#but my moon and his moon and sliver also got some stuff going on

[tenspontaneite]

what the hell is 3sig+?

it’s a very obscure series of characters and Google is not helping. Seems to be connected to you?

Lmao yes. it's a Rain World crossover au between my Assembly and @ressioo 's Solar Flare AUs that started as crack and then grew extreme legs. Named thus because it begins with two of my Sigs' selflings explosively and accidentally entering Res' SF universe and meeting his Sig (who we call peepaw for his old man energy). Hence, 3 Sigs. And then +, because it really grew from there.

At this point, I consider it a fairly canon post-story to Assembly, even though it's of high octane crack origin, because I'm way too emotionally attached at this point to do otherwise.

[cephalofrog]

been playing rain world and thinking about saint again recently

full rain world spoilers below

I hate the "saint is the triple affirmative" interpretation. hate even more how it appears to have become the accepted truth in the fandom

first off, my dislike for this interpretation is not logical. it isn't something I can be convinced out of using canon evidence, because my reason for not interpreting the story this way is not evidence-based, it's because I don't find it to be a satisfying conclusion to the entire story of rain world.

but here's some rambling about logical reasons why it doesn't make sense anyway

if saint was created as the triple affirmative by sliver, that makes them extremely old - they came into existence LONG before spearmaster's campaign even started. if they came into existence with the purpose of ascending iterators, they sure took a long time to ascend any iterators - like okay, travel time and whatever, but you'd think they'd get at least one or two more before all the iterator comms break down entirely post-spearmaster. SM and hunter managed to get from SRS and NSH to the pebbs/moon area pretty quickly.

they also have fur, which seems to be an adaptation for the cold judging by the lizards in the campaign, despite the world not being cold at the point at which they were created. this could be easily explained by sliver just being very forward-thinking, but...

if sliver created saint, their entire triple affirmative thing comes across as incredibly thoughtless, which imo contrasts with sliver being forward-thinking enough to make saint immune to cold. like they finally created the magical rat that will ascend them all but didn't even think to send out a message beforehand like "hey guys I'm trying something new if I send out the triple affirmative and die right after this it worked and you should be visited by a flying green dude with an ascension beam at some point in the future"

there's also the thing of... wait so how does this whole iterator ascension work again? cause saint's timeline loops. after they ascend, they end up back in sky islands, with the iterators back where they were. this could be explained by "later playthrough loops aren't canon and pebbs and moon are ascended if you got em" but there's literally a specific gameplay mechanic - carrying stuff in your stomach between campaigns - meant to make it clear that the campaign is a loop.

anyway. the real reason I hate the theory isn't related to any of this - it's that it absolutely destroys pebbles and moon's story, thematically speaking.

sliver of straw's triple affirmative/death is a random event that could mean basically anything. the futility pebbles felt around trying to solve the great problem caused him to assign meaning to sliver's death that wasn't necessarily there - they found the solution, and it was self-destruction. that's what they were trying to tell everyone. it wasn't a random event, the triple affirmative was real. one of the bugs in the maze found the way out, and he's going to prove it to everyone by following them and escaping.

and that's what leads to the events of the main story. this random event - this horrible tragedy, the death of someone who seemed to mean so much to so many people - was assigned meaning by someone desperate to prove that his entire existence, and the existences of everyone around him, are not futile. the ancients created the iterators without knowing whether the answer to the great problem could ever be found, and this is the result of that.

a nihilistic, hopeless person, abandoned by his creators to work forever on an unsolvable problem, assigns meaning to a random tragedy, and tunnel visions on what he has to believe is what he's been looking for - because it is an unimaginable understatement to say that the alternative would be worse than death. and then, in his self-destructive desperation, he kills his sibling* and dooms himself to the slowest, most painful death imaginable. this is the legacy of the ancients' dead society, the result of all of their stupid ideals and obsession with karmic perfection. (*as far as he knows)

but saint being the triple affirmative undermines all of that. not only does it make sliver's death less of a tragedy and more of a noble sacrifice - like yeah, sure, they were loved, but solving the great problem was far more important - but it also makes pebbles look less desperate and more just kinda stupid. like you thought that the solution was self-destruction? nah, it's a magical flying rat. in this version of the story, pebbles wasn't striving for something that didn't exist, he was just not smart enough to figure out the real solution.

even outside of canon evidence, that sucks. it causes pebbles' story to go from being about how you should value the people around you over the impossible striving that life always seems to expect from you or you're gonna end up hurting them and yourself to how you should just be smarter to find the right solution to all of your problems.

anyway as for my own interpretation of saint, I think that the campaign is just a representation of what it's like to be an echo. reliving the moments that led up to your failed ascension over and over, reaching maximum karma and gaining superpowers because you're just that karmically pure - you are a saint, after all - and then letting your ego consume you at the crucial moment of ascension, over and over again, cycling into infinity. (I don't think they actually had superpowers prior to ascending, I just think that they kinda thought of themselves so highly that they thought they should have those powers.) then contrast this with the world as the age of the iterators and the rain finally ends, and you have an unchanging echo reliving the same few cycles over and over contrasted with a world that is, at last, changing and moving on.

yeah it doesn't make sense with the joint iterator dialogue in rubicon (at least, the final line doesn't make sense). I don't care. it's what makes me happy as an interpretation. you can pry my morally dubious hypocritical ego-driven saint from my cold dead hands

[shkika]

Got any Headcanon backstory of how each iterator was named? Like, how did No Significant Harassment get his name? How did Five Pebbles get his name? Etc, etc. I'm curious what you think!

OHH what a fun ask to make up stuff on actually. Sure I have some headcanons. Iterator names are so so fun, because there's a lot you can do with them.

Different local groups could have themes perhaps on their names. Or perhaps their names are phrases or sayings or derive from them. I will go with each colony having their individual meaning for the iterator name.

Sliver of Straw- I've talked about her name extensively here! (x) Please check it out, because I LOVE her name. Basically means needle in a haystack + shortening it to SOS is genius. Just the best.

Looks To The Moon- I don't know if this is the most original take, but I do think her name has a lot of meaning especially if you take into account that she's one of the first or at least an extremely old iterator. I compare it to the landing on the Moon in a way even if it sounds silly. This impossible to reach place is now something well withing reach. Her name is to represent looking at opportunity at the impossible and striving to achieve it. Which can connect to.. well answering the impossible ascension question.

Five Pebbles- This is such a hard one for me. But since the game makes such strong parallels between those two. Making them opposites and such it makes sense to see that in their names. While Looks to the Moon's name is grand and aiming for high achievements. Five Pebbles' name could perhaps be about the smaller mundane things. Finding the solution in a little nook or cranny somewhere close to you. A place where you'd least expect it.

One name is to aim hight and strive for the impossible. The other is about staying low and finding the answer in the small things in life. Which is hilarious if you look at their actual characters. With FP making the bold dangerous decisions and experiments and LTTM vibing like a much more grounded character than him. I love those two.

No Significant Harassment- People find his name really weird which is amusing, because it's really not! To me at least. It can very simply mean "No real harm done". Which I think is probably the intention and it suits his funny guy personality quite a lot. In a way his name could mean peace! A fun hc I discussed with @creeket is that perhaps before NSH was built the colony was divided into four factions/houses that hated each other. The iterator was a reason for them to unite and work on something together which is what the four connected diamonds on his forehead represent.

Seven Red Suns- Okay this is one of the names I struggle the most with. My headcanons about SRS which I've mentioned before is that their colony is very religious and made them as an actual god, treating him as an actual all knowing god much muuch more than the other iterators are treated to the point Seven Red Suns has actual political power (which they really don't want to have). So I think their name is supposed to express how grand and impressive they are. Seven as in complete, perfect. Red is a royal, regal color and of course Suns further cementing their godhood. It makes me think of how the sun is often personified or given a deity to represent it. It can be a cruel leader that dries the land, but also give life and light.

Of course there's many ways to take it in completely different ways. Red stars if I'm not mistaken are the coldest.

Chasing Wind- I also really really like this iterator name. I like to imagine it as either one of two things or both. Chasing after something that is right in front of you yet just barely out of grasp. Like y'know the wind! Or your head is Chasing wind. Having an abundance of thoughts or ideas. Your imagination and creativity running wild and free like the wind!

Unparalleled Innocence- It's so on the nose haha. There is no buts or anything that is a direct opposite to her name in my headcanons. She's a very well meaning innocent person. She was the last iterator to be ever made and lacks a lot more context than the other. She was based of the concept of a child. Which of course children are known for their innocence and unique approach to the world.

[birdie-ghost]

Oh! Idea! What if Freddys glich out is caused by some sort of failsafe Mike might have put in? Because I imagine after his siblings dieing to his fathers inventions he'd be like "FUCK NO. Should it ever become relevent, youar to either protect my son. or stay the FUCK AWAY FROM HIM." Though Faz Ent probs wouldn't really let that happen, and routine maintenance would probably erase any weird coding. Also, why would it just be Freedy? <i>(also, puppet parallels)<i> WELPIHAVESHAREDTHERANDOMBRAINROT

Haha no worries friend!! Mike has all the knowledge about the coding and the processes that go into all of the animatronics. He’s one of the only people who goes through the main code and has access to what goes on in the diagnostic codes for all the animatronics. He helped design + code them when fazbear ent initially made the mega pizzaplex.

When they do the morning diagnostics they aren’t going through the actual code, they’re running a program that checks specific areas and codes

(lmao I’m probably not using the right terminology, I’m not a tech kid anymore, used to know Java well enough that I could make a basic game but alas. I have forgotten all that Kahn academy taught me)

So people just run that and wait for the green light from the program. It will pick up alters in personality, safety, and motor functions of the animatronics. As well as tell you what might need replacing.

But also mike just put his things in as a safety protocol and no one put up a fight. Mike has it in Chica and Freddy, he’s not got it as automated and personalized as Monty or Roxy, because they’re newer and mike hasn’t had the time to do that yet. This also goes for Sun and Moon, who are also a newer addition to the pizzaplex, but not quite as new. Sun has more secure coding than moon does at the moment for reasons ;)

Anyway!! Hope this answered some things for you and that I make a sliver of sense. I don’t do codes or engineering in that same sense anymore. A lot of my friends are into that, and I used to be a part of that but I’ve mostly forgotten that stuff. Also have fun with those brain worms I’ve been dealing with them sense like January XD

[bzedan]

Ah, July. Not the hottest month (that is August or September), but it is very a Summer Month. June is mostly (and technically is like two thirds?) a Late Spring Month, but in July summer has arrived and they are decked out in sparkles and sweating everywhere triumphantly.

So I wanted songs about water and outer space and agitation between chill summer vibes and snappy summer bops. There's some new music on there, including the single from CRJ's latest, which I ADORE. More neo-disco please! OH also enjoy the best possible cover of Duran Duran's "Hungry Like the Wolf," it's jazz. This is very a playlist to half-ignore while lazing about something else, it's all vibes, can be put on shuffle, and some of the songs'll grab ya, but who knows which on which playthrough.

Related media to some of the songs:

Just listening to Masstor's "Self Control" you might not realise that it's being sung by a giant blue orc? monster? guy in the most amazing creature/costume build (he's got so much available movement! it looks like Not A Bitch to get in and out of!), but here's the music video so you can experience the entirety of the vibes.

Janelle Monáe's The Age of Pleasure is such a killer summer album, the vibes in the "Waterslide" music video are fabulous, and please do check out the other videos for this album, it feels like they just rented a sick house for a weekend and knocked all the videos out while cavorting poolside.

Jim Sullivan's U.F.O. is a household favourite, and his story is a sad and semi-mysterious one. It's one of those "you hope it was a miracle... but probably not" situations.

There are multiple Bart Graft tracks on here, big recommend as background music for working, it's dance stuff but often chill. It's all vibes, I love it.

Anyway here's a link to July's playlist on Spotify, with the track list below the cut.

And embedded if you like that sort of thing:

'The Swimming Song' - Loudon Wainwright III  

'Pool Party' - Rudy Willingham  

'Spaceship' - Kesha  

'Give Us the Wind' - Future Islands  

'U.F.O.' - Jim Sullivan  

'Under the Boardwalk' - The Drifters  

'Turn Off the Lights' - LEN  

'The Visitors' - ABBA  

'Shy Boy' - Carly Rae Jepsen  

'Only Love Can Save Us Now' - Kesha  

'Season in Hell' - Dum Dum Girls  

'Self Control' - MASSTOR  

'Kokomo' - The Beach Boys  

'Orinoco Flow (Sail Away) - Single Version' - Enya  

'Good Vibrations' - Brian Wilson  

'Like Whiskey' - Dixon Dallas  

'Is It Cold In The Water?' - SOPHIE  

'Water Slide' - Janelle Monáe  

'Waterpark Inmersion' - El Guincho  

'Under the Water Fountain' - Bart Graft  

'Worship' - Ari Abdul  

'On the Water' - Future Islands  

'Gespaard's Poolside' - Bart Graft  

'Carry On, Turn Me On' - Space  

'As We Go Up, We Go Down' - Guided By Voices  

'Heroes and Villains' - Brian Wilson  

'Sunshine' - Oliver Tree  

'Vitamin C - 2004 Remastered Version' - CAN  

'Beam Me Up' - Midnight Magic  

'If You Love Me - Si Me Quieres' - Tito & Tarantula  

'Happy - Live Acoustic From Space' - Kesha  

'In My Blood' - Vitamin String Quartet  

'Brand New Key' - Melanie  

'Mellow Yellow' - Donovan  

'Hungry Like the Wolf' - Dinah Eastwood  

'I'm in Great Shape / I Wanna Be Around / Workshop' - Brian Wilson

'Let's Go Swimming' - Arthur Russell  

'Grease' - Future Islands  

'Sliver Of Ice' - ANOHNI  

'Temba, Tumba Y Timba' - Los Van Van  

'Motivate Ya (feat. Kelly Price)' - Big Freedia  

'In the Summertime' - Mungo Jerry  

'Underwater' - Sun's Signature  

'Steal My Sunshine' - LEN  

'Good Lookin'' - Dixon Dallas  

'Come For Me' - Sunflower Bean  

'Summer's Cauldron - Remastered 2001' - XTC  

'The Girl from Ipanema' - Astrud Gilberto  

'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire - From "A Small Light: Episode 3"' - Sharon Van Etten  

'Moon Journey' - Mort Garson  

'The Night Terrors - Saint Etienne Mix' - Matt Berry  

'Under Pressure' - Queen  

'Welcome To My Island' - Caroline Polachek  

'Down By the Sea' - Men At Work  

'One & Only' - Oliver Tree  

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 3

*Warning Adult Content*

- Ash -

When I come to, I'm lying in a white cot in a white room, with blue curtains on either side of me. I've never been in one but it looks similar to hospitals I've seen on TV so I'm assuming I'm in some type of medical facility.

Where, though? I have no idea.

The searing pain in my head has lessened and I felt floaty for some reason. My left arm has an IV running into it, something I have also only seen on TV before.

How did I get here? A nurse walks into the room holding a clipboard and notices I'm awake.

"How are you feeling, honey?" she asks, coming over to check something on the screen beside me.

"You're in the local hospital of the Shadow Pack. Daemon found you out in the forest and brought you here."

So Daemon is his name. Honestly, I think it fits him.

All serious like he is. And he'd... saved me?

The nurse has a nervous look on her face, chewing her lip as she glances at him.

"Listen, the head Alpha Lucien is going to be here soon... I had to tell him about the pack mark on your back."

