much watery Lucky. Enjoys chilling out in rivers/with Lucky instead of doing any actual guardwork.) - Sam: Medicham, M (“Sam” might have at one point been short for “Samsara”; Lanette realized this was not cool after she grew older. One of Lanette’s usual right-hand pokémon. Calm. Cool. Will punch you through the earth if ordered to do so. Can mega evolve. Serves as Lanette’s sounding board whenever Brigette isn’t around.) - Boxed: Skadi (Glalie, F), Braeburn (Applin, M—was going to evolve into an appletun but then just didn’t), Raijin (Manectric, M), Pepper (Flareon, F) - Formerly: Bill

Family: - Parents: Divorced. Both remarried. Lanette doesn’t talk about them much and is apparently not close with them at all. They were apparently both wealthy, however, which is how Lanette wound up going to pretty exclusive schools with no problem. - Older sister: Brigette, manager of Pokémon Bank. Extremely supportive of her sister but tends to take the “idgaf” road when it comes to admin shenanigans. Lanette shares everything with her. (Everything.) 

Character Notes: - ORAS version. Short hair. Cute dress. Don’t talk to her about that one time she wore pigtails. Collects plush pokémon. - Most people say Bill is the leader of the admins but actually think Lanette is. - Is the Team Mom. - Routinely keeps Bill from doing stupid things (except for that one time that they’re still working through). - Was roped into being the editor of the blog because someone had to do it. - Is perfectly aware that she more enables Bill than stops him from doing stupid things. - Is still, like, all of his impulse control and half of the impulse control of the other admins. - All of this, and she’s disorganized af. Her lab is a disaster. It’s only by Bill’s own will that his lab isn’t right now, now that she’s basically living at the Sea Cottage. - Bill might have invented the storage system, but she’s the one who gave it a GUI, hammered out most of its flaws, and beat the entire concept of user-friendliness into its inventor’s head until he stopped putting text command boxes on everything. - Likes cooking and loves sweets. Will fight you for cake. - Was at one point a coordinator and thus has an excellent eye for making things that are functional but also hella pretty. Earned almost all of the Hoenn ribbons before calling it a day. And she gave it up not because she wasn’t good at it but instead because she got really hella fed up with the culture surrounding contests at the time. - Still participates in Fallarbor contests now and then, just for fun. - Was apparently the one who reached out to Bill in the first place, rather than the other way around. That is to say, Bill was “the weird ghost kid” in Celadon University’s library until Lanette finally popped up and said, “Hi. You’re my friend now.” And they’ve been together ever since. - Bill routinely says the above event was seven years ago. This was actually when they were both thirteen. - Not-so-secretly loves cute, sparkly things, especially if they can kick your ass. (See: Princess Evening Glimmer of Ponytaville Castle.) - Not-so-secretly likes Steven Stone, Milo, and practically every other man (and some women) who’s cute and capable of holding their own in battling. (Much to Bill’s chagrin.) - Is perfectly aware that Bill not-so-secretly has a thing for her and thinks it’s adorable. Cares pretty deeply about him, at least as a friend, and absolutely wants to see him happy ... which is really why she’s often quick to shoot down his more reckless ideas. - Unironically likes romance movies and mysteries. Watches Groovy Froo (Scooby Doo but with a furfrou).

#from the mun #about the author #about the editor #resources

[lookbluesoup]

Fallout OC Interview

@robobrainmurdermysterytheatre and @quinndecker214 tagged me to do this LITERAL AGES ago! Thanks for this and IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG it got lost in my drafts I hope it was worth the wait //shot I TAG @nuclearvessel @ronqueesha @tarberrymentats @wild-w4steland-snip3r @daddyfuckinlonglegs @saltsealed @thewookieruns No pressure!!

Choose an OC.

Answer them as that OC.

Tag 5 people to do the same.

1. What is your name? Nathaniel Christian Wright. Maiden name Ronan, if, aha, you like fun-facts.

2. How old are you? You know I lost count somewhere after 240?

3. What do you look like?

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now? I was born a good ways South of here, spent most of my childhood there. Moved to Boston... before the War. Now I stay with Piper in Diamond City between work, got an infield view and everything! Never would have bet on that the day I woke up in the Vault. I guess life’s funny, hunh? I - ...I’m glad to be there.

5. What was your childhood like? Oh, nothing special, really. My Pa was ex-military, a chaplain. Ma stayed home to tend the house, and raise rambunctious sons. She was - good. I wonder sometimes whether she’d be proud of me, out here.