My heart drops. She's talking about the tattoo at the top of my spine, the small dark circle with a sliver of a crescent, a symbol that shows that I belong to the Dark Moon Pack.

My cover, which wasn't much of one in the first place, has been completely blown. The door swings open then as a tall Alpha steps through, a commanding aura around him.

He's clearly an older man, probably in his late forties by the salt and pepper hair and beard he sports. And accompanied by him is no other than Daemon.

Dread pools in my stomach as they enter the room, nearing my cot. I will never forget the shiver that runs through me at the hateful stare Daemon gives me.

His jaw ticks in irritation as he looks down at me and I scramble to sit up in the cot. He definitely knows I lied to him by now, evident by how he looks at me like I'm the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

"Hello, omega. I can't say it's a pleasure to have you here, as this severely complicates things for me," the older man says, who I'm assuming is the 'Head Alpha Lucien' that the nurse mentioned.

"What are his stats, doc?" he asks the nurse who blushes at the incorrect title, fumbling for her clipboard.

"Alpha Lucien, he's suffered a grade three concussion in addition to being severely dehydrated and malnourished. That's why I plugged him with the IV."

"And why are we wasting valuable medical supplies on some Dark Moon trash?" Daemon interjects, venom in his tone.

I wince at the aggression in his voice, looking down so I can avoid the glare the Alpha is giving me. The nurse seems scared too but manages to speak out.

"He's just a boy. And from the looks of it he's been wandering out alone in the forest for many days."

Well, it's more like one night that I was out there but I glance at the nurse's clipboard and she's written stuff in bullet points like "underweight and starvation" like she's planning to make a whole research report about what might have happened to me.

In her defense that is very much what it looks like. But I've been starving for a long time and it's not because I was lost in the forest.

"And he got hurt out there," she looks like she's going to say more but Alpha Lucien holds up a hand to indicate silence.

"Don't mind my son, Vaela. You did your job and you're dismissed," he says and she nods vigorously, all too eager to obey his words as she rushes out of the room.

I want to call for her to come back, to keep me company. I don't want to be alone with these two scary-looking Alphas.

Lucien sits at the edge of his bed, gazing thoughtfully at me as I fidget under his stare.

"Now tell me the truth. What's your name?" Lucien questions.

I don't want to tell him but I know lying for the second time to this Alpha isn't the brightest idea.

"Ash Willow,"

"Ash Willow," Lucien repeats, as if testing how it sounds in his own voice. "Did Dark Moon send you here?"

My eyes widen at the question.

"No," I say, shaking my head, an answer that really seems to piss Daemon off.

"That's bullshit," he snarls. "You lied to me and said that you were a rogue. You're obviously some spy Dark Moon sent."

"That's not it. I swear."

I put my hands up, desperately trying to defend myself from the accusations.

"Then what is it?" Lucien asks, his demeanor still relatively calm in comparison to his hot-headed son.

"Uh," I start, wringing my hands together, reluctant to share the full story of why I'd left Dark Moon. "I... ran away. I just wanted to leave that place. I really didn't mean to come here, I w-was planning to go somewhere else but then I fell and hit my head so I got all confused and just ended up here! It really was an accident."

The torrent of words leaves my mouth flustered and I just want to crawl in a hole and die. They're looking at me like they don't buy what I'm saying and I probably wouldn't either if I was them because I'm terrible at lying.

"Do you understand that now that you're here, we can't let you leave so easily? This is a major breach of our pack security and we can't risk letting you go on the chance you'll return to Dark Moon."

The thought of going back to that horrible place makes me clench my fists so hard I stamp bloody crescents into my palms.

"But I'm not gonna go back," I reply, trying to make them see that their suspicions are truly unfounded.

No one would ever hire me as a spy even if I was the only option. Lucien strokes his beard contemplatively.

"I see. So you would stay here?" he questions.

It's evident that Daemon is not happy with the suggestion by the way his nostrils flare, shooting me a warning look. I take the memo, quickly shaking my head.

"W-well, n-no, I didn't mean that. You can just um, dump me somewhere. Far away from Dark Moon, if you're worried I'll go back,."

"Let me rephrase this, omega... You will stay here. It's in my best interests to keep you under surveillance."

Shit. I'm definitely in deep shit.

"D-do you mean I'll stay here as a hostage?"

Lucien sighs, pinching his brow like he's getting tired of explaining something to a little kid.

"No. What kind of Alpha would I be if I locked up an omega who doesn't even look like he's had his first heat?"

I flush at that. It's true that I haven't had my first heat yet.

The first heat usually comes anytime between the ages 16 and 17 but I still haven't gotten it and I'm nearly 18. I wonder when it's finally going to come but I'm kind of glad I haven't had it yet.

It would be one more thing that Alpha Ferix would throw in my face and use to punish me for. He hates everything 'omega' about me so him discovering my heat would have been bad news.

"So then..." I say, not sure what comes next.

I look anxiously at myself in the reflection of the metal panel on the wall, my opal-green eyes staring right back at me.

"You'll exist here like any other citizen. I'm gonna put you in school and you'll live with me."

That's definitely the last thing I was expecting on offer from my enemy pack's leader. And Daemon doesn't like it, not at all.

His last thread of patience seems to snap and he shoots me a glare.

"You know what? Fuck this." he yells, storming out, slamming the door with earth-shattering rage on his way.

I flinch at the force of it, putting my hands up to shield my face as an automatic response, the fear of being hit ever-present. It happens any time I encounter violence.

"Forgive Daemon," Alpha Lucien says to me as he looks at the door his son just slammed.

"He hates Dark Moon and for good reason. I just wish he'd learn to control that temper of his..." 

[minty-playhouse]

hello! it's your secret santa here :) may i say i love your recent roger daltrey art!!!!! (he is my fav in the who and also like my husband <333) so who is your favorite in the who & why? which of their albums is your favorite? annnd what is your fav solo album out of all of their solo work?

Hello secret santa, sorry for taking forever to reply!

First things first, I wanna tahnk you for liking my recent WIPs, I hope I can finish them soon!

Now, I wanna welcome everyone to my Who ted talk because I wanna talk about all these questions in lenght!

My all time favorite is Keith Moon, my rotten soldier, my good time boy, my sweet cheese... He has always been my favorite ever since I first started listening to The Who when I was 19, and recently my love for him has just gotten stronger. I'm not going to sit here and go "he's just like me for real" because tht's no true at all, but sometimes I read some of the stuff he said in interviews and unearth certain facts about him that make me feel that some of the things I feel and think align with his, and it makes me feel some sort of weird kinship I don't feel with any other musician I'm a fan of. I dunno how pretentious it is that I just said that, but it's the truth.

Sure I like him also due to more surface level reasons, because I'm only human lol I think he's adorable (like damn, wish i looked like 60's Keith every day of my life), his drumming skills are to die for and he's my biggest inspiration when it comes to "you wanna do something? do it!" Like I wish I had even a sliver of his confidence when it comes to just doing whatever you want (I've been getting better at that though, but in a non self-destructive way lol)

My favorite album has to be Sell Out. I absolutely love everything about it. The heavy pop art theming, the songs, the radio-like structure of the album... Absolutely everything about Sell Out is perfect to me and I wouldn't change a single thing. I'm always listening to it back to back and it never fails to bring a smile to my face <3 Also I'm a slut for psychedelic stuff and Sell Out is the closest The Who got to it so I cling to that as if my life depended on it!

My close second favorite is Who Are You followed closely by A Quick One. Don't get me wrong, I adore Who's Next but I feel it's a bit overrated /hot take

And, oh boy, favorite solo album out of ALL of them? That's an impossibly hard question because I like everyone's solo works so much (yes, Keith's shitpost album included) because all of them bring something different that I love! I love Roger's more pop-sounding stuff, I love Pete's deep, meaningful songs, I love John's xtra "problematic" tunes.

I think I'm just gonna pick a favorite for each and call it a day! My favorite Roger solo album is Ride a Rock Horse (the reasons are obvious to my followers but shhh, we are not talking about that now), my favorite Pete album is All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes (honestly, the whole album is just full of bangers) and my favorite John album is Whistle Rymes (it's so absolutely unhinged, every track is a treasure).

[greyeyedmonster-18]

all is calm, all is bright

(come on, did y'all really think I would be ending ficmas so early? I had to do one more)

prompt by @impishtubist i saw and had to do it re: when full moons land on Christmas Eve/Christmas and everything looks a little different.

"We talked about it," Sirius explained, his chin resting on Harry's head as he spoke, "And I said we could open gift's without Moony today and tell you all about them, or we could wait until tomorrow when you're feeling better and--"

"Tomorrow!" Harry confirmed in a sing-song voice, "Best!"

Remus blinked slowly, "You...wanted to wait?"

--

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered into the side of Sirius' face sleepily, having spent the duration of the day before Christmas Eve in bed with the curtains closed. A pounding headache, intermittent shivers. He always thought when you got bit by a werewolf they should've given you a pamphlet called this is your life now- get used to it! and that the pamphlet should have an entire section on how shitty the days just before the full moon would make you feel, especially with aging. In his 20's and Remus was turned into an 80-year old before he was turned into a beast and on days like this--where his headache kept him from playing with his toddler; where he couldn't get out of bed to help his partner--, the 80-year-old was decidedly worse.

"Shh," Sirius said, gently pushing back Remus' hair, slightly damp from a day worth of fevers breaking and reviving in a vicious cycle. "It's fine, my love. Don't think on it.

"I left you all alone today, all day," Remus mumbled, "With a three-year-old. And tomorrow won't be better...neither will Christmas... I suppose it had to happen eventually, I just...he's still so little."

"He is...which means there are so many other non-exhausted, recovering Christmas' you get with him," Sirius spoke softly, kissing Remus on each of his eyelids that were closed, his hand still stroking his hair, "He's the best kid. He's all set to be with the Weasleys tomorrow so I can stay with you, pick him up early Christmas morning..."

"I don't know how anyone else in this life survives without someone like you," Remus placed a weak kiss on Sirius' wrist, not having the energy to do anything else, his lips landing clumsily, "Just promise me Christmas won't be ruined. Okay? You can get up and open presents and all the stuff he loves to do. I won't be upset if he's loud or...just Christmas isn't ruined."

"Christmas isn't ruined," Sirius repeated back to him, in a way that sounded reassuring. But Sirius wasn't reassuring Remus' wish. He was reassuring Remus that no matter what he wasn't a burden. He wasn't going to ruin a holiday or a marriage. Everything wouldn't be lost. "I love you."

--

Christmas Day 1983

Remus didn't remember returning to Number 12, transformations now taking place outside in the Blacks backyard. Even with wolfsbane, he found it easier to be outside to avoid any accident. Remus also didn't remember getting into bed, but that was where he woke up under a mountain of blankets, the curtains in their bedroom completely closed, only a sliver of light peaking through, his stomach rumbling. He had woken up three hours ago at Sirius' insistence, his husband fussing over some wounds on his arm and making sure he took his healing potions, even if Remus was rude and told him to bugger off. Transforming for years and Remus still liked to forget that waking up to take a pain reliever before actually waking up helped him feel loads better. He stretched slowly, moving his fingers one by one, and then his wrists, taking note of what parts of his body pinched a little extra and what muscles he was going to put under the hot shower spray if he ever made it there.

He sat up slowly, reaching for his wand to send a Patronus down for Sirius to let him know he was awake--at 2 in the afternoon, finally. He took a sip of water from the glass Sirius had left out for him, swallowing at the cool liquid on an empty stomach that immediately sent a shiver up his body as he could feel it slide all the way down his esophagus. He could've fallen back asleep, sitting up taking enough effort, but he needed to eat and he wanted to see his kid. And his husband. He wanted Sirius to be there and hold him, but he knew Harry was the priority and he wasn't going to ruin Christmas by being selfish. Even if Sirius' body heat was better than all the blankets combined. Even if this was the one time every month Remus just wanted Sirius to never let go, even if he would never admit it. He reclined his head so it was resting on his headboard, and closed his eyes, determined not to fall asleep again, exhaustion coming in waves.

"Okay, remember to be very quiet, okay?" came Sirius' voice in a hushed whisper.

"Otay, but what 'bout Christmas hugs? S'important," Harry's voice followed, much louder, a toddler's version of quiet very different than Sirius'.

"Gentle, yeah?" Sirius said back and Remus could hear the handle of the door turning. Remus lifted his head up in anticipation, a smile already threatening to break through the tired.

"So soft, promise," Harry said just before the door opened completely, revealing Harry and Sirius in matching Christmas sweaters--red as Harry had picked out, with snowflakes on them. "Moony, hi," Harry whispered loudly, breaking away from Sirius who was holding a tea tray, a second one hovering behind him in the hall with actual tea on it. "Feel better? Moony got ouch?"

"Yeah, but...I'm feeling better. Just sleepy." Remus offered a tired smile to Harry who was standing at his bedside, reaching a hand out to his three-year-old's shock of black hair and running his fingers over it.

"We have Christmas panclocks," Harry told him, grabbing Remus' hand that had touched his hair, "I told Padfoo it was Cookie Day but he said no."

"I believe I said that Moony needs to eat actual food before having a cookie today, and have some tea...I am not going to deprive you of cookies." Sirius put the tea tray on the bed, after levitating over a towel from the linen closet, before reaching over to press a hand to Remus' forehead, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been starved my entire life."

"Sounds right," Sirius smiled, and leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth, "Happy Christmas, baby."

"Padfoo, up?" asked Harry and Sirius bent down to pick Harry up, placing him next to Remus in bed behind the tea tray.

"Pancakes, sausage, lemongrass tea for you because it's an--"

"Anti-inflammatory," nodded Remus"I know. Thank you," he reached his hand up, while Sirius was still crouched over, palming the back of his head just as he had to Harry's. Sirius understood the gesture, leaning forward to kiss him again. "Love you," Remus said into his mouth and all exhaustion seemed to vanish the moment he felt Sirius smile into it.

"Padfoo, no kisses!"

"More kisses? What?" asked Sirius, "All the kisses?" Sirius moved quickly to the other side of the bed, crawling onto it to take Harry into his arms, showering his godson with kisses, and tickles, the little boy squealing and giggling, asking for more when Sirius had the audacity to stop. Remus picked up the fork that was left on the tray, sitting up straighter, all previous tiredness cured by the smell of breakfast and his toddler, now in Sirius' lap, pointing out the different colors of sprinkles he added inside the pancake batter.

"It's green."

"What else?"

"And red. And white."

"Very good," Remus put a bite into his mouth, sighing around the warm and fluffy pancake. Harry continued to talk while he ate, letting Remus know the types of cookies they had made, and about his night at the Weasleys, all in the same loud whisper, in their bedroom, which now had slightly more light from curtains Sirius had opened just enough. Remus listened, giving Sirius appreciative glances over messy hair, everything his partner cooked was perfection. Even the small vial of pain potion that Remus saved for last.

"You haven't even told me what Father Christmas brought you, Harry."

"Dunno, we're waiting."

"For what?"

"You."

"We talked about it," Sirius explained, his chin resting on Harry's head as he spoke, "And I said we could open gift's without Moony today and tell you all about them, or we could wait until tomorrow when you're feeling better and--"

"Tomorrow!" Harry confirmed in a sing-song voice, "Best!"

Remus blinked slowly, "You...wanted to wait?"

"'t's good with Moony," Harry said again, crawling out of Sirius' lap, a tiny hand coming up to Remus' cheek, brushing it lightly, "Presents for you."

"We did open one so we could have sweaters but..." Sirius shrugged, "It was unanimous. Everything's better with you."

"Cookies."

"Kid's got his priorities," teased Sirius

"So...what's the plan for today then?"

"This," Sirius told him. "And...dinner in bed too."

Remus let out a soft laugh, at Sirius' slightly pained expression. Full moons were the one exception, the one occasion that usurped Sirius' rules on where food should be eaten, but even when Remus had been worse off, the most dinner that had happened in their bed was a bowl of soup. Remus very much doubted tonight would be exclusively soup though. Perhaps Christmas was the exception for everything, Sirius forever going above and beyond to make it special for both his boys. Sirius cleared away the food tray, now empty, and reached over to hand Remus his cup of tea. Harry had grabbed one of the blankets on the bed and pulled it up over his legs, putting part of it onto Remus and patting it gently.

"'So soft, so soft. 'S cold."

"Come on, Iove, let's let Moony get some more sleep, we'll see him--"

Remus shook his head, "Stay."

"You sure?" Sirius asked and Remus nodded, The only other things than wanting Sirius and Harry to stay had been when he had married Sirius and agreed to raise Harry without hesitation alongside him. They were the only sure things.

Remus didn't remember falling asleep the second time either, but he knew it was shortly after he had told them both to stay. He vaguely recalled Sirius taking the tea out of his hands so it wouldn't spill and burn his skin. But when he woke up about an hour and a half later, Harry was still there, burrowed under the covers with him, and face resting on his arm. Sirius was in bed as well, though wide awake, his legs stretched out in front of him and a book in his hand.

"Hey," he said when he noticed Remus stir, careful not to wake up Harry, "He insisted he nap with you today, and I quote, 'Moony cuddles are the best.'"

--

Christmas Day 1997

Remus woke up with swollen eyes and an ache in his hip that wasn't there a week ago, and his husband's hand on his shoulder. He ran a hand gingerly over the spot, still staying underneath the blankets, feeling a small bruised, but mostly muscle pains, not paying any attention to Sirius, "Go away."

"You'll feel better in a few hours, you always do," Sirius said just above a whisper, a warm hand coming to the side of Remus' face. Remus leaned into the touch, "Come on, love."

"Let me complain about it..." Remus attempted to say in a tone that was positively bratty, but it came out as one that was scratchy and dry. A hoarse whisper. Sirius kissed him on the forehead as he opened his eyes despite the 20-pound weights on each of his eyelids.

"Happy Christmas."

"Mmm," Remus said uncorking the two vials and downing them separately. He sighed again when Sirius gave him a glass of water, followed by another kiss to the side of his face.

"Love you."

"Love you too," Remus said just before the door opened, their seventeen-year-old strolling through the open door with comically messy hair, his shirt missing and a long fluffy blanket thrown around his shoulders like a cape, some of it trailing on the floor behind him.

"Morning?" asked Sirius, "Are you up?"

"No," Harry mumbled. His glasses hadn't been put on, their teenager bumping into their nightstand before he climbed into their bed, situating himself close to Remus, "Not morning, not up."

Remus knew that Harry had trouble sleeping the night of full moons. He also knew that Christmas Eve had contained a long argument between him and Sirius, about whether or not he should go to the Weasleys when Harry was insistent on staying indoors at Number 12 by himself (an argument that he didn't win and resulted in some choice words and a slamming door). Because Harry was seventeen and apparently that meant he was old enough to do whatever the hell he wanted including being in the same proximity as a werewolf and did not take kindly to being told, Absolutely not and we're done discussing this.

"You okay?" asked Harry, once he had pulled the blanket fully around him, his body making more movement on the bed than it used to, but sometimes Remus looked over and saw him as tiny. Even though he was nearly Remus' height and had the same muscles his Dad had from playing Quidditch. Their bed was still Harry's favorite bed and Remus was glad for it. Glad for the nights that Harry would come into their room and squeeze in between them just to talk. Less glad for nights he did the same because he was missing his parents, or lost in his own scary thoughts--what if you die too?

"I'm okay," Remus told him honestly, no longer having to sugar coat everything for it to make sense and Harry preferred it, "Sore and tired...Okay though."

"Good."

"Pancakes?" Sirius asked.

"Mmm, afternoon food now," Harry responded, his face sideways on the pillow, where his godfather usually slept, having pulled it closer to Remus.

"Mhmm," Remus agreed, taking another sip of water before settling down, his eyes half-closed already and Harry's breathing had relaxed.

"Let me know when you're awake," Sirius said, kissing Remus again, Remus wishing his arm wasn't made of lead and he could put his fingers along Sirius' face to let him know. But it was warm under the blankets. Sirius leaned over Remus' lap to kiss Harry on the side of his head, their teenager groaning in disagreement.

"Quit it--"

"It's Christmas."

"Yes, it's Christmas, I love you, but now it's sleeping time," Harry emphasized, his voice muffled slightly by a pillow case and Remus' right arm, "M'not mad anymore, we can make cookies later."

"I'll be downstairs," Sirius said

"Hey," Harry said louder, with a tone of indignance, sitting up slightly, to look at Sirius, "I said I'm not mad anymore. You're supposed to tell me you love me. That's how this works."

Remus' eyes were closed but he could practically see Sirius' amused smile and Harry's grumpy scowl that Sirius was on the receiving end of more in the mornings than Remus was. He felt a shift in the bed, the unmistakable weight of Sirius leaning over again, and Remus opened one eye just enough to see Sirius kiss Harry again on the top of his head.

"Of course I love you."

"...Pancakes?"

"Yes, love. Later. I heard a rumor they're an afternoon food..." The weight went away, the door closing with a soft click. There was movement again, this time of Harry pulling up more blankets over his body, and the pillow even closer to Remus'. He could feel his teenager's forehead against his arm.

"You don't have to stay with me."

"'M tired, dunno how Sirius just...get's up."

"Me neither."

"You're okay?" Harry asked for the third time. Triple checking. The same way Sirius did, except his godfather, did it with his hands, feeling for fevers, looking for scrapes and bruises, putting out extra blankets.

"Mhmm."

"Still the best..." Harry said after a long silence, both of them falling back asleep in the comfort of a warm bed. Anxiety smoothed over, aches and pains feeling better. Sirius.

"Hm?"

"Love bed Christmas," Harry told him, already drifting back to sleep, inhibitions lowered, his sleepiness not caring whether he told his godfather to love him and need more kisses even; not caring when he told Remus he loved the time they got to snuggle in bed together like they did when he was growing up, making Sirius roll his eyes at cooking crumbs in the sheets, "Not bed Christmas is great too. S'like I get two. Who else is so lucky they get two Christmas's?"

Christmas isn't ruined.

Christmas is still the best.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 15

WARNING: Mature scenes ahead!!! ;)

A/N: Future u, i hope ur ok

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The moonlight glimmered among the stars in the now pitch-black skies, fighting off against the bright lights hanging from above the tent. Bucky's digression to topics regarding his real family (or lack thereof, I think) never wore off, clearly avoiding talking about, dare you say, "the real stuff." But the classic "favorites" section of a date was indeed a delight. You had already covered favorite films (his was The Truman Show, while yours was Forrest Gump; but you also talked about other films that you both shared a liking to — Pulp Fiction, Me, Myself & Irene, Dead Poets Society, The Godfather, the Harry Potter series, Inception, and of course, any films that star the legendary Tom Hanks), favorite music to listen to (you both loved vintage rock and roll), and so much more favorites and would you rather and what ifs and if you weres. But you mostly talked about films — an in-depth discourse on their themes, writing, and cinematography (things you never thought you'd be able to talk about with anyone).

"Have you ever thought about shooting films?" Bucky asked.

You were now lying down on the blanket-covered ground, bodies upside down-like: your forehead aligned with his chin, and his chin aligned with your forehead, as if characters from The Fault In Our Stars.

"I did." You replied. "But I wanted to focus more on photography."

"Why?"

You turned your head, your breath fanning the side of his face. "There's something about the stillness of moving things, of people around me, beautiful people that strikes me as fascinating."

He hummed, closing his eyes. He was saying something, about how art, in all kinds of medium, connected people from all walks of life, how the beauty of it all can be different to each, and how he wished he could make one of his own: to give life to a canvas, to freeze a moment in time, to put his thoughts in pen and paper, and to embody a character different from his. At some point, you could feel him peeling down all his layers but then he stopped talking.

You respected the silence between you and took your sweet time studying his face. The wrinkles on his forehead looked like ridges of sand, ridges people would like to walk on for days, ridges that held untold stories of — perhaps — heartache, failure, and pain. His closed eyelids looked like a sleeping moon, gleaming. Almost touching his cheeks were his long, curved eyelashes. Then, my eyes trailed down to his nose, dotted with freckles, his nostrils releasing small puffs of air; then down to his mouth, slightly agape, and then down to the stubbles on the sides of his face. There was a small scar, almost concealed by where his beard started to grow.

You turned your body sideways, tracing the scar with your finger.

Bucky's body tensed under your touch.

"What happened to this fella?" You whispered, tracing the small scar.

He soon let himself relax, opening his eyes. "Car accident." He replied. "But I don't remember much of it. I don't know where it happened, or how it happened or if I hit something or worse, someone. But Tony told me he took care of everything. I haven't been behind the wheel since then. I fear history will repeat itself."

Then, you remembered all the times you've been in a vehicle with Bucky. Not once was he driving. "How old were you?"

"Nineteen? Twenty? I really don't know." He sighed, closing his eyes once again. It was the first time Bucky told you something so real — a fear, something personal, something close to home. "Hey, y/n?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Can you kiss it and make it feel better?"

You giggled, poking the scar. "You've got to be kidding me."

He pouted, his eyes still closed. "Please?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "Fine." You planted a soft kiss on the scar, your lower lip catching the rough edges of his beard.

"I'm still not feeling better."

"Oh Bucky, you are such a child." You laughed, giving it another kiss, and then another, and then another and then another, until rough edges turned into the soft textures of his lips. With lips entangled in an unusual position, you brought myself onto your knees, and positioned yourself on top of him — knees on each side of his hips, crotch pressed against his, hands on his jaws, lips on his lips, tongue inside of his mouth.

His hands found your neck, then up your jaws, cupping your face and pulling it closer to his. He then started to rake the roots of your hair, tugging it lightly, making a moan escape your lips. You felt one corner of his mouth turn a bit upward at the sound. He tugged your hair tighter and harder until your lips left his with your head pulled backwards, leaving your bare neck exposed.

Without any hesitation, his mouth moved onto neck. Gratified by the series of moans coming out of your mouth, he sucked deeper into your skin, biting every inch of your neck, making sure to leave damn marks. On impulse, you moved your hips against his, grinding his clothed crotch. Bucky groaned against your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You could feel your own wetness in between your thighs as you moved your hips more, Bucky's bulge growing under you getting bigger and bigger. The sensation left you breathless.

And you needed more.

You broke away from his grasp, returning the favor. You kissed him on the lips and moved your way towards his earlobes in which Bucky very much liked; so much that he thrusted his hips upwards, slamming loud onto yours.

"Oh, fuck." You moaned, moving your way towards his neck.

Bucky's hands immediately flew under your shirt. His cold hands making contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

"Wait." He said, pulling away from you. "Is this okay? Are you okay with this?"

You giggled and nodded, kissing him on the mouth to give him permission.

He cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry, but we live in a litigious society so I'm gonna need a verbal reply from you, especially that you're years younger than me."

You chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Barnes. You have my full consent."

He smirked. "Keep calling me that and I'll give you my full consent."

"Shut up already, Mr. Barnes."

He lifted the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing a cotton white bra.

You bit your lip. "If you'd told me about the date, I would've worn a much better one."

"I don't mind." He breathed, sitting up. "I like white on you." He traced the lining of the bra with his finger, together with his eyes. He licked his lower lip before planting a kiss between your breasts. "So pure. Innocent."

"Innocent is not the word to describe me." You smirked. "Remember what I told you before?"

"Hmm, I seem to have forgotten." He teased. "What was it again?"

"I'm a devil on the sheets, Bucky."

"Then show it to me, doll." He purred.

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the worries and fear you talked about with Nat all washed away. And like always, she was again, right.

It was exactly like riding a bicycle.

And you were ready to be in control, in control of a man your senior, and to unleash something inside you you've never seen in quite a while.

You grabbed Bucky's face and kissed him on the mouth while pulling his shirt over his head. Every inch of his naked sculpted upper body glistened under the lights, like dewy grass under the sun.

You kissed his collarbones, shoulders, and chest. Before you could even move on to his tummy, a strong force came, flipping your body, your back hitting the blanket-covered ground.

"But not before I show it to you first." He growled, reaching something from above. He closed the front of the tent, pulling something from above. Within a second, the lights above went dim. The only light you now had was the moonlight.

You liked it this way. Darkness made you feel safe — but it was the kind of darkness with a sliver of light and Bucky was it. The inside of the tent grew hotter, making your body sweat, or perhaps it was just the sexual heat between you and Bucky as Bucky removed your pants, as well as his, leaving you in just your undergarments.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing up against him, making him feel that you were already dripping for him, that you wanted him.

He moaned inside your mouth as you grinded against each other. His teeth pulled your bra down. With your bare chest exposed, you usually had the instinct to cover them up because they were small for people's taste but you didn't do that with Bucky. He admired them with his eyes, and admired them more with his lips wrapped around your nipples, pulling each of them softly. He then left fluttered kisses on your breasts before moving down to your belly, kissing every curve, every wave fold there ever was, and every stretch mark he came across upon.

His mouth stopped right on the folds of your lower belly, his fingers making their way on your wet cotton panties. His lips went back to yours while his fingers were circling all around you, clothed, making you wetter each second. Then, he slipped your panties aside, taking no time at all in inserting a finger inside.

A moan escaped your lips, opening your mouth more, giving access to Bucky's tongue. With another finger slipping inside, you bit Bucky's lower lip, pulled it away from him. He watched you gasp for air, listened to each moan, and felt you deep inside as he continued to thrust his fingers in you.

"You're quite tight, doll." He said. "I'm going for another to ease you up, okay?"

You nodded then whimpered as soon as a third finger made its way inside. Because you were, in his own words, quite tight, Bucky had a bit of a difficult time moving inside. He pulled away after a few moments, giving you time to catch your breath. He folded your knees, and held your legs in place using his veiny hands. He left a trail of soft kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing on your skin every once in a while. You watched him inched forward, nearing your core. You watched him take delight in each mark he imprinted.

He hooked his thumbs on your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. On his knees, he ravished your body with his eyes, then your face. He leaned down, kissing you

"Beautiful." He mumbled in the kiss.

He soon devoured your pussy, his tongue moving up and down your folds, his upper lip nibbling your clit. You closed your yes, threw your head back and raked his hair with your fingers, guiding his mouth deeper. With his mouth still exploring every bit of you, he inserted two fingers inside. You whimpered at the sensation of both his tongue flicking your clit, and his fingers fucking you.

You moaned louder, arching your back, rolling your eyes at the back of your head. You badly wanted to see him, to watch him greedily eat you but his mouth and fingers felt so good that you couldn't even keep your eyes open. The more you tried to, the faster his mouth and fingers moved. It made your legs tremble under his touch, your thighs pressing closer and closer to his ears, which he didn't like as he kept spreading your legs wider with his other hand.

"Bu-Bucky, please." You gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

"No. Not yet."

With that, he released his mouth and fingers, leaving you suspended in ecstasy. You opened your eyes, seeing Bucky on top of you, his face studying you. Then, he brought his fingers — the same ones that were just inside you — to his mouth, licking them. Now, you really did wish you could've kept your eyes open the whole time.

"You taste good, doll." He said, giving you his fingers.