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? Well, I am K i n g of the Castle - a-hem, I mean, General. Yeah, just General. (//Ronnie distantly yells something about the joke not being funny the 80th time)

[[There are rumors of Nate being a leading Railroad Agent, but he absolutely would not admit to that in a casual interview xD]]

7. Tell me about your best friend. Deacon? Hah! What can’t I tell you about him! He’s got a two-dozen kids. Twelve wives. One’s a ghoul. He’s also a synth, but you didn’t hear that from me. Has an extra toe on his left foot. Those sunglasses aren’t a fashion statement, they’re glued to his face. Horrible accident, really. Inoperable. He can speak five languages, including Zetan. I swear, it’s all true! But, ah. He’s a good friend. Better than he knows.

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them! My son, Shaun, lives here at the Castle. I wish I could bring him to Diamond City, let him make friends with the other kids, try to give him something of the life he might’ve had before the War. But I’ve got enemies. The Minutemen have enemies. Comes with the job. It’s safer for Shaun to be here, out of the limelight. And also, you know, with a barracks full of guns ready at a minute’s notice if there’s trouble. My men are family, too. Hell, I feel closer to the people here than I did most of my own blood in the old world. There’s also my butler, Codsworth. And Natalie, Piper’s little sister - well, she may as well be my little sister, too. But hey, keep that one off the record. Nat’d never forgive me.

9. What about a partner or partners? I’m a happily tethered man, bound for life to one kickass reporter, Mrs. Wright. You may have heard of her. 

10. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? [Nate seems more guarded] Yeah, I know them. That graveyard across the channel used to be their airship. I wish it had ended differently, but... well, war never changes.

11. Who are your enemies, and why? I suppose that’s a natural follow-up question. Well, most of the Raider gangs will attack on sight. Gunners, too. But we’ve managed to clear a pretty safe stretch between major towns over the past year. Since the Minutemen have established a pro-synth stance, more than a few settlements shut their doors on us. Lost a fair number of volunteers. But no violence so far. Other than that... the remnants of Brotherhood here aren’t fond of me, personally. Why? We parted on bad terms. Lets just - leave it at that. Anyone else out here can tell you the story. There are Institute survivors, too. We tried to get as many noncombatants out as we could the day it fell, but it was a battle. It was messy. A lot haven’t forgiven me for turning on them. [sighs] ...Can you blame them? The Minutemen have kept a running list of Courser sightings since then. So many still aren’t accounted for. Keeps me up at night, sometimes.  

12. What about The Enclave? I’ve heard rumors. None of them good. 13. How do you feel about Super Mutants? Tough bastards. I wish we could help them. I know they don’t all go crazy, and Virgil was making progress on a cure. But I haven’t seen him in years. We’re not - really on speaking terms.

14. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? More than once, and never unscathed. Not bragging! It’s the truth. Take a look at this, [he rolls back his sleeve to show a massive scar running over his upper arm] Piper and I got pinned down, lizard gutted me and nearly lost me an arm. Also? Ruined my best flannel shirt.

15. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? Bunker Hill. What a hellscape. Between the Railroad and the Institute, things were hot enough. But somehow the Brotherhood found out, too. It’s a wonder Bunker Hill wasn’t razed to the ground. My Courser escort was killed in a Railroad ambush and the synths we were after escaped. I barely got out alive.

[[Nate actually killed X4-18 and helped the synths escape, but that’s another Railroad secret :’D]] 16. Do you like fighting? No. But I’ll do what I have to to stay alive and protect the people I care about. 17. What’s your weapon of choice? A modified radium rifle. I was a sniper back in my army days, it’s what I’m trained in. But if the fight does get close, this gun’s versatile enough to still be useful. Wish my loadout back in Anchorage did that. I’m fond of the laser musket, too - but you only get one shot, and then everyone will know exactly where you are. Strategically it’s too limited.

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) My winning charm, of course! [winks] And trekking all over the Commonwealth keeps me fit for when folks aren’t so interested in talking. Piper keeps the luck for both of us. I’m - pretty sure I’m cursed, actually.

S(6) P(7) E(8) C(11) I(7) A(5) L(2)

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? I suppose I should be grateful, really. If not for the Vaults, I’d have died two centuries ago. I’d never have met Piper, or taught Shaun to play baseball. None of this... none of this at all would have happened. [grimaces] Don’t get me wrong. Vault-tec was fucking insane. The things they did to people in some of those Vaults-? I was uncharacteristically lucky. There’s a reason they call me the Sole Survivor, and it’s not from winning some tv game show about living on an island.

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? My Pip-Boy has a Geiger counter built in so I can avoid the worst of it. But sometimes it can’t be helped. I always keep Rad-Away and Rad-X on hand. Other than that, I bring the old vault suit to wear under my clothes if I know exposure’s inevitable. It helps a little. Piper likes to tease me about that, but somehow I think she prefers me with hair and less than six limbs. Plus, my ass looks great in blue. Her words. Not mine. Yes, you can quote that.

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter? The radstags, no doubt! [motions to Legs Washington] Look at those little extra arms wiggling around. Adorable.

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? Yao guais. They are way too stealthy for something that big. I dunno what they’re eating up in Maine, but Far Harbor was full of them. Big, grumpy ones. And look, have you ever tried to outrun a bear? Don’t.

23. How do you feel about robots? I like the ones that aren’t shooting at me! Codsworth and Ada are friends. Isabel’s eyebot, Sparks? Adorable. I even got this hat from an old Sentry named Ironsides. Those Rust Devils and their junk bots though? I try not to fight them without a lot of backup. Got ambushed by a Succubus once. Not a good time. At all.

24. How many caps do you have on you right now? Why, you planning to rob me? Kidding. About 200, which is a lot for me generally speaking.

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? [Suddenly excited] Wait, does Sunset Sarsaparilla still exist?

26. Do you do chems? Aside from Med-X when I’ve been shot? Not if I can help it.

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? Not as often as in the beginning, but it does happen sometimes. I’ll have dreams where I’m back in my old life, and it’s always... disorienting.

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? There are - a lot. I’ll admit it. Sometimes I wonder, if I’d only just - hm... Well. To be honest, I’ve been trying not to linger so much on what I’ve done wrong, and focus on what I can do right for the future instead. Piper taught me that.

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?  I’ll always be proud to call myself Mr. Wright. If I can be half the man Piper tells me I am, I’ll consider it a life well lived.

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? Geeze, you could give my wife a run for her money with a loaded question like that! I want... a future where folks don’t have to be afraid of monsters coming after them in the night. I want synths to have a fair chance at living their own lives, as who they are, without pretending. I want Shaun to - be able to grow up. For myself? Everything I need is right here already.

#text #long post #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout oc interview #nate ronan #screenshot

[grapesodatozier]

okay i know you aren't taking fic requests rn but when you ARE maybe a hanzier propsal fic please? just some soft fluffy shot cause the hanzier tag is basically always empty. also smut somewhere in there ic you're feeling generous hehe

this genuinely too forever omg, sorry about that!! but i hope you like it!! this is my first time ever writing hanzier and i had sm fun with it, thank you for the request!!

words: 3,173

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

The moment Mike decided to propose, he knew he was going all out. People like Richie didn’t come around very often, and neither did a love like theirs. Richie was his best friend and the love of his life - Mike was gonna do this right.

The night started with dinner and seeing their favorite comedian perform. (Although Richie was quick to protest that he was only Richie’s favorite, as, “I’m your favorite comedian, Mikey!”). By the time they were sitting outside eating ice cream together, Richie was resting his head on Mike’s shoulder and smiling up at him. “Tonight’s been amazing. You sure know how to treat a lady, Mr. Hanlon.”

Mike smiled and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s dark curls. “Night’s still young.”

Richie pulled back and narrowed his eyes at Mike, a mischievous smile curling his lips. “Did you have something in mind, Michael?”

Mike shrugged in feigned nonchalance. “You’ll see.”

A minute later an Uber picked them up, and Mike could see Richie bouncing with excitement; he loved a surprise. As they wound through the New York City streets, Mike admired the way the lights glinted off Richie’s glasses, shined in his eyes, made his hair glow softly with a palette of neon colors. Mike thanked the driver and took Richie’s hand as they arrived at their destination. 

“You just can’t stay away from work, can you?” Richie teased as he sized up the museum - the American Museum of Natural History, to be specific. Mike worked there as an archivist, and he knew how much Richie loved seeing all of the exhibits, especially the dinosaurs. He had at least three dinosaur plush toys that Mike had bought for him, and he treasured them all dearly. Also, he was a big Night at the Museum fan.

Mike chuckled. “I may have talked the night watch into letting me bring you on an after hours tour.” Richie’s eyes widened adorably. Mike couldn’t help but pull him in by the waist and kiss his nose. “So,” he said as he began leading Richie forward, “what do you want to see first?”

“Oh, you know I wanna see the dinosaurs without all those kids hogging up all the space.” Mike barked out a laugh as he held the door for Richie.

“Yeah, because a six-foot-four man can’t see over a couple of children.”

“They come in droves and you know it!”

The two walked around the exhibit hand in hand, their footsteps echoing through the empty, cavernous halls as they travelled from blurb to picture to blurb. The lights were on, but it was still surreal without the hustle and bustle. “I feel like it’s gonna come alive and chase us,” Richie remarked as they stood under the t-rex skeleton.