You opened your mouth and reached for his fingers, sliding up and down, the taste of you sitting on your tongue. You could feel Bucky weaken above you as you continued to suck his fingers. Your right hand moved to his boxers, stroking his clothed hard-on. His eyelids quivered for a moment, losing touch of his dominance. You kissed his fingers one last time and flipped him over, not wasting any damn time taking his boxers off.

He sprung up in front of you. He was big (the biggest you've encountered), and was throbbing under your touch. He was hot, and a little bit wet. You looked at him while you pumped him slowly, then kissed him, returning the pleasure. A breath escaped his mouth as your pace went faster, and faster. His body became weaker under you, his lips agape, surrendering to submission, to your dominance.

Bucky felt so fragile underneath you, not being able to regain the control he once had. He wanted this. He wanted you to show him how much of a devil you were.

You pulled away from his mouth and moved lower on his body, his large, throbbing dick between your eyes. You kissed the top, making his legs quiver. You soon took him in — all of him, which made Bucky grab your head, pull your hair, and guide you all the way. You looked at him as you worked him all the way up, then down, then up and down: his mouth was kept open, a series of moans coming out, and at the same time, gasping for air; instead of eyes closed, his eyes were wide open, looking at the unlit lights above him.

Usually, giving head to people wasn't at all satisfying to you. What would it give you, anyway? It was either forced, or just because they told you to suck them. But with Bucky, you didn't even hesitate on doing so. It wasn't an itch you were trying to scratch away. It was on impulse, an instinct, a desire you wanted. And seeing Bucky in this state gave you so much pleasure.

So much.

Bucky let out the loudest moan, sitting up straight, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath.

"I need you." He rasped. "Now."

You nodded, satisfied with what you received on his end. You straddled him, grinded on his bare dick, and glazed it with your wetness. He groaned, guiding your hips with his one hand, the other on the ground, keeping himself straight up.

"Don't worry. I'm on the pill." you whispered.

"I thought it's been over a year since you — "

"It's for acne, dumbass." You chuckled. "You can cum inside me if you want. You have my full consent."

"Good."

You held onto his broad shoulders as you lowered myself onto him and within a second, you felt his tip inside.

You bit your lip as you inched yourself lower. With his whole inside you, you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, and let out a small whimper.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and placed a kiss on his neck, reassuring him.

You moved your body up and down, biting your lip to keep small cries from coming out, but soon enough, you were taking in pleasure within pain until all there was was pleasure.

Sweet, sweet pleasure.

You bounced on top of him faster, — god, he felt so big and so good in you — skin slapping on skin, echoing against the thin sheets, with his lips on yours, then on your neck, then on your breasts; his hands on your jaw, on your neck, your breasts (sometimes, together with his lips), on the small of your back, on your hips, then on your ass.

"Oh god, you feel so fucking good." Bucky said, kissing your skin as you kept on bouncing on top of him. "But it's my turn, babydoll."

You moaned at the nickname, making your body frail to move and then the next thing you knew, you were flipped over, with Bucky on his knees, thrusting faster, then deeper as he inched forward, your chests pressed together. Your fingers clawed on his back, his hot breath on your neck, your breath on his ear where he could hear you moaning his name.

"That's right." He whispered, kissing your neck. "Say my name."

You wrapped your legs around his waist (a kind of intimacy you had never done before), and with it, pulled him closer, deeper, giving you an astounding pleasure, making your whole body tremble under him, getting you higher and higher on staggering ecstasy, and sending you over your edge.

You cried out his name one last time, feeling your white juices come on his dick, mixed with his inside you.

"My god," he whispered, "I think I could never get enough of you."

"You just read my mind, Mr. Barnes."

"Hey, I feel a whole lot better now." He winked.

You chuckled.

You caught each others' breaths, kissing one last time before he removed himself from you, and laid down beside you where he wrapped his arms and legs around you, your head on his chest. You weren't the one to cuddle but at that moment, your body, frail and vulnerable, gave in. You didn't want to fight it, anyway. You were both surrounded with each others' pool of sweat but it didn't matter.

You were bathing in bliss.

In this bliss he had given you.

"You're not gonna kick me out the next morning, are you?" You asked, half-joking, scared that you'd be in the same position as that of the woman from before.

"No, doll." He replied, "you have my word," then kissed your forehead.

Bucky pulled you closer, his chin on top of your head. You listened to his heartbeat slow down every five seconds, giving you a rhythm you soon fell asleep to.

[vegalocity]

(I’m probably gonna send you a few of these so brace yourself) Hugs #35. Hunter experiences his first ever cuddle pile when he hangs out with Luz and Her friends. - Pixel Anon

affection meme

35. cuddle pile

Pixel (adnd basically anyone lol) send me as much as you want, my computer is busted rn and i can't draw writing is all i've got.

sooo you wanted like a shitton of words about Hunter being touch starved yeah? Good here's the Extended Friend Group (Extended to include the Former Detention Kids) having a sleepover

--

Luz called him touch starved. He thought the idea was ridiculous when she'd first said it; as people touched him all the time, He had the scars to prove that people touched him all the time.

But when he'd come down the stairs of the Owl House to see her and her friends (and girlfriend) spread out along the sleeping bags and cushions, and the girl with the glasses gently placed a hand on his upper arm to keep him from bumping into her as she called back to the others that she was going to go check on the Moon Lillies Eda had let her keep here, and it felt like lightning across his skin. But like... good lightning? It made him jolt and gooseflesh rose up on his skin but it wasn't unpleasant. It felt nice... Like... really nice.

The faintest whisper of her fluffy hair brushed his shoulder as she passed him and his heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't even remember the girl's name and for a moment he was sincerely convinced he'd fallen in love with her. The moment passed and he'd recovered from his temporary insanity, but the memory remained.

Luz called him over, claiming the lot of them were having a sleepover tonight, and if he wanted to join he was welcome.

'Lot of them' was at the moment Luz, King, her friend with the glasses, a younger boy, her girlfriend, a girl with her hair tied up in a bramble scrunchy, a taller boy whom towered over him, and a four legged demon whom also wore glasses.

He only joined because he had nothing better to do. He was introduced to her extended friend group (those being Viney, Jorbo, and Barkus) Luz going on to the others he didn't remember the names of with 'and you already remember the rest of these guys'

He sat apart from the others and avoided eye contact with the glasses girl (Willow, as Luz called her upon her return) wondering idly if as a plant person she'd somehow doused herself with some sort of plant pheromone to make all boys make fools of themselves around her, but then again, Jorbo Barkus and the younger boy (Gus as he'd spoken in third person for a but while telling a story) all seemed to be unaffected.

Then Jorbo slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer in one arm, Barkus under his other and claimed loudly that 'the guys get to choose the game' and Hunter's brain stopped working altogether until He let him go to insist that Gus doesn't count as 'the guys' because he always sides with Luz and Willow on games anyway. And for another very stupid very insane moment he'd convinced himself he'd fallen in love again.

Though this time he'd barely had a moment to recover from his temporary bout of insanity as the two began to bicker before Barkus sighed and placed a paw on his knee in solidarity and he was sent reeling again.

This kept happening on and off all day, someone would touch him, and his insides would positively lurch and he'd fell at once like he both needed to get as far away as possible, and lean into whatever the touch was and cling to whomever was providing it. But thankfully after those first two his brain had stopped taking the exact wrong conclusions about his reactions, so he'd stopped having to talk himself down from the worry that Luz's friends were all sirens and he was falling for their trap.

But it did mean he was now acutely aware of the lot of them as they continued about their games. Amity and Luz were play acting a scene and Amity dramatically fell backward, her upper half and head resting for only a brief moment in his lap and his knees felt like jelly for almost a full hour afterward.

Gus dramatically leaped in his direction and out of reflex Hunter caught him, and he... didn't want to let go. He was able to get away with carrying Gus around for a little bit, as there were no complaints from him at least, but he let the kid drop before it got suspicious.

Viney pulled him aside and while he was getting used to people touching his arms quickly, he was NOT used to another person's hot breath on his skin as she whispered a plan to prank the others into his ear.

King was perched on his shoulders for the longest time after he'd carried Gus around for a bit, insisting that if anyone deserved to have a personal chauffer it was him. He made sure to play up how annoyed he was, but the warm fur on the back of his neck was comforting.

But Luz, Oh... Luz was the worst. She already knew his reactions to being touched before going into this, so she made sure to do it as much as possible. sitting herself right next to him and swaying side to side so sometimes she'd brush up against Amity, and sometimes brush up against him, and she was single handedly the reason why he was getting used to people touching his arms.

But then she kept upping the game. Dramatically insisting that He was too cool for this or that dumb game that she clearly just wanted him to agree to play, putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing her cheek to his, and wathcing his brain promptly shut off as he reeled over how squishy her cheek was against his. sitting o the couch as he sat on the floor, and grabbing his head, tilting him back so that his head was essentially in her lap and smiling like the cat that ate the screamerfly at his reaction as she told him something or another he suddenly couldn't pay attention to. She even got Eda involved when she appeared briefly downstairs! She called in some sort of 'owe' and Eda pulled him aside, looking put upon and sighing.

And he didn't almost cry when the Owl Lady wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him to her chest. He didn't. Her gem dug into his forehead and her nails were long and sharp as she gently brushed them through his hair, and he'd somehow never felt so protected in all of his life, the downy feeling of feathers that still clung to her dress and the soft silver hair that brushed against him in odd places, and he only put his arms around her middle and squeezed back because it was the polite thing to do. Her chin brushed the crown of his head and-.... he just didn't know he was allergic to feathers until then, okay? It just also happened to feel really really good and he didn't want to let go. That was unrelated.

Hours had passed, he'd been shocked with physical affection enough times today that he could barely remember what they'd been doing the entire night, his memory only clinging to those moments where his brain had been so thoroughly flooded with endorphins that the rest of the night was a blur.

And he HAD to go back to is room. He wouldn't be able to sleep at all in the little 'cuddle puddle' Luz and the others had arranged. If he was so distracted by which body parts were in contact with other body parts sleep would elude him entirely, and sure he used to rarely sleep at all, but that was by choice back then!

But he-

He couldn't detangle himself.

Willow used his stomach as a pillow, he watched her head rise and fall with his breaths and felt the whisper of her fluffy hair against the smallest sliver of skin where his shirt had ridden up a bit. Gus and King were curled up to one side, Gus using his shoulder as a cushion and King beside his head. Viney had grabbed his arm in her sleep and clung to it like a stuffed animal. Barkus curled up in the space between his legs and Jerbo was using HIM as a pillow. if he even moved either of his legs one or both of them would be disturbed.

And Luz of course was curled up on his other side. a hand thrown across his shoulders and breathing softly into his neck. Amity was cuddled up behind her with her arms on her waist, and she was using his other arm as her own pillow.

He was effectively buried under the entire sleepover.

The pressure of others resting on top of and near him, the softness, the warmth, he didn't even need a blanket for all the heat the other bodies were providing. A shiver crawled up his spine as Luz hummed in her sleep and he could feel it in his chest as she did so. and Hunter had to concede defeat because this felt too damn good to even want to try and pull away.

--

Eda walked in about an hour after to a silent living room save for periodic snoring, she nursed a mug of Apple blood as she inspected the effective dogpile atop of the former Golden Guard.

Wow, it was days like this where it was really damn obvious how young the kid was. She could see even from here the freshly drying tear tracks on the boy's face, all that from just some cuddling? Sure Eda wasn't the best with handling physical affection either but she hadn't cried from something like that.... ever. (though if they managed to save Raine from whatever it was Belos did to them Eda couldn't be certain that that record would keep)

When Luz had approached her about their newest 'house guest' and insisted that Hunter needed a social circle, and probably just needed affection after living most of his life under Belos' thumb, Eda had assumed that would make him cagey and aggressive at the idea of being treated softly. But... eh... She supposed people always had a tendency to surprise you.

"Gettin' soft Owl Lady..." She muttered to herself as she approached the top of the cuddle pile and placed a hand on the boy's forehead, moving just slightly to comb some of his hair from his face. Hunter let out a quiet whimper but didn't stir. She watched as a sleepy smile lit up the boy's face.

--

Send me stuff

[slafkovskys]

just like your momma / o. lindmark

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from lady by brett young

warning! brief mentions of labor and childbirth

-

slivers of light pour from the house behind you, illuminating the scene in front you as the sun had set hours before. you sigh as your feet push through the water, hands pressing against the old wood of the dock as you lean forward. besides the frogs croaking along the bank and the moon high above you, you were alone, left to your thoughts.  

the creaking of the boards behind you causes you to jump, whipping your head around quickly. owen pauses, smiling sheepishly as he holds up two cans. you shake your head before turning back around, silent as he sits down beside you.

“my apologies,” he mumbles, holding out a can for you.

“i can’t, owen, but thank you,” you send him a grin before looking down into your lap. you pull on the drawstring of your sweatpants while he tilts his can against his lips.

“what’s going on, y/n?” he asks, looking out over the lake. you turn to look at him and he diverts his eyes to you before shrugging and turning away, “you’ve been, i don’t know, weird this week. plus, i have never seen you turn down a drink.”

“i’m pregnant,” you announce, getting it over with. he inhales sharply and you nod, “i’m new to this, but i do know that alcohol isn’t the best thing for me right now.”

“oh shit,” he whistles and you hum. he takes another sip from his can. he clears his throat, “is it, um, the dad-”

“yep.”

“is he gonna-”

“nope,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes, “as a matter of fact, he made a phone call immediately after i told him, and now he’s got his parent’s lawyers drawing up the papers to sign away his rights as quickly as possible. he didn’t even consider it, being a father that is.”

“okay,” you hear the aluminum of his can hitting the surface of the dock. he sighs, “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry, owen? you have no reason to be. it’s not your fault that i’m knocked up by some asshole at twenty,” you turn to him to find him looking out over the lake just as you had been. “hey,” you call, “are you mad at me?”

“no, god no. why would i be mad at you, y/n? i’m mad at him. i’m just trying to convince myself why it would be a bad idea to drive to his house and beat him up,” he scoffs, looking at you. “not coming up with any cons to that. what about you?”

“it would make me really upset if you got caught,” you send him a soft smile, “and, plus, he’s not worth it.”

“still, he’s an asshole,” he shakes his head. he seems to be thinking for a moment before he speaks again, “that’s why you’ve been acting different, huh?”

“what do you mean?” you lift your feet out of the water and rest them on the dock, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head on your knees.

“this week, you’ve been different. you haven’t been wakeboarding, jumping off the boat, doing the stupid stuff with us like you usually do. i saw you with drinks, but, now that i’m thinking about it,  i never saw you drink out of them.”

“my baby will not be born knowing what a white claw tastes like,” you announce and he chuckles. you sigh, “guess i wasn’t as good at acting normal as i thought i was then.”

“i mean, i probably would’ve caught on at some point, but now that you’ve told me, a lot of things are making sense,” he says and you smile.

“gotcha-” you cut yourself off with a yawn. you scratch out your legs before pushing yourself up, “i think that i’m going to go to bed. i’ve been out here for a while.”

“okay, see you in the morning,” he calls after you as you head towards the house.

you close the door behind you and head to your room down the hall. you changed out of your clothes into something looser and more comfortable before sliding into bed. you closed your eyes and waited for unconsciousness to consume you, but it never did.

you tossed and turned for what felt like hours, but when you turned to look at the clock, it had only been thirty minutes. with a sigh, you push the covers off of your body and leave your room. the house was darker now, a couple of lights still on in case someone got thirsty or needed the bathroom during the night. you grip onto the banister as you ascend, heading for owen’s room.

you push open the door and quietly slip inside. you pad over to the bed to find him taking up most of it, arms and legs splayed out. you push his arm aside as you slide in and even though you try to be quiet, he lets out a groan, “y/n?”