“I’ll protect you if it does.” Mike pressed a few kisses to Richie’s cheek, pulling him into his arms.

Richie hummed and pulled Mike in for a kiss, their lips moving sweetly together. “The benefits of dating a beefcake.”

Mike chuckled again and pulled Richie along. “Come on, there’s something this beefcake wants you to see.”

“God, there’s more?” Richie balked. “Is it strippers? Is it strippers dressed like Teddy Roosevelt? Is it an erotic but heartfelt dance between two men dressed like the Roman and the cowboy from the movie?”

Mike shook his head at his boyfriend, a smirk on his lips. “No, but keep guessing, you’re giving me good ideas for next time.” Richie was happy to provide him more content, his guesses becoming raunchier and more ridiculous as they went. The two were nearly doubled over with laughter by the time they made it to the real surprise. Mike took advantage of how distracted Richie was to pull him past the heavy doors into the darkened room.

“Okay, now this is spooky,” Richie joked as the door closed, leaving them in darkness. Mike slipped his hand out of Richie’s, dropping to one knee and reaching inside his pocket as silently as possible. “Mike?” As soon as his name left Richie’s lips, the projector came to life, spattering the ceiling with stars that illuminated the room. Richie cursed in awe under his breath. His eyes were too preoccupied with the galaxies and planets above him to notice Mike kneeling in front of him, but Mike let him take it all in first; as much as Richie loved dinosaurs, Mike knew he could lie for hours looking at the planetarium display. Mike watched the smile spread across his face, his heart exploding. Finally, Richie looked for Mike, and the surprise on his face when he found him with a little box in his hand was precious. “Oh shit,” he muttered, that smile still lighting up is face as his eyes went wide.

“Rich, you’re my best friend,” Mike started.

“And you’re mine,” Richie breathed dreamily, his hand to his chest.

“Rich,” Mike chuckled pointedly.

“Right, shutting up now, sorry.”

Mike beamed up at him before continuing. “You’re my best friend, and the love of my life. And everything that happens from now on, I want to happen with you. You always make me smile, you make sure I laugh every day, even when I don’t think I can. I wanna make you laugh every day for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to go a day without seeing that smile.” Mike smiled slyly and glanced up at the display on the ceiling before saying, “You’re my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” Richie chuckled, his voice breathy and eyes glistening. “So, Richie Tozier, light of my life, will you marry me?”

Richie was on his knees kissing Mike almost before he even got the question out. “Hell yeah I’ll fucking marry you,” he murmured against Mike’s smiling lips. “I’m gonna marry the shit out of you, Michael Hanlon. Gonna let you make an honest man out of me.”

“Can you let me get this ring on your finger first?” Mike giggled.

“Ooh, right, the bling! Lay it on me, baby.” He held out his hand dramatically, but he was attacking Mike’s neck with kisses before he even began sliding the ring on. He finally managed to get it secured on his finger before pocketing the box and bringing Richie’s knuckles to his lips. They both took a moment to admire the way it looked before meeting each other’s eye with matching smiles. “I love you,” Richie said softly.

Mike’s heart bloomed with warmth. “I love you, too. So, so much.” They were both smiling as their lips met again, kissing each other slowly, purposefully. Mike would never get tired of the way their lips moved together, or the way Richie impatiently nipped at Mike’s lower lip. Mike gently laid his fiance on the floor. Richie moaned appreciatively as Mike deepened the kiss, making Mike groan in turn; as much fun as it was to tease him, Richie made the prettiest noises when he got what he wanted. “Good boy,” Mike murmured lowly when Richie spread his legs for him. He smirked at the whine Richie let out when Mike rolled his hips down against his.

“You gonna fuck me in a planetarium?” His voice was breathy and amused, his eyes glinting with excitement. His shiny, kiss-pink lips were too tempting, and Mike just had to kiss them, humming in response.

“You want that, baby?” Mike asked. He wound his fingers into Richie’s hair.

“Fuck, please,” Richie whimpered, his voice high as Mike tugged playfully on his curls.

Mike kissed Richie deeply once more before guiding him to sit up and helping him get his clothes off. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Mike sighed reverently, kissing over Richie’s exposed skin. He grinned and nuzzled his face affectionately into Richie’s neck. “I’ve got the most gorgeous fiance in the world.”

“I like the sound of that.” Richie grinned as he placed his lips against Mike’s. Mike sat back and stripped himself, chuckling at the hungry way Richie watched him, lounging on the floor. Mike imagined he had a similar look on his face as he took in Richie’s body, his torso and limbs and his half hard cock, all on display for him. It had warmth spreading through his entire body, pulling him like a magnet to Richie. He ran his hands over Richie’s thighs for a moment, taking a second to pause and admire the view.“Kinda romantic, making love under the stars,” Richie mused as Mike retrieved a condom and a packet of lube from his pockets. 

“Well I did just propose to you, so yeah, romance was kind of the goal,” Mike winked.

“Damn, and people think I’m the smartass.” Mike shook his head and brought his lips to Richie’s again. He began kissing over his jaw, taking his time as he ran his fingertips over Richie’s skin. Despite the banter, there was an electricity in the air, one that ignited so easily between the two of them. Simultaneously, Mike sucked on Richie’s weak spot along his neck and brushed his fingertips over the head of Richie’s now fully hard cock. Richie gasped and grabbed Mike’s shoulders. “Wait,” he panted. Mike pulled back and caressed his face. “People can’t… you know… hear us, can they?”

Mike smirked slowly. “What’s wrong, baby? You don’t think you can keep quiet?” 

“You know I can’t.” Richie bit his lip and lowered his eyes. It would never stop surprising Mike how bashful such a boisterous person could get, but he loved it all the same, loved seeing him melt and blush beneath him.

“God, I can’t wait to hear you.” Mike kissed down his neck and ran his hands over his thighs, loving the way he squirmed. “You’re so beautiful. Gonna open you up now, okay? Make sure you’re nice and ready for me, wanna make it so good for you, baby.” He kissed down Richie’s chest, smirking to himself as he whined.

“Please no, you fucked me like six hours ago, I’m ready.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.” Which was true, but he was also definitely doing it to hear Richie beg. But also to treat him, to show him how much he loved him and how lucky Mike was to have him. He sat back and covered his fingers in lube, spreading it around until it was warm. Then he lay between Richie’s open legs and began pressing deep kisses to the inside of his thighs as he circled his fingers around Richie’s entrance. It already had Richie squirming, begging for more.

“Please,” he whined. “Please, baby, want you so bad.” Mike smirked against Richie’s skin and slowly pressed one of his fingers in. It slid in with ease, and Mike smoothly pumped in and out of him while he left marks all over his thighs. He took his time, making sure to curve his finger just right to have Richie panting. Soon enough he began rocking his hips. “Mikey, please, please give me more, I can take it.”

Mike looked up at him, pleased to find his cheeks and chest already flushed pink. He smiled sweetly at him before pressing a few more kisses to his thighs. He sat up a bit then and licked a teasing stripe up Richie’s cock before kissing up his stomach. The gasp and subsequent groan Richie let out had Mike chuckling against his collarbones. He brought his lips to Richie’s as he slid a second finger inside of him. He really did seem to be ready, but Mike was enjoying drawing it out. As he pulled back to admire the view of Richie spread out beneath him, he was honestly impressed with himself for not sliding into him right then and there. He indulged Richie, who was whining and squirming for more, with a third finger. This one went it with a bit less ease than the first two, but it had Richie sighing in a way that had Mike throbbing. “Yes,” Richie moaned. “Fuck, feels so good. Can’t wait for your cock, baby, please.” 

Mike kissed along Richie’s throat. “Just a little bit longer, baby. Gonna fill you up so good, I promise, gonna make it so good for you.”

“I love you.” Richie nuzzled his face into Mike’s, making him chuckle. His chest felt so warm, so full; Richie always made him so happy.

“I love you, too, honey,” he cooed before pressing his lips to Richie’s. He thrust in and out of him, savoring the way he clenched and loosened around his fingers. He slid in just so, just enough and at just the right angle that made Richie’s head fall back. Mike smiled to himself; this was one of his favorite things, watching Richie give into the ecstasy Mike made him feel. He massaged that sensitive spot slowly but deeply, making his fiance make the prettiest sounds. He admired the sharp angle of his jaw, the long column of his neck, the mess of curls splayed around his head. Richie was so beautiful, and Mike almost couldn’t believe how lucky he was to know that he got to make Richie feel like this for the rest of his life.

Richie ran his hands up to Mike’s shoulders then, holding on. And when he looked up, his blue eyes were hooded, his pupils blown wide and starry. “Mikey,” he moaned, “please, need you.” 

Mike kissed him deeply, languidly, taking his time, then pulled back with a whispered, “I’ve got you.” As he sat back to tear open the condom and roll it on, Richie kept his hands on him, his fingertips grazing over Mike’s skin. It made Mike absolutely glow, the way Richie longed to keep touching him, to be connected. Mike always wanted to be connected to him. He spread a generous amount of lube over his cock and lined himself up with Richie. With a nod from Richie, he began pressing in, slowly, watching every expression that danced across Richie’s face. He looked so pretty with his brow furrowed, his lips open in a small o shape, and the way he looked up at Mike and reach for him had him dizzy with love. Mike took his hand and kissed his palm, his wrist, his fingertips. And as he bottomed out, he intertwined their fingers, letting Richie hold onto him. 