“were you asleep?” you whisper, turning on your side to face him.

“no, i just got back in here,” he lies easily, rolling onto his side. he peaks open his eyes which you’re barely able to make out, “what’s going on?”

“i’m scared owen,” you admit, pulling on the covers to go above your shoulders, “i’m really fucking scared.”

“you’re keeping it, yeah?” he asks, reaching a hand out and rubbing your arm. you bite your lip and nod. he hums, “then i promise you now, you have nothing to be worried about. you’re not gonna go through this alone. no matter what, i’m here for you. you always have me.”

“you promise,” you let him pull you closer and you curl against his chest.

“i promise.”

-

what floor are you on?

you read the text a few times before you respond: why?

because y/n i’m standing in the lobby and everyone is looking at me funny

they’re gonna get security any minute and i’m telling them your name

i won’t go down alone

you sigh before sending him a ‘4’ and waiting for his response. he liked the message and didn’t respond causing you to press the side button on your phone and drop it in your lap. you turn your head towards the frosted door and wait for a figure to approach.

he wasn’t actually here, was he?

it took a minute or two before a distorted figure approached and pulled open the door. the brunette walks in and your mouth drops. he sees you and smiles, walking over to take the empty seat beside you, “good morning.”

he was.

“why are you here?” you look at him bewildered. it was barely ten o’clock in the morning and you knew that he had a lecture. a lecture that started thirty minutes ago and was almost five hours away.

“you thought that i was going to find out the gender over facetime?” he lets out a ‘psh’ noise and relaxes against the chair. “c’mon y/n. it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“owen, you’re supposed to be in a lecture right now and you-  madison is so far away. what time did you leave?” you ask him, suddenly very concerned. “are you gonna get in trouble?”

“i talked to my professor last week and after i explained what was going on, she said it was okay for me to miss a class. i also have to tell her what you’re having,” he reaches over to rub a hand over your bulging stomach. “and i left before four, somehow managed to beat traffic, and surprise you.”

“i’m definitely surprised,” you say, crossing your legs and turning your body towards his. his hand still rests on your belly as he scrolls through his phone. it wasn’t as if you minded because honestly, you’d grown used to it. “what about practice?”

“y/n, stop worrying. i’ve got all my bases covered. i’m good,” he looks at you with eyes that you want to believe were telling you the truth. he looks back down at his phone, “oh, but on the off chance that you do get a call from coach, you’re eight months pregnant and think that you’re having contractions. okay?”

“owen!” you whisper shout just as a nurse pushes open the door and calls your name. you grab your bag and stand, shoving his shoulder as you walk past, “i can’t believe you.”

“just making sure that our story is straight, y/n. geez,” he teases as he rubs his shoulder. he takes your bag before you step onto the scale, throwing it over his shoulder. “what do you have in here?”

“you’re so funny,” you make a face as the nurse charts your weight and leads you into one of the rooms. owen takes a seat in the chair against the wall while you get on the bed, answering the questions as the nurse fires them at you. with a grin, she rolls over to measure your belly. you lift your shirt for her and you hear owen sharply inhale. you look at him confused, “what is it?”

“you just- it just didn’t look that big when you facetimed me the other day,” he says, bewildered at first but he quickly realized what he had said and quickly backtracked, “i didn’t mean big as in big. i meant big as in the baby-”

“i know what you meant owen,” you giggle and so does your nurse. “i’ve just popped since you saw me last. it’s normal.”

“for twenty-two weeks, you’re actually a little bigger than normal which may mean a big baby,” your nurse states and you sigh. “maybe they’ll let us find out what they are today?”

“oh, i hope,” you sigh.

at your last appointment, you had been far enough along to finally find out the gender. your baby, however, had other plans. the way that they were positioned made it impossible to conclusively tell what you were having so you just gave up and decided to wait the extra four weeks to see.

“do we have any predictions?” she asks, rolling the machine over and letting you lean back.

“i just want my baby. i don’t care what they are,” you say as she tucks the paper in the waistband of your leggings to shield them from the gel that would go on your stomach.

“what about you, dad?” she says and the air almost shifts before owen pipes up without missing a beat.

“boy. i want to put him in hockey,” he looks at you knowingly.

“they’ll play if they want to play. he’s not going to be forced,” you don’t mention that owen wasn’t the father, but it weighs heavy in the back of your mind as she flicks off the light and squirts the gel on your stomach.

“let’s see,” she moves the wand around, looking for your baby. she finds them and you can’t help but smile as they show up on the screen. they shift a little and owen whistles. you turn your head and hold out your hand, the nerves suddenly getting to you. he stands quickly and grabs onto your hand as the nurse presses some buttons and chuckles, “well, it looks like you’ll need to start researching co-ed teams.”

“it’s a girl?” you ask for confirmation. she nods and you look at owen who, despite his earlier admission, is staring at the screen with a smile on his face so wide his cheeks have to be hurting. “baby rue,” you whisper and owen squeezes your hand.

the nurse lets you hear the heartbeat before taking some pictures and flicking the light back on. the black and white picture of your baby, your daughter, was still on the screen and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as she cleaned the gel from your stomach and raised you back up. “your doctor will be here in a few minutes to talk to you, alright? congratulations!”

“thank you!” you say as she walks out of the door.

as soon as the door shuts fully, owen squats down and gets right beside your stomach, “hey buddy, can i still call you that? thank you for letting us finally see what you are. i hope your stubbornness doesn’t transfer when you’re born. you're bigger than you should be which i guess is a sign your mom’s feeding you good? anyway, i can’t wait to see you, rue, and i love you so much and so does your mom.”

his lips press to the side of your stomach and you sniffle, causing him to look up. “my hormones are out of whack, owen. you can’t make fun of me.”

“i wasn’t gonna,” he chuckles, leaning over to kiss the side of your head. “besides if anyone should be emotional, it’s me. i had fifty bucks on this baby being a boy and now i’ve got to pay cole.”

before you can scold him for betting on your child’s gender (though you're not surprised that he did), your doctor walks in and makes you forget about it. thirty minutes later, you’re walking out of the office building with a strip of sonogram pictures and your next appointment. you give one to owen and you didn’t miss him carefully placing it in his wallet after he got into his car or when he took you out for breakfast, staring at it when he slid his card out to pay.

-

“did you even shower?” you ask as you pull away from owen’s embrace. “i haven’t gotten sick since the first trimester but i genuinely think that you’re bringing it back.”

“you know exactly where to hit me where it hurts don’t you,” he shakes his head, fixing the beanie on top of his obviously wet hair. “i did, actually. ask cole.”

“don’t ask me anything,” cole shakes his head, holding your phone in his hand. “now smile, pretend like you're happy to see each other. rue’s done eight months hard time and it needs to be documented, i was told.”

“eight months?” owen asks as you wrap an arm around his waist and he throws one of his around your shoulder.

“i’m not gonna see you when i hit eight so we’re rounding. now, happy face,” you smile towards cole and owen sighs before doing the same. cole takes a few pictures as you’d instructed before handing you your phone back. “thanks cole!”

“anytime,” he smiles before looking towards owen who was leaning against the wall beside you, “are you sure that you don’t want to go out with us?”

you look up at owen who was busy sending cole a death glare. you nudge his side with your elbow, “you don’t have to stay in just because i’m here, owen. you should go out and celebrate with your teammates.”

“what about you though?” he tugs you gently into his side, leading you towards the door with cole following a few steps behind.

“i’m twenty-one years old, owen. i can get myself back to your apartment just fine. i’m tired anyway. i’ll probably take a shower and crash immediately afterward,” you shrug.

“please don’t use the word crash,” he grumbles as he opens your car door for you. you shake your head and slip into the driver’s seat. he leans in, “are you sure? i don’t mind coming home with you.”

“go have fun. i’ll be there when you get back,” your cheeks burn as he places a kiss on the top of your head. “don’t do anything stupid.”

“you know me,” he chuckles before shutting your car door. he waves his hand before heading off in the opposite direction.

you sigh before starting your car and putting it in drive, pulling away from kohl center. of course you had planned on owen coming back to the apartment with you, but you weren’t going to stop him from going out and having fun just because you couldn’t.

that wasn’t fair to him nor was it right of you.

the drive back to his apartment wasn’t bad considering that most of the game traffic was gone. you went straight up to his floor and practically collapsed onto the couch after depositing your stuff onto the kitchen table.

you run your hand over your stomach as her foot nudges your side. you grin, “shouldn’t you be sleeping rue?”

as if she could hear you, she shifts around before stilling. you sigh, looking around the apartment. it was obvious that four college boys lived in it, based on the posters and the dishes that were in the sink when you had arrived yesterday. even though you had only been able to visit a handful of times since they had moved in, there were little touches of you dotted around. some examples being the sonogram duct-taped (directly beside a perfectly capable magnet but “we wanted it to stay”) to the refrigerator door, the scrunchie on the counter that hasn’t moved since you forgot it there two months before, and the silver ‘it’s a girl’ balloon that hung off-center above the couch.

and in owen’s room, which you had pushed yourself up off the couch to retire to, was an obvious sign that you had been here. the body pillow splayed across his bed because you couldn’t sleep on your back anymore, the perfume bottle you left on his dresser just in case you forgot yours back home, the purse that you keep forgetting to grab from his door handle when you leave, all evidence of how you had integrated into his life so quickly, so easily.

your shower was as quick as you could make it and after brushing your teeth, you slip under owen’s warm comforter. it was strange not having him there beside you. you had grown accustomed to it actually, him running his hand through your hair as you slipped peacefully into unconsciousness as he tells some story about something that had happened in the locker room. the bed felt empty, cold.

i shouldn’t have told him to go.  

you shake your head at the thought before closing your eyes, hoping to drift off quickly. unfortunately, that doesn’t happen and you toss and turn for another hour. you weren’t sure what time it was when you heard someone enter the apartment, but you wouldn’t be lying when you said that you got a nervous feeling when a single set of footsteps approached owen’s bedroom.

you shut your eyes, like that would ward off an intruder, as the doorknob twists and someone walks in. there was a sigh, a familiar one thankfully, as you hear him slip off his shoes. it takes a minute before a weight drops down onto the bed and a hand touches the covered skin of your stomach.

“hi rue,” his voice is gentle as it always was when he talked to her, “it’s me, owen, but i hope that you would know that by now. you’ve grown a lot since i last saw your mom which isn’t a bad thing, keep doing that.

“mom says that you’re making her back hurt and giving her heartburn. i know that you can’t help it, but if you could lay off of her a little bit i think she would like that a lot. also, the braxton-hicks, rue i know that you want to come out, but you’re not ready yet. your mom has done a good job being your home and i know that it’s getting cramped in there, but you just need to hang out in there for a little longer, okay? we both want to meet you really bad, but we want you to be healthy when we do, deal?”

you raise a hand to run through his hair. he looks up and you grin, “you’re sweet.”

“and you were awake that whole time?” he asks and you nod. he shakes his head, “this is an a and b conversation, so if you could c yourself out of it, it would be much appreciated.”

“what are you, thirteen?” you giggle and he stands up. you rest your hands under your head, watching as he starts to change out of the suit. you can’t stop yourself before the words spill from your mouth, “our daughter is lucky to have you.”

he freezes and so do you. you quickly try to backtrack, “no, i didn’t-”

“don’t apologize,” he pulls a pair of sweatpants up his legs before turning to face you, “i want to be that for her. if you’ll let me, of course.”

“be- be what?”

“her dad. her father figure at least,” he stands beside his bed and holds out his hand to help you sit upright. he hands you your water bottle before taking up the space across from you, “y/n, i love you. i want to be a family with you and before you say that i’m not thinking, i am. i’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually.”

“owen, i couldn’t ask you to do that,” you shake your head, playing with the lid of your bottle. “you’re nineteen. your career has barely begun. you don’t want to be a dad right now.”

“i didn’t until you got pregnant and now,” he shakes his head before tentatively reaching for your hand, “i can’t imagine not being in her life. i want to dress up in tutus and tiaras, have tea parties, or even teach her hockey if she wants. i want to be her dad and i have never wanted anything more.”

“it doesn’t bother you that she’s not yours?” you ask, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand.

“it used to, i’m not going to lie, but in every way except biological, i feel like she’s mine. i’m the one who’s gone with you to your appointments. i’m the one who felt her kick for the first time. i helped you pick out names. i’m the one who even put together her crib.”

and he had. the thing was, you hadn’t even asked him to do that. you woke up from a nap one day to find him not beside you but instead across the hall with a half-assembled crib and a confused expression on his face. “this is gibberish,” he held out the directions for you to read over.

your stomach turns again and you were positive it wasn’t your daughter kicking you. it was a feeling you had never felt before. it was good, so fucking good though. owen wanted your baby, wanted her to be his, to be yours together. he wanted to raise her as if she was his own and, just as he said, in every way that meant something, she was.

you look up at him, “you can’t change your mind. i know that i have no idea what i’m doing, but i want her to have stability. if you’re going to be her dad, you don’t get to pick and choose when you get to act like it. it’s a forever type of commitment, owen.”

“i am aware of that y/n,” he smiles, “you don’t have to give me an answer tonight. i know it’s a big decision and it’s completely up to you. i just want you to know that regardless, you both have me. forever.”

“pinky promise?” you whisper and he, without hesitation, hooks his pinky with your own. “oh, um, before i forget, ryder asked if i would make breakfast in the morning. do you have any requests?”

“he asked you to make us breakfast?” he raises his eyebrows and you nod. “does he know that you’re seven months pregnant?”

“i would be very surprised if he hadn’t noticed.”

-

it happened so quick, labor did.

one minute, you were on your ball pleading with your daughter to make a move and the next, you're frantically trying to get a hold of owen who was minutes away from hopping on a plane to boston.

he barreled through the door a few hours later, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled, and suddenly everything felt right as he approaches the bed.  

“how are you?” he asks, grabbing onto your hand when you reach out for him. his lips press to your sweaty forehead.

“i feel fat,” you mumble, joking a little bit.

“baby, you’re gorgeous-”

“i didn’t say i was ugly owen, i said that i was fat,” you deadpan. his face flushes and you crack a small grin, “i’m just messing with you. lighten up.”

“how can you joke right now?” he looks at the monitors that you were hooked up to. “how far dilated are you?”

“seven centimeters. i was four when i came in so she’s progressing pretty well,” you squeeze his hand as another contraction hits. he breathes with you through it, assuring you how good you were doing. “contractions are very close together now and she should be back to check me again in like twenty minutes or something.”

he runs a hand through your hair, “can i get you something? a snack? some water?”

“the only thing i can have is ice chips in case something goes wrong or she doesn’t want to come naturally and they have to-” you trail off, both of you knowing what you were referring to.

“so, we wait.”

and you didn’t wait very long.

four hours later, her cries filled the room as she entered the world. you look at owen in shock as they lay her on your chest to find him crying. you look down at your daughter, “hello, sweet girl.”

“i’m so proud of you,” owen presses his lips to the top of your head before he’s handed the scissors. he follows the nurse over to where they carry your daughter to wrap her up while the nurses tend to you.

once you’re finally left alone with her, owen sits beside you on the bed, holding her close to his chest. “i’ve never loved and i will never love anyone even a fraction as much as i love you.”

“thank you for being with me,” you mumble, watching as the pacifier bobs between her lips as she sleeps, “and her.”