“Baby,” Richie moaned, his voice like honey. “Please.” Mike pressed one last kiss to Richie’s knuckles before pulling his hips back and slowly pushing them forward again. Richie felt amazing around him; he loved how intimate this was, how he could feel every movement Richie made, hear every sound that fell from his lips. “Yes,” Richie encouraged, “fuck, so good.” His eyes were glassy and full of love as he met Mike’s gaze and told him, “You are the most beautiful person in the world.” With a smile, he added, “How’d I get the hottest fucking guy to propose to me?”

“I don’t know,” Mike grinned, “how’d I get the most amazing person in the world to say yes?” He rocked his hips, making Richie moan.

“Fuck, that, that’s how.” He smiled playfully. “That cock could get me to do anything.”

Mike chuckled and pressed his lips to Richie’s, rolling his hips slowly. He swallowed Richie’s low moans as he pressed into him, as deep as he could. Richie’s hands roamed over his skin, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. Mike ran his fingers through Richie’s hair. There was an energy flowing through both of them, steady, thrumming, in tune. Mike picked up the pace of his thrusts, pleasure washing over both of them. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good,” Richie panted. “You make me feel so good, take such good care of me.”

Mike buried his face in Richie’s neck, skin warm and buzzing with joy and adoration. “Nothing makes me happier than you do,” he professed into Richie’s skin, following his words with kisses.

“God, I love you.” Richie’s voice was already sounding wrecked as he began rolling his hips into Mike’s. Mike changed the angle a bit, began thrusting harder. It had Richie crying out and clinging to him. It was the most amazing feeling in the world, and a reminder that he never wanted to let Richie go. He kept at it, the pleasure building, warm and throbbing, wrapping around them. All the stars and planets surrounding them, and Richie was the only thing Mike wanted to look at. Richie always shined. Mike loved that about him, loved how they brought out one another’s glow, how it felt like they were the only two people in the world when they were together. He was especially glowing now, his skin going dewy under the lights, a soft smile on his lips. He pulled Mike down against him with a moan of his name. Mike kissed Richie’s hair, his shoulder, wherever he could, chasing down that pleasure. Richie bit down on Mike’s shoulder as his moans turned to shouts, muffling his cries. With Mike pressed against him, Richie could slide his cock between their stomachs, and soon both of them were slick with his precome. Mike loved it, loved being inside of Richie and having Richie all over him, all of his limbs wrapped around Mike, his teeth sinking into his skin. “Mike, baby, it’s so good.” Richie whined. “Getting close, fuck.”

“I’ve got you,” Mike assured him with a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “You can let go, baby, I’m here.” He could feel that his own release was coming soon, building and building inside of him. “I’m with you.”

“God, please fill me up, please.” 

And that was all it took, those words in Richie’s voice, to send Mike over the edge. He buried his face in Richie’s hair as he came, the feeling of Richie clenching around him making him tremble from the intensity. Richie held Mike tight and cried out as he finished a moment later, covering them both with his come. Mike loved it. As soon as he caught his breath, his lips were all over Richie, his hands soothing over his sides before he gently, slowly pulled out and tied off the condom.

“Fuck,” Richie chuckled breathlessly. “That was amazing… but uh, how are the maintenance guys gonna feel about cleaning my come off the carpet?”

Mike gave Richie a wicked smile before dipping his head down and kissing down Richie’s chest. He took his time licking Richie clean, savoring it, savoring the feeling of Richie’s eyes on him. Then, once Richie was clean, he swiped his fingers through the bit of come on his own stomach and sucked those clean as well. 

“God damn, I hit the fucking jackpot,” Richie whispered in awe. “I’m trying to think of a ‘blast off’ pun, but you just blew my mind.”

Mike giggled and snuggled into him, kissing his cheek. Then, he murmured in his ear, “You’re out of this world.”

Richie looked at him with wide eyes. “Marry me?”

They were both still giggling as their lips met.

taglist: @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @reddie4thesinbin @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @reddie-for-anything@itfandomprompts @billbenbev

#hanzier #notsfw

[iliveonmylaptop]

Disappeared

(In which my I wish my DM took obvious plot hooks so I could play my secondary character oh well guess I’ll do it myself)

To say the heist went off smoothly would be a blatant lie, but it was actually successful in the very least so they couldn’t do too much complaining about it in the end. 

One tense, waterlogged night later, and Amir had his mech and his anti-scrying necklace, Navryn had a new charm to stave off her illness a little while longer, and the rest of them had some new bruises and a good amount of money.

Now the night later, Amir had bid them farewell and vanished to supposedly start avoiding Ravenwatch. Meanwhile, Gilther had nabbed a small amount of funds from the Bank of Miry and practically commandeered a nearby tavern to throw an impromptu party to the success of their mission. 

That’s Gilther for you, Alwin figured.

The others had joined in, though Nav had bowed out early to retreat to her room in the inn they were staying in. Alwin suspected that she was still feeling the effects from such a high-intensity adventure. She’d been coughing a lot more in the past few hours, waving off his concern when he asked with just a weak smile. So he had let it go. 

Alwin wasn’t really a party person in general, but tonight was going especially poorly for him. He still hadn’t had the chance to meditate yet and was nursing a nice new scar on his upper left arm; courtesy of a Child of Athos’s lucky dagger strike. So here he was. Outside the festivities, by himself. As usual. 

It was dark and cool out. The sun had set several hours ago and the taverns lights were still shining brightly, thanks to the party. Alwin sighed, resting against the stone blocks that made up the wall behind him. He was definitely feeling last nights exertions. His whole body ached with a low ambient pain and he had that exhausted swirl behind his eyes that marked him being all out of spells for the moment. 

He took one last glance at the tavern, smiled tiredly, and pushed off the wall. Maybe a walk would clear his head. 

Tent Town was quiet, even for this time of night. Alwin breathed in deeply, taking in the sour stench of misery wafting below the cooler tones of the salt air. Nethis was a city like any other. Still, something about it felt… off. It was so crowded with people, overflowing with poverty and general unrest. The city seemed to press in on him, almost suffocating in its size. It’d been a long time since he’d been this anxious about his surroundings. 

Maybe it was his upbringing talking. Trees aren’t nearly as noisy as people.

Alwin paused at the end of a row of tents, rolling his shoulders and wincing. Damn. Maybe walking wasn’t the best choice when he was still this tired. He instinctively went to tug on his bracers, getting a flicker of surprise and then irritation when he remembered they weren’t there.

He wasn’t used to roaming around without his armor on. But it had gotten soaked on the previous mission and it needed some drying out in his room before he could re-treat the leather and be able to wear it again. 

Alwin sighed again, claiming a seat on a nearby stump. He was being ridiculous, wasn’t he. Oh well. 

“Got anything to say?” he murmured, glancing up at the moon. It was a mere sliver in the sky at this stage, forcing his night vision to work for every foot of sight he got. “Am I still on track for you, Goddess? Are heists in your grand cosmic plan?”

The moon, predictably, did not reply. Alwin laughed, a soft huff in the still air. “Didn’t think so.”

“You’re out late.”

Alwin flinched with a full body motion, spinning in his seat with hands instinctively raised. What the fuck…?

Amir stepped out of the shadows, eyebrow raised. Alwin blinked and relaxed a hair, bringing a hand over his chest.

“Damn, you scared the living stars out of me,” he said. He shook his head, squinting back at the thief. “Kinda rude, actually. Weren’t you supposed to have scampered off with your prize?”

Amir chuckled. He tugged at a cord beneath his hood, giving a silver glimpse of the charm they’d stolen for him. 

“I have a passage on a ship leaving in an hour or so. My cargo is already on board, ready for some insurance. Ravenwatch won’t be finding me anytime soon with this, anyways.”

Alwin nodded, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his eyes. Something was buzzing in the back of his head, an old suspicion to not trust any thieves guilds. Amir seemed… alright, though. He hadn’t done anything super shady so far, and he was doing his best to get away from Ravenwatch, something Alwin could appreciate at the very least. 

“So, other than doing your best to put our party’s rogue to shame with your sneaking skills, what are you doing out here?”

Amir smirked, casually claiming a seat next to him. 

“I have to wait somewhere, don’t I?” He said while Alwin wondered if it would be overly rude to shift away. “Besides, I wanted to thank you.”

Alwin snorted, fiddling with his gloves. “Yeah you already did that. The gold is nice.”

“I meant you, specifically.”

Alwin paused, giving him a steady look as his instincts sang in warning. Amir’s face was still mostly hidden in the shadows of his hood, making his face hard to read at this angle. 

“Why?” He asked flatly. “You didn’t seem so thrilled about the rest of us tagging on. You only wanted Thora; for the heavy lifting. What makes me so special in your eyes all of a sudden?”

“That is a question, isn’t it,” Amir mused. “Who are you, Alwin? The wandering vagabond? A rogue cleric on a mission from his goddess, as you claim?” His voice dropped. “Or are the rumors true?”

Alwin flicked his eyes around them. It was quiet, with no one else in sight. This was… not great. He curled his fingers against the rough wood, missing his staff and wishing for maybe an extra five or six spell slots. 