“i didn’t have anywhere else to be,” he grins and you swat at his thigh. he grins at you before looking down at the baby in his arms, “so, what’s the final name decision mama?”

“maya ruby,” you pause, resting your head on his shoulder, “lindmark.”

his grin grows impossibly wider, “i like that sound of that.”

[bound-up-feelings]

Station Inspector x reader

The Regular

Requested: @ass-master-garfield

Warning: Fluffyness, slight, slight sliver of angst (if you squint)

(Hey! So this is what I'm gonna start out with this week. I hope you like this and please do give feedback. I need it. Also hey to everyone please send in request whenever you'd like!) Also if you read closely you'll see a small joke in the fic!)

You had been working at the station for a long time now. You had your own little shop that was given to you by your grandmother when you had turned 21. You were very grateful that she did. All her other grandchildren didn't care for her little pastry shop. It may had been small at the time, but over the years of working on it and really making an effort, it had become one of the most liked shops in the train station.

Hugo was one of the regulars that came by, no he didn't have any money but he was just a boy without a family, trying to fix things. You knew Hugo and his father before he had died. Hugo considered you as the closest family he had other than his uncle, which never looked after him. So he came to you everyday, same time and the same request. Two warm chocolate ship cookies, just pulled from the oven. Sometimes on occasion he would stick around for a glass of milk but that never lasted long, he did have things to do.

The other regular, though you wouldn't call him a regular per say, was the station inspector. He was always nice to you, greeting you through the always open door as he would walk by with his Doberman by his side. You always greeted him back and always said hello to his dog as well. It never mattered how nice you were or how understanding you were towards him, he always seemed to be so embarrassed by his leg. He'd walk in and greet you but when he would bend his leg just a bit it would get stuck in place. Having to manually fix the problem always made him clench his jaw, his cheeks go red and dismiss himself from the shop. You wanted to tell him it was ok and that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. But you never got the chance, for he would always be out of the shop faster then you could open your mouth.

Today was no different. First Hugo comes by for his annual cookies and surprisingly a small cup of milk. Which did not last long and then he was off yet again to fix whatever was calling his name. Then not long passes and there is the station inspector. He stops by and waves. You wave back "Hello inspector! How's your day so far?" He walks inside and stops infront of your counter "It is fine. Nothing interesting yet, but I am certain something is out of place. Maximilian has been suspicious lately." "Is that right? Well I hope you figure out whatever it is." He nods his head and leans slightly to talk to max. "You know, I hope I'm not intruding on your work, but perhaps you'd like to sit down and have a pastry?" He looks at you as he is still leaned over. Smiling slightly he comes back up. "I thank you Ms. L/n, but I have left my money in my home. I'm sorry but thank you for your kindness." He says as he nods your way "No please, you don't have to pay. I want you to have a pastry, no charge at all." He smiles and looks away blushing slightly. "I guess I can sit for a moment. I do need to be able to sit my leg up, if thats posdible?" "Of course give me a moment." You say as you walk around the counter, placing a chair next to a small round table and matching chair. He walks over and sits while propping up his leg. "What you you like inspector? A cookie, piece of cake or pie? I have everything under the moon!" You say as you look at him with a smile. He smiles back (The snack that smiles back) "What do you suggest?" "Well the one thing my shop is known for is the apple pie. Would you like a slice of it?" He nods his head. You walk to the back of the counter and grab a fresh pie. Cutting it in a nice slice you then put it on a plate with a fork. And turn towards the inspector. When you get there you place it on his table. "I hope you enjoy it inspe-" "Gustave." "Oh...well Gustave I hope you enjoy the pie!" He nods his head and grabs his fork. You turn away and go behind the counter again. You lean down to grab a baggie full of dog treats you had gotten the other day. "Gustave do you allow your dog to have treats? Dog treats that is?" You don't hear a response and you come back up from under the counter. You see him looking at his place as if it had just insulted him. "Gustave? Is everything all right, is something wrong with the pie?" He shakes his head immediately "No of course not! The pie is absolutely amazing, its just its been a long while since I've had apple pie. Before i went to war, I would visit my mother-" He says as he situates himself on the chair better. You pull a chair to sit next to him as he continues "-and she would always have a fresh apple pie waiting. She never knew I was coming most of the time but she would always have one ready. It never ceased to suprise me how amazing it was. This pie, here in front of me reminds me of my mother." He says as he gives a real genuine smile. "Is that how you hurt your leg? In the war?" He nods his head "You know, I lost family in the war. I have no idea what you struggle with but I just want you to know that I'm here and if you want to talk about anything, you have me." You say as you place your hand on his. His hand was open on the table but when he felt your small one grab his, he closes his hand on yours. His thumb glides over your knuckles. "Thank you." You smile.

You both spent at least twenty minutes just talking about stuff here and there that caught interest. He was an easy person to talk to and he liked to talk about the little things. But then he looked at his clock and saw the time "Oh my, it seems time has flown by quite fast! I must be off now, thank you very much for your kindness and the pie was amazing, good day Ms. L/n." He says as he grabs Maximilian's leash. Before he gets out the door you come up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder "Inspector Gustave, have a wonderful rest of your day." You say as you lean in to kiss him on the cheek. His eyes widen slightly "Good day inspector!" You walk back to your counter to prepare for the afternoon. He walks away from your shop, hand on his cheek. Smiling like a child who received candy. He makes a mental note to come by again tomorrow with flowers. Suddenly his dog pulls at the leash and starts barking. "Why must you ruin this moment?" He says with a pointed look in the dogs direction. He then follows max where ever he was leading him.

(Hey again, so like I said if you like this please give me some feedback, it helps. Requests are always open! Have an amazing day and stay strong!)

[muertawrites]

Hey! I absolutely loved your Zuko x reader one host you wrote, and I was wondering if you could do one where Zuko and the reader barely talk, but she’s part of Azula’s friend group. At the beach some stuff happens, and Zuko finds out she’s not as crazy as he thought she was. Kind of angst. I totally understand if you can’t, or don’t feel like it! I hope you’re safe and healthy, and everything is going well. Thank you!

From Eden (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,776 (FUHREEDOM MOTHERFUCKERS 🎆🦅🦅🦅 🎆 )

Author’s Note: Ok this request is P E R F E C T. I don’t think I need to tell anyone I love the psychology of this show, but I love the psychology of this show - especially with Zuko and his relationship with himself and others. And this episode??? Ohhhhhh I have some THINGS. TO. SAY. about this episode. I have been in this boy’s place and I feel 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 him 👏🏻 he 👏🏻 deserves 👏🏻 better 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. I went in a sliiiiiiightly different direction, but I didn’t drastically change it (it turned out cute I think). Also, I named this “From Eden” because as I was writing it reminded me of the Hozier song. I’m such a sucker for a Broken Babe™, especially when the babe in question has a lot of personal growth and learns to love because of it. Thank you so much for this, anon, you’re absolutely gorgeous and I hope you’re keeping safe and healthy as well ❤ 

~ Muerta 

(Also, if you’d like to request something, I have a list of prompts tagged! Feel free to ask for anything from fics to headcanons to imagines - I’m also open to new character suggestions!) 

“Hey.”

Zuko sat on the porch of his family’s old vacation home, his mind miles away. Your greeting made him snap his head towards you, glowering down at where you stood at the base of the front steps. You crossed your arms, responding to his gaze with a defiant glare. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“To have normal friends,” you spat in reply. “Seems I’m stuck with you instead.” 

A few hours ago, Zuko almost made a crater in the beach from the campfire you, his sister Azula, and your friends Mai and Ty Lee had started a screaming match around. Insults were flung, tears were shed, and skeletons were evicted from closets, all resulting in your realization that maybe political survival wasn’t worth the dysfunction of constantly being surrounded by a sociopath and her cronies. Pretending to have a super fun sleepover with them back at the guest house was proving to be too much for your fragile sense of self-containment, and you weren’t quite friendly enough with your newfound death wish to tell Azula how you really felt about her, so you went where you knew it would be quiet. You didn’t expect to find Zuko and his anger issues there a second time, but he honestly didn’t scare you - you’d take his obvious rage over Azula’s subtle calculations any day. 

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Zuko jeered. “You’re just as emotionally fucked as the rest of them.” 

“Ty Lee’s got herself pretty much under control, despite her gullibility,” you answered cooly. “Also, if you really wanna talk about emotionally fucked, I’m not the one who almost roasted my ex-girlfriend alive earlier.” 

Zuko furrowed his brow at you, leaning forward as if to challenge you. You stayed exactly as you were, regarding him with a hard, unimpressed expression that revealed just how little he intimidated you. You couldn’t bend and weren’t a trained fighter - you knew he knew this, and that he wouldn’t actually attack you, despite how convincing he tried to make his empty threat appear. After a long, intense moment of wrinkled foreheads and competitive frowning, he backed off with a sigh, leaning back against the pillar behind him. 

“So, what, you want to come and make peace? Talk it out or something?” 

You shook your head, climbing the steps and lowering yourself onto the second highest; just below him, with a few feet between you as a courtesy. 

“The last thing I want to do is talk about that dumpster fire on the beach,” you told him. “I just needed some time alone. But, since I found you, I guess it’s a good time to ask if you’re okay.”  

Zuko looked you up and down, a confused and partially concerned look on his face. You half expected him to raise the back of his hand to your forehead to check for fever. 

“What do you care if I’m okay or not?” he asked bitterly. “We’re not friends.” 

“Zuko, I’ve known you since I was a toddler,” you said. “I’d say we’re friends. It’s not like anyone else really is.” 

“Mai is my girlfriend,” Zuko snapped at you. “She’s the best friend I have!” 

“Mai dumped you for being a possessive asshole,” you deadpanned, “then she let her best friend convince you to commit arson. Friends don’t let their friends’ sisters manipulate them into felonies.” 

Zuko huffed, slumping back defeatedly. 

“You can’t act like Azula’s never made you do anything you didn’t want to,” he grumbled. 

“I don’t,” you replied shortly. “I’ve just stopped caring about making her like me, since she really doesn’t like anyone. She doesn't get under my skin like she used to when we were kids.” 

You noticed Zuko’s lips curl upwards into the ghost of a smile. You mirrored him, leaning your arms atop your upright knees. 

“What?” you asked. 

Zuko chuckled faintly, shaking his head. 

“Nothing,” he responded. “You just… Do you remember when you were eight, and Azula teased Ty Lee about being too slow climbing the trees in our courtyard?” 

Your eyes widened in realization, your mouth parting into a wide smile as you let out a gasp of hysterical laughter. 

“Oh, that was awful!” you cried, though the memory only brought more fits of giggles to your gut. “I was such a little brat!” 

Zuko was laughing with you too now, arms wrapped over his stomach as he tried to speak between breaths. 

“It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed. “Watching her fall out of the tree like that, the shock on her face, and then I caught you with the knife and saw where you cut the branch... She deserved it. You should give her a taste of her own medicine like that more often.” 

You blushed, looking away from him as your laughter died down. 

“Now she could kill me if she wanted,” you said. “I try not to say or do anything around her if I can help it.” 

“... Is that why you’ve been so quiet since then?” 

You nodded. 

“She beat me up when she found out what I did,” you explained. 

You stood, pulling down the waist of your sarong to reveal the burn scar on your right hip. Zuko’s eyes burst with shock at first, wondering exactly why you’d be disrobing in front of him, his expression softening when he saw the mark Azula left. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Most brothers feel like they should protect their little sisters. I always felt like I should’ve protected all of you from her.” 

“You did,” you assured him. You sat back down beside him, closer this time, so that your hips almost touched. “I remember you jumped in front of her once when she threatened us. And that time…” 

Your voice faded, the memory almost bringing tears to your eyes. You couldn’t figure out why. 

“You hid from her,” Zuko finished your thought. 

You nodded. 

“You let me hide in your room,” you recalled. “Remember? Azula punched me. I ran to the first quiet place I could find and accidentally went to your room.” 

Zuko hummed. 

“You were crying,” he added, “and your eye was all red and swollen.” 

“You held me.” 

Zuko’s eyes fixed on you. He didn’t say anything, though he remembered; you burst through his half open door, sniffling, tears and spittle running down your cheeks and chin. It was the first time Azula had actually, physically hurt you, and you were terrified and confused. He asked if you were okay, and you shook your head. Being so young, the only thing he could think to do was hug you, since that’s what his mother did to make him feel better, and you clung to him, sobbing into his shirt and using his much bigger body for protection. After that day, he let you use his bedroom as a hiding place whenever Azula got to be too much - until she found out about it and started teasing you about wedding dresses and baby names. 

“We were friends,” you breathed. “I wish we still were.” 

There was a long silence in which the two of you stared out at the horizon, down the steep hill leading to the vacation house and into the ocean. The moon hung in a small sliver, barely flickering across the calm waters that rocked below; you could hear the gentle rush of waves as they crawled over the sand and shrunk back into themselves, creating a calming din that echoed up to where you sat. 

“... I still remember your favorite game to play with me,” Zuko said into the warm air between you. “Those times you hid in my room. You used to pretend to be a Kyoshi warrior. My mom gave you one of her old fans and we’d jump on and off my bed, trying to catch each other.” 

You grinned. 

“I would wrap myself around your legs to keep you from walking,” you recalled. 

Zuko laughed. 

“I loved that,” he admitted. “It used to make me laugh so hard when we were kids.” 

He looked over to you, and you turned to face him as well. The anger in his eyes was gone completely, in its place a warm, steady sadness that made you ache. 

“I miss you,” he whispered. 

You reached cautiously for his hand, relieved when he slid his fingers between yours and gripped your palm tightly. 

“I miss you, too,” you replied. “I’m sorry I let Azula drive me away from you.” 

Zuko wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. Your hands latched together on either side of his back, gripping into his shirt a little bit as you buried your face in his shoulder. He felt and smelled the same as he did when you were little; hard like the walls of a sturdy house and sweet like the last embers in a fireplace.

You didn’t know how long you held each other, but when you broke apart, you sat together for ages, existing in silence on the steps of his childhood house and beside one another. You felt small again, but in the best way - you felt like the girl who was brave enough to cut through the branches of a maple tree so your tormenter would fall out of them. 

“I want to run away,” you blurted. “I could be someone totally different if I weren’t stuck here.” 

“If you do, I’ll go with you,” Zuko said. “We can be different people together.” 

You grinned, leaning your shoulder against his. 

“We could move to Kyoshi Island,” you suggested. “I’m too old to start warrior training now, but we could start a business. Open an inn or something.” 

Zuko chuckled at the thought. 

“I’ll call myself Lee,” he mused, “and you can go by Izumi.” 

“Maybe we could be married. And we could adopt orphan children and cats.” 

“Just cats. You can’t emotionally destroy a cat like you can with a kid.” 

You glanced over at him, noticing the hard gleam in his eye. You wrapped your arms around his bicep, holding him close to you. 

“You’re not your father, Zuko,” you whispered. “You don’t want to be.” 

Zuko nodded. He reached for one of your hands, curling his own around it. 

“... I feel like I am going to leave,” he said, “at some point. When I do… will you stay? So that I have at least one friendly face to come home to someday?” 

You nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I will,” you promised. “And when you do, I’ll give you Azula’s severed head as a homecoming present.” 

Zuko laughed at that. 

{ epilogue }

[loosesodamarble]

Happy Birthday, Inosuke!

Puffs of steam rose from the pot of miso soup that Shizuka stirred as she prepared dinner for that evening. Slivers of daikon and carrot swirled around in the broth. Shizuka set aside the ladle then reached for the tofu on the counter. Just as she tilted the cutting board to slide the tofu in, the kitchen door slammed open and Inosuke burst through.