“What rumors, exactly?” He finally said. Amir seemed to smile at his tight tone, a glimmer of white teeth peeking out from the shadows. 

“I may not be part of Ravenwatch anymore, but they do deal in information. Now imagine my surprise when some old contacts had a significant amount of information on you. You’re a long way from home, te’krula.”

Alwin stood up, heart hammering. He knew it this was foolish he knew people would know why didn’t his party take him seriously-

“This conversation is over,” he snapped. His hands were shaking from nervous energy, and he shoved it down. 

“No, I don’t think it is,” Amir said, soft. Alwin snarled as Amir’s hand shot out, grabbing his elbow. He whirled on him, already summoning a handful of arcane flames. 

“Don’t even think about it you piece of- ” Alwin gasped, stumbling momentarily as a sharp pain bloomed in his rib cage where Amir had buried a needle-like dagger in a lightning-quick movement. 

Amir tried to back up after his strike, but Alwin grabbed a handful of his cloak as leverage to punch him directly in the face with his flaming hand. The thief stumbled backwards with a curse, hand immediately going to the seared flesh across his cheekbone. Alwin yanked out the dagger after a moment, barely even wincing at the trickle of blood. He threw it aside with a contemptuous motion, the metal disappearing into the scraggly grass. 

“I’m not gonna give you a second shot, asshole,” Alwin spat. He reached for his magic, the beginnings of thorns growing out from the ground beneath his feet. His hands trembled, which he ignored.

And Amir- laughed. 

“I don’t need a second shot.” He wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, grinning. “The first was enough.”

A wave of dizziness spun over Alwin and his eyes went wide in realization. The trembling in his hands stilled, along with the rest of the movement in his body.

“Fuck,” he rasped, swaying as his joints and muscles locked up. “What the fuck- did…”

“A paralytic poison,” Amir said, watching Alwin struggle uselessly against his own body with a distinct amount of satisfied interest. “ Don’t worry- it won’t kill you. It’s not strong enough to stop your heart.”

Breathing was hard, but it was all he could focus on as his body stopped answering to him. Alwin screamed internally as his jaw locked up with the rest of him, stopping the verbal component needed for his spell-casting. The vines shriveled away, disappearing with the last of his magical capabilities. 

He collapsed. 

I knew it, his frantic thoughts said, swirling around in his frozen head. I knew it I knew it I knew this would happen- 

Amir knelt next to him, cocking his head curiously. 

“I’m always surprised by how quickly that poison takes effect. Still,” he brushed a lock of hair out of Alwin’s face, calmly meeting his furious gaze. “Can’t be too careful when dealing with spellcasters. Especially not ones of… your caliber,” he chuckled. 

Fuck you, Alwin wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled growl. The instinctive terror of once again being helpless, flat on his back, burned into rage at Amir, at the world, at himself for once again letting his guard down when he had just started thinking that maybe he’d be ok, that just maybe he’d finally found some people he could stay with. But he couldn’t say it- just stare upwards at the man who was casually going to take it away. Amir seemed to get the message anyway. 

“You’re probably wondering what this is about,” the thief continued. He was currently rummaging through his bag, pulling out some loops of rope and something leather that Alwin couldn’t make out, frozen on the damp grass as he was. “To put it simply- you’re my insurance.” A firm hand pushed him on to his side, so Amir could start the process of binding his hands behind his back. “You’re worth a lot in certain circles. Alive, again, so don’t think that I went through all this trouble just to kill you.”

Alwin’s breath hissed through his teeth, unable to answer- not that he wanted to at this point. Amir only hummed from where he was, pulling the ropes tight with practiced ease. 

“Someone in Athos will be very happy to have the sole heir to Terranith at their disposal,” Amir said. He finished on Alwin’s wrists, moving up to his shoulders. Alwin shuddered as the rope looped around his chest, the act of breathing starting to escape him as the poison ran its course. Amir appeared to notice and paused as Alwin’s vision starting swimming into black.

He patted his captive’s shoulder, clicking his tongue sympathetically. “But that will be your problem- not mine.”

Alwin finally let go, world fading into darkness, and he knew no more.

--------

So the storyteller in me is screeching right now.

 Also- I write these for me. But if even one person enjoys reading these, I’ll continue posting them here on tumblr. (My Burn Scars comp seems to have gotten deleted? I guess I’ll have to repost the whole thing.)

Hey if you want more Alwin and the Inhumans stuff, how about leaving a like or a reblog? (Or an ask I talk way too much about everything and will yell at you for like an hour about it)

#my stuff #the inhumans #alwin #ocs #fanfic #dnd