"Yuzuka!" he exclaimed and bolted towards Shizuka. "You gotta listen to—!"

Shizuka turned, giving Inosuke a nasty look, and hissed, "One step closer and it'll be your fault we have an incomplete soup for dinner."

Inosuke stopped short. His shoulders slumped, as though he were a wilted flower. He waited and watched as Shizuka added the tofu and then wakame. Shizuka lowered the heat on the stove then turned to Inosuke.

"Proceed, Boss," she urged while gesturing forward with her hand.

Inosuke perked up immediately, the smile hidden beneath his mask was still felt. Perhaps it was because Shizuka appealed to him with his favorite nickname or maybe it was because he was free to approach Shizuka. Regardless of the reason, Inosuke closed the distance between himself and Shizuka in a single stride.

"Listen to this, Umeka! You're not gonna believe it!" he exclaimed as he shook Shizuka by the shoulders.

Does he have to shake me every time he's excited for something? As much as it annoyed Shizuka, it entertained her more to experience Inosuke's glee in an admittedly unique way. It gave her a headache though so she had to shrug his hands off. "Tch. What is it?"

"So Gonpachirou, Kanitsu, and I were doing laundry—"

"Why does it matter that you were doing that specifically?"

"Shut up, I'm getting there," Inosuke said before returning to his story. "I was cleaning my underwe—"

"Ew. I know it's yours but I don't want the mental ima—" Shizuka was silenced by Inosuke's hand over her mouth. Oh gods! Why is he doing this? What if someone walks in? The warmth of Inosuke's hand, so calloused and strong, was nothing compared to the heat that rose to Shizuka's face.

"—and as I was cleaning, I realized I could read some of the stuff besides my name on it."

Wait, there's more? Shizuka shuddered at the thought of inspecting undergarments of all things for writing. Since Inosuke hadn't let her go, she raised a brow to press for more information.

"It was 'four,' 'moon,' 'twenty-two,' and 'sun.' I showed it to Ryuujirou and he said that it must be the day I was born!" Inosuke let go of Shizuka's face only to grab her shoulders again. "Can you believe it, Mokuka? I have a birthday!"

"Tch. Well duh, you have a birthday," Shizuka groaned as Inosuke rattled her body. "Everyone has a birth—" Wait. He said it was April twenty-second. That's tomorrow! I have to get him something! "AAAHHH!" Shizuka writhed out of Inosuke's grasp and bolted out the door.

Shizuka heard Inosuke scream after her, "Hey! The hell are you going?! What about dinner?"

"Tch! It should be ready! I can eat later!" Shizuka screeched back. I need to get something perfect for Inosuke!

Shizuka ran like her life depended on it and didn't stop until she reached town and the shopping district. While pausing to breath more relaxedly, she looked around at the shops. A general store, a bookstore, and various other buildings lined the street.

What would Inosuke want? First, I have to go off what I know he likes. Shizuka closed her eyes and crossed her arms. Fighting, training, sleeping, showing off... A frown crossed her features. Not exactly things I can shop for.

Shizuka inhaled deeply. An array of delicious smells entered her nose. She saw an eatery to her left but ignored her growling stomach.

I know he likes tempura. And... Shizuka spotted a pair of women talking out of a store, a folded up article of clothing in one's arms. He prefers cotton fabric when it comes to choosing blankets. Shizuka looked down at her haori. Maybe I should get him something for when it gets colder.

Nodding to herself, Shizuka made a plan.

After having gouged her wallet, Shizuka returned to the Butterfly Mansion. She held her purchases close to her body as she entered the mansion. Tanjirou and Zenitsu would be sure to figure out what she was planning but she would try to keep it a surprise for Inosuke.

The night passed and morning came.

Shizuka scrambled out of bed the second she felt conscious. She wrapped her first present to Inosuke before hurrying to the kitchen to begin prepping the second. The vegetables needed to be washed thoroughly. There was also the shrimp that needed to be shelled. Chopping and actually cooking everything was yet another matter.

Did I go overboard buying twelve kinds of tempura foods? Shizuka wondered while staring at the cluttered counter. Shaking her head, she reassured herself. I'm not going to do this halfway! Not for Inosuke!

Shizuka rolled up sleeves and got to work. For vegetables, there were standard produce like shiso leaves and pumpkin but Shizuka also dared to add broccoli on the suggestion of the seller. The meats of the tempura feast would be shrimp and squid.

"Good morn—What on earth?!"

"Good morning, Kochou-sama," Shizuka greeted over her shoulder.

"Shizuka, what is all this?" asked Shinobu as she walked up to the counter.

"Tch. I think it should be obvious but it's tempura ingredients."

"Tempura?" Shinobu picked up a slice of sweet potato, as if to inspect it. "But why so much?"

"It's Inosuke's birthday so I want to treat him."

A choking sound came from Shinobu before she giggled, "You really are like his wife."

SNAP!

Shizuka stared at the cutting board, snapped in two by her own hand, then glared at Shinobu. The Insect Pillar kept her blithe smile then walked away. It was as though she wasn't guilty of stating something as ridiculous as she had.

Breakfast was prepared by the mansion's staff but Shizuka couldn't let herself take a break. Her work was interrupted however, ironically by the person it was for.

"OI! Nodoka!"

"Yes?" Shizuka moved slowly while gutting the squid she had bought. There was only one so she couldn't afford to mess up. "What is it?"

"Come train with me!"

"Tch. I'm already busy with this."

Inosuke huffed, quite loudly, before stomping footsteps were heard. Then, a hand clamped down on Shizuka's wrists. She locked her body so the knife wouldn't go awry. Looking to Inosuke, Shizuka saw him frowning, not in anger but more petulance.

"C'mon!" Inosuke tugged on Shizuka's wrist. "Let's train!"

Shizuka sighed. She really couldn't turn down a request. "Very well. Just let me wash up first."

"Why bother? You're gonna get sweaty and nasty anyway."

"Tch." Shizuka rolled her eyes. "The mess from cooking and the mess from training are different."

"Whatever."

Training with Inosuke, Tanjirou, Zenitsu, and Kanao lasted longer than Shizuka had anticipated. Midmorning turned to afternoon as the hours passed until the teens collapsed from exhaustion.

Shizuka felt her whole body tremble and her vision swam. Their training wasn't especially intense though. Still, she felt absolutely drained.

"It's time you guys took a break!" a voice called from the door. "Wash up and then come grab lunch!"

Dammit! Shizuka buried her face in her hands. I guess I can have everything prepared for dinner!

A soak in the bath and a hearty meal revitalized the teens, Shizuka most of all. Shizuka finished eating and was prepared to return to the kitchen only for Inosuke to stop her.

"Hey. You're gonna teach me how to read more stuff, got it," he said plainly.

"Inosuke, you can't just demand things from a girl," Zenitsu chided. "Besides, me and Tanjirou can teach you too."

"Well you two suck at teaching!"

"Say that again, you swine!"

"Calm down, guys!" exclaimed Tanjirou as he tried to play peacemaker. "Inosuke, you don't have to be so critical. And Zenitsu, you don't need to be so offended!"

"Tch. Seriously?" I was going to agree anyway. Shizuka glanced at Kanao. The other girl gave a close-eyed smile and shrugged her shoulders.

In the end, Shizuka ended up bringing Inosuke to her borrowed room at the mansion to read through some children's books, courtesy of Shinobu. They sat side-by-side on her bed, the book of focus held between them. They went back and forth reading sentences and if Inosuke ever stumbled, Shizuka would get him back on track. Occasionally, Shizuka would glance at her pillow, under which her gift was hidden.

The reading session lasted until evening due to Inosuke's insistence of reading every book.

"The end," Shizuka said while closing the final book. She looked out the window and at the early night sky. The dinner is going to be late I guess. Her eyes were drawn to the pillow. Shizuka reached a hand under it and slowly slid the wrapped haori out from under.

"Hey, Shizuka."

Immediately, Shizuka's head turned at the sound of her name, her actual name. Inosuke smiled at her, differently than how he usually did. This time, his grin was soft. He slung an arm around Shizuka's shoulders and buried his face in her hair.

Shizuka felt feverish from head to toe. Her heart skipped. Her breath hitched. All because of Inosuke's closeness.

"I know I drag you around a lot but it's 'cause I like spending time with you," Inosuke whispered. "Especially today. It's the first birthday I really got to have. And having you be a part of it was nice. Thanks."

Turning, Shizuka let go of the wrapped gift then embraced Inosuke.

"Anything for you," she whispered back. "Happy birthday, Inosuke."

[ghostdummieideas]

A Grave Mistake 2/?

Part 2 to the Goore series. Thank you Raine and Birdy for Beta reading this chapter!

When you woke up the next morning, you thought the whole cemetery fiasco was a nightmare. Just a silly dream that your brain created to show your anxiety for the recent job. Your eyes scanned to the electric alarm clock on your nightstand: 8:45 AM. First, you need to get a cup of coffee in your system. Second of all, you need to get your reading assignment done today. With a stretch across the bed, you stand up to start your day.  As you stride across the hall, your eyes land on something crumpled in a dirty heap by the entrance of the apartment.

The conquest for coffee was pushed aside as you approached the foreign object. You crouched down and picked up what looked to be a ratty old coat with faded lettering on the back. The remnant of letters read, ‘Woodland Cemetery’. The cemetery. Last night wasn’t a dream. You ran before you finished your first shift.

The thought of the consequences for doing so sent a shiver down your back. In the midst of the chase, the security office never crossed your mind as an option for a sanctuary. Jacket in hand, you scramble through the flat to find your phone. You had two notifications: one missed call and one voicemail, both from your boss. Knowing that you can’t hide from your mistake forever, you have to do the right thing. Gritting your teeth, you unlock the screen to listen to the voicemail.

The old man’s voice crackled on the speaker, “Hey kid, we need to talk. Call me when you’re available”. 

You bopped your phone against your forehead and whined in dismay. “I fucked up. I fucked up, and he’s going to say I’m fired.”

Taking a couple of concentrated breaths, you press ‘call back’, and place the phone against your ear. You hoped the old man would be asleep or busy doing whatever he does in his free time. Your silent prayers were ignored as you heard the familiar blip of the phone being answered. “Hello? Who is this?” your boss’s garbled voice came through.

“Hi boss. I’m so sorry about last night’s shift. I can explain!” Feeling your throat tighten from nervousness, you take a deep breath. When you were ready to explain the corpse man, you stopped. You can’t say that, you’d sound like a lunatic. ‘I ran into this bloody man and he chased me during my shift’ would sound like a sorry excuse that a teenager would use to explain why their homework is missing. “A racoon frightened me and the office didn’t cross my mind when I was running. I’m so sorry.”

The line was silent for a second before a sigh broke the silence. “I saw you running in the camera feed. Look, don’t run off during your shift again. Do you plan on going tonight?”

The question left you stunned. Do you want to come back to the cemetery? He’s not going to fire you for running off. Before you can think, you answered, “Yes, I’ll come to tonight’s shift. Do I come at the same time as yesterday?”

“Yes, same time, same place. See you then. Get some sleep kid. Bye.”

The line dies as your boss hangs up. Your shoulders drop, the death grip on the jacket in your hand loosens. You still have a job. Great. You might run into a corpse man again. Not so great. You walk over to the kitchen, take a seat, and slouch over the table. You’re going to need more than a pot of coffee today.

------------------------------

When your shift rolled around, you walked back to the small trailer in the far right of the field. You pressed the doorbell to alert your boss of your arrival. With a buzz, the door unlocked to let you in. You step into the office and close the door quietly behind you. 

“Hi boss”, you greeted the old man. This time the cue-ball had an aged ball cap on his head. He was also wearing a similar jacket to your own. The rolling chair squeaked as your boss scooted from his desk and stood up. He gave you an indifferent look before he adjusted the cap. “We have a camera knocked on the far back of the place. Some kids knocked them off this morning. Your coworker was able to fix most of the cameras, but we got two more to replace.”

You watched your boss pick up two walkie talkies from the left of the computer monitor. As he shuffled across the room, he stuffed one into his pocket and handed you the spare. "Thanks," you muttered out of politeness before you took the device and stuffed it into your empty pocket. He then walked over to the table next to the door to grab the boxes piled on top. He reached in and grabbed two orange-colored boxes, handing you one of them. Examining the box, you noticed a logo with the word ‘security camera’ printed on the side. 

“We’re going to need a couple items from the storage shed. We’ll need a ladder, screwdriver, and… you still have the flashlight, right?” 

 You fished around in your pockets before you found it, pulling the item out to show him. He nods in approval. Grabbing the massive piles of keys from the lockbox, both of you tread through the grass to the shed. Breaking the silence, you addressed the elephant in the room. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance, boss.” 

Both of you stopped in front of the wooden building with a pad lock blocking the latch. As your boss searched for the right key, he addressed your statement.

“It’s fine, kid,” he sighed. “People usually have a fight-or-flight response and you did what you had to do to stay safe. We commonly associate cemeteries with awful stuff, so I’m not mad at you for running away.”

He unlocked and opened the door to the shed. Without looking back, he clicked the light switch to illuminate the interior. Stuffing his keys in his pocket, he strutted into the building and plucked the materials for the job.

“From your background check, you seem like the type to work hard. You’re not the type to run off and party like some college kids. You have a goal in mind and you’re using whatever is in your arson and you are doing the best you can. It’s hard to find good youngsters like you.” 

This left you at a loss for words. Your impression of your boss differed from your first meeting. The bitter old man, who was courteous enough to leave trash bags in your pocket to make your job easier, now complemented you verbally. A complement you shouldn’t be receiving after last night’s stunt.

After he had gathered everything he needed, your boss stepped out of the shed and locked it behind him. “Take a tool box and ladder for yourself, kid. If anything goes wrong or a vermin chases you off again, you can call me.”

You nodded in agreement, “Yes boss”. 

Tucking the security camera under your arm, you picked up the small ladder and tool box. After confirming where you needed to go, both of you went on your separate ways to fix the damaged property. Lugging the items to the location was one thing, the remains of the previous camera was a bigger problem. Whoever the kids were, they did a magnificent job at smashing the camera from this angle. They knocked it off from the adjustable base that connected to the wall of the building. The smashed camera barely hung from the cable that was tacked to the roof. With a sigh, you put the items down on the ground, picking up the ladder and setting it in place. You reached into your pocket and put the flashlight in place. Turning it on, you rummaged into the toolbox to find a screwdriver. Once successful, you opened up the box to unravel the packaging from the new camera.

Cradling the new camera in the crook of your arm, you climb up the ladder and get to work. Taking the old camera down from the cable wasn’t that bad. Unscrewing the base proved to be a slight problem as one hole was bent from whatever impact it received. An hour later, the new camera was in place and the smashed pieces were sprawled across the grass. 

Once you got down from the ladder you rolled your shoulders to release the tension on your neck. At least that was a pleasant change from being nose deep into your books this morning. Reaching into your pocket, you produced your walkie talkie. Pressing the button on the side, you asked, “Boss ya there?” You waited two seconds before the block crackled back. 

“Yea? You done there?” your boss’s garbled voice reverberated back.

“Yes, I’m done setting up the new camera. I’m going to take a ten here before heading back to the supply shed.”

“I’m in the office. No vermin?”

You briefly paused. Was this a small joke or a genuine concern? “No boss, not a single vermin in sight so far.”

“10-4” he mumbled before the line went silent again. 

Speaking of vermin, you haven’t seen that guy again. A shiver ran down your back at the memory of the zombie. You don’t want to see him again. Not on this shift, not in the future either. 

Stuffing the black brick into your pocket, you took a minor break before you headed back to the shed. Sitting down on the second step of the ladder, you let out a sigh of relief. You tilted your head, rolling your muscles and looking up at the night sky.

The clouds covered the sky, not a single star appeared amongst the sea of gray fluff. Deep down you wished you could see a sliver of the moon or stars. You felt tranquil when you could see them in the night sky. No matter which town you were in, someone from across the country would see the same orb burning in the dark. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one looking up at the same atmosphere. It made you feel less lonely in a time like this.

 A crunch pulls you out of your thoughts. You looked behind to see the last person you wanted to see tonight: The goddamn corpse boy. He had his back towards you, and you immediately went into flight mode, your body flinging itself from your resting spot. The quick movement caused the ladder to topple over and crash into the soft ground.

The man stopped to turn his attention to you. From his hunched position, your flashlight illuminated his face. Fresh blood smeared down from his forehead. Gray paint contoured his cheek and eyes in an unflattering manner. Instead of accentuating his features, it made him look more gaunt. From afar his eyes looked dark and lifeless, devoid of any color. From this distance you couldn’t tell if it was drool coming down his chin, but something other than blood was running down his face.

The man straightened, wiping the spit-like substance off his chin with the back of his hand. You barely noticed his change in stance because all of your attention was focused on the pocket knife held in his bloody hand. With no time to lose, you made a mad dash towards the office.

“NO NO NO NO NO”, you shouted in your desperation to get to the sanctuary. The night was going so peacefully. Why did he have to ruin it? How the hell did he even get a knife? Was he buried with it? Whatever the answer was, you weren't sticking around to find out. 

To not bash yourself into the office door, you use your hands to reduce the impact against your body. You banged on the door, “Boss, let me in! Hurry!” You kept frantically twisting the doorknob, wanting to get in the second it unlocked. 

Once the door opened, you quickly slid inside and shut the door. Chest heaving from the activity, you pressed yourself against the only entrance to the trailer office. Your boss gave you a look of concern as he slightly rolled to the side in his chair.

“Vermin?” he asked questionably. 

“No, there’s a man covered in blood in the cemetery. He has a knife with him so I came running down here” you huffed. 

Your boss cocked his brow, but you could tell from the look in his eye, he didn’t doubt you. He turned back to the monitor and checked the surveillance screen for the guy you described. “The camera you set up is live.. I don’t see anyone there..” he muttered into the hand that propped his chin. You strode over to the side of your boss to examine the screen. Just like he said, the zombie man was nowhere to be found. Deep down, you felt your frustration rise from within you. 

“I’m going to lose my shit because of this zombie fucker,” you groaned under your breath. 

Extra

Mary stood there as he watched the grave worker from the night before scream and run away. His face scrunched in disgust at their rude reaction. “I guess they don’t want a slice,” he shrugged. Knife in hand, he carved another slice of apple and brought the piece to his mouth. Savoring the flavor, he stopped to see the crimson liquid staining the hand holding the knife in red. That’s when he realized, “Ah fuck, I guess that’s why they ran...I guess I should find them and talk with them like an adult.” He paused for a minute before he cackled. “Yeah, as if I can even hold a civil conversation with someone who runs as soon as they see me,” he groaned. With a roll of his eyes, he walked deeper into the cemetery. When he spotted the human-sized dent in the iron fence, he stuffed the remains of the fruit in his mouth and crawled through, exiting the area designated for the dead.

[sheps-shepherd]

Title: Perfectly Perfect 

Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey; Mikleo & Sorey

Rating: T (for non-explicitly implied sexual content)

Written for @sormikweek​ 2020 Day 8: New Moon - New beginnings; Blank page / El Nath - Neutrality for good or evil; Symbolically called the Shepherd

A/N: This is by far my favorite piece that I wrote for the entire week. It's also the piece that started the whole idea to use this week to expand this universe that I'm really excited to build on and share. Expect not only the rest of the week's prompts, but many more independent works from this world.

"This world" being a BBC Merlin AU in which magic is illegal, Mikleo is a sorcerer hiding who he is, and Sorey is a prince living his best sunshine life. In case you haven't heard that spiel already.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

“What if I changed my name?”

Mikleo turned from the spellbook he was reading with a smile on his lips, sure that Sorey would greet him with a matching one. But Sorey wasn’t even looking at him, let alone smiling. He was standing by the window, arm braced against the stone wall above it, staring out into the courtyard with a shadowed look on his face. Mikleo’s smile faded. He’d been catching Sorey with that kind of look on his face more often these days than he liked. 

“Where did that come from?” Sorey offered a half-hearted shrug and stayed silent. Mikleo didn’t buy it for a second. He closed the book and stood from his spot, crossing over to the other side of the window. “Is this about the coronation tomorrow?” Sorey winced like he’d been hit, which was as good as an admission in Mikleo’s eyes. “Sorey, it’s okay to be nervous-” 

“That’s not it,” Sorey said, shaking his head insistently. “It’s not nerves.” 

“Then why have you been thinking about changing your name?” 

Sorey’s jaw worked like he was wrestling with the words inside his mouth. Mikleo waited patiently, leaning against the wall as he watched his prince. 

King, Mikleo mentally corrected himself. Today was the last day that Sorey would be a prince. Although, in Mikleo’s opinion, Sorey had been a king for a long while already; it just hadn’t been official until now. 

“Because I don’t think I can do it.” Mikleo opened his mouth, ready with another protest. But Sorey finally turned to look at him, and the shadows hiding in the green of his eyes made him pause.

Sorey finished, “I don’t think I can take the crown if I still have his name.”

“Sharing his name doesn’t mean anything. You couldn’t be more different than him.”

“I know that. I know that, but….” Sorey squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “Mikleo, I can’t stop thinking about it. And if I can’t stop thinking about it, then how can I expect anyone else to?”

Mikleo reached out, placing his hand on Sorey’s shoulder as gently as he could. The muscle beneath his palm was taut with what he now understood was several days worth of stress and anxiety - this had been on Sorey’s mind for a while, probably ever since Velvet’s abdication.

No. Probably longer than that.

“You’re not Artorius, Sorey,” Mikleo said. The name tasted vile on his lips, and hearing it made Sorey flinch again. “You could never be. The darkness in him didn’t come from his name. It doesn’t work like that.”

“But that’s what I’m talking about,” Sorey argued weakly, cracking his eyes open and peeking back over at him. “It feels like that, doesn’t it? It’s like it’s a curse now. No one wants to say it. No one wants to hear it, and I’m supposed to accept his crown in front of the entire kingdom like I don’t know that’s what everyone watching will be thinking?” He pushed himself away from the wall, away from Mikleo. His hand went up to tangle in his hair. “I won’t do that, Mikleo. I can’t.”

“Sorey,” Mikleo said, as calmly as he could with his heart racing so frantically in his chest. “This is your destiny. You accepting the crown tomorrow was the only thing in Camlann’s history ever meant to be set in stone. And no, not everyone is going to understand that, but you will. You do.”

“But what does knowing that change? That becoming king of the kingdom Arthur broke should make me feel good? That doing it with his name should make me feel proud? Because I don’t feel anything but afraid.” Sorey raked his fingers the rest of the way through his hair, the strands sticking out wildly in their wake. Mikleo had always poked fun about how Sorey’s hair seemed to constantly look some semblance of messy, but there was nothing charming about seeing it that way now. “Arthur wasn’t even my real father, but I’m still destined to get stuck with all his mistakes? I know destiny means a lot to you, Mikleo, but that doesn’t solve anything.”

Mikleo’s magic stirred in his chest. It trembled in the anxious atmosphere that had filled the room like it understood it had become a topic of their conversation. No one knew the burdens that came with destiny as much as Mikleo did. Not even Sorey.

His magic strained against his fingertips. He knew what it wanted to do. He let it.

“You aren’t destined to be stuck with any of Artorius’ mistakes.” Mikleo looked back to the window and felt his magic rush out of him. The latch clicked and the window pane creaked open on purposely rusty hinges. A gust of wind flew into the room, buoyed by the sweep of his magic as Mikleo focused back on his king.

As he expected, Sorey’s eyes were wide; he still got starstruck every time he saw Mikleo’s eyes flash amethyst, even though he’d seen it plenty of times at this point. The breeze blew through Sorey’s hair, righting the strands that had been tousled in his frustrated pulling, circling around his head like a halo until it deemed every piece in its place. It sent his earrings fluttering across his cheeks as it swept down towards his shoulders and dispersed with a flutter of his sleeves. Sorey still stared at him, wonder replacing the shadows that had haunted his eyes. Mikleo stared back.

“You’re destined to fix them.”

Sorey - who was Mikleo’s destiny, and always would be - blinked slowly. Mikleo watched the anxiety bleed out of him, watched as his shoulders dropped and his fingers uncurled and his face softened. He suddenly looked exhausted, but it was better than seeing him look so hopeless.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, okay, that was what I needed to hear. Thanks, Mikleo.” He brought a hand back to his face and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

That sounded more like the Sorey he knew. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I wish you had dumped this on me sooner.” He crossed the room again, and this time Sorey was there to greet him with a hand at his waist and a sheepish smile. “But I should have realized this wasn’t as easy on you as you were making it seem, so I’m sorry.”

Sorey opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again, like he had changed his mind about what it was he wanted to say. “It’s not easy,” he admitted finally, and Mikleo was sure he’d scrapped some kind of I’m fine, don’t worry about me speech. “It’s… been a lot to process. And sometimes it feels like I don’t have enough time to go through it all.”

“You don’t have to go through it all right now,” Mikleo said. “And you don’t have to go through it by yourself, either.” He placed his hand on Sorey’s arm, squeezing carefully. “I know Velvet’s leaving, and I��m not her, but-”

“I don’t want you to be like Velvet.” Sorey reached up to press his other hand against Mikleo’s cheek. “I want you to be you. Who else is going to tell me when I’m in over my head or being too dumb?”

“Velvet, but I see your point.” And his Sorey really was here again, because he threw his head back and laughed. A full, rich sound that made Mikleo think of sunshine - or maybe there were just things about Sorey that still left him starstruck, regardless of how many times he’d seen them. “As long as you’re okay with me taking up that mantle,” he continued once the other’s laughter died down, “I suppose that settles that.”

“I’m more than okay with it.” Sorey cocked his head then, staring at Mikleo with a fond grin on his face. “Sometimes thinking about all the destiny stuff makes my head spin, but I know it’s not all bad. After all, destiny brought me you….” His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he snuck his thumb beneath Mikleo’s fringe of hair, tracing across the skin of his forehead right beneath where his circlet rested. “...Luzrov Rulay.”

Like clockwork, Mikleo’s magic rose to the call. It swirled wildly in his chest, an involuntary spark that shot through his bones. The feeling wasn’t as alarming to him now as it had been when he was young with no idea of where it was coming from, which had resulted in his mother gifting him the circlet in the first place. Mikleo hadn’t felt that terrifying slipping feeling again until he met Sorey, although he eventually realized it wasn’t a rebelling of his magic, but instead an answer. The tampering enchantment he wore did nothing to block Sorey’s voice if he called, and Mikleo’s magic would never ignore their king. It pulsed in his palms, spiked aches in his knuckles on its way down to his fingertips, and then Mikleo felt the tell-tale rush that came with the beginning of a spell.

The window pane swung back and closed itself. The latch clicked. The drapes drew themselves shut with just enough of an opening for a sliver of light to keep the room dimly lit. But Mikleo still saw the stars that twinkled to life in Sorey’s eyes, also like clockwork as his own eyes flickered back to amethyst.

Sorey’s thumb moved again, now tracing a gentle path below his eye, watching intently for the moment the amethyst faded back to his natural blue. “There we go,” he murmured, and his magic sang from the praise as it settled back into his blood where it belonged.

Which then shot up to Mikleo’s face and burned his cheeks. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“You know that I hate it when you use magic around me when I can’t fully appreciate it. It was only fair.”

“I was just trying to remind you.” He cleared his throat. “Which it seems I did.”

“You did.” Sorey’s other hand came up, and he tipped Mikleo’s head back as he properly cupped his face. “You definitely did.”

Sorey kissed him, and his magic simmered happily. It was all Mikleo could do to hold onto Sorey’s arms as he leaned into him, all warmth and comfort as Sorey thanked him in his own way.

Mikleo let him take his fill, felt his head begin to get that floaty feeling that came with Sorey’s more intense kisses; the kind of kisses they shared when they were alone that often built into something more, which were finally becoming more common between them, much to Mikleo’s delight. But when he felt one of Sorey’s hands leave his cheek in favor of moving down to press against the small of his back, Mikleo reluctantly twisted his face away, and brought his own hand up to keep the other at bay when he tried to follow.

“Wait,” he said, and Sorey’s pout was immediate. Mikleo pointedly ignored how cute it made him look. “The name thing. You need to tell me more about that first, before we get distracted.”

Sorey blinked. “Oh. That.” His brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to spiral into what it did. I really did just want your opinion.” His fingers flexed nervously at the small of Mikleo’s back. “So, what do you think? About maybe changing my name?”

“I think the question you should be asking me,” Mikleo answered, “is what I think of whatever name you’ve already picked out.”

Sorey was surprised enough to take a step back, and Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Sorey, I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t have brought it up to me at all if you hadn’t gotten that far with it.” The pout returned. Mikleo ran his hands up Sorey’s arms, settling on his shoulders where he gave him a light shake. “Come on, tell me.”

“I really can’t get anything past you, can I?” Sorey sighed and straightened his shoulders. “I thought about just taking Velvet’s name. I mean, it would have made sense. The Crowe family is technically the one that should be on the throne. But.... I didn’t like the way that made me feel either. I’m not really Velvet’s brother any more than I was Arthur’s son.”

Mikleo opened his mouth, but the hand on his cheek shifted to cover it before he could speak. “And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Sorey hurried on. “I just mean I think I’m finally ready to make my own name. I don’t want to be defined by Velvet any more than I do Arthur. I think it’s time I finally start just being Sorey, don’t you think?”

He took his hand away, dropping it awkwardly onto the bend of Mikleo’s elbow. Sorey stared at him with the most hopeful look Mikleo had ever seen on his face, and he didn’t know if it was possible to fall in love with someone twice, but their relationship had braved greater unknowns than that.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I do.”

The smile that split across Sorey’s face put the sun itself to shame.

“I like Shepherd,” he said, voice quiet like it was taking everything he had not to burst with excitement. “I thought it fit nice. I came from something simple, just like all the people I’ll be leading. I want them to know that.”

Mikleo nodded as his eyes stung with pride. Hearing that made him prouder than any ancient script of destiny ever could. His destiny was to make sure Sorey took the crown tomorrow, but Sorey made himself worthy of it all on his own.

“Sorey Shepherd.” It was like magic, sizzling on his tongue. “I like it, too. It’s perfect.”

You’re perfect, Mikleo didn’t say. Sorey looked happy enough to cry without hearing that part.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re right; it suits you.”

The pressure that suddenly appeared at the small of his back told him what Sorey’s next move was going to be, and he held up his hand again before Sorey could swoop back in. “But,” he chimed, maybe just a little teasingly as he watched impatience paint Sorey’s face, “to answer your original question, I think the whole thing’s a great idea. You of all people deserve a new beginning.”

Sorey smiled at him, something softer and more tender but just as warm. It matched the way he cradled Mikleo’s face. “You’re my new beginning,” he murmured. “You always were. You always will be.”

And while Mikleo would normally shove him for saying something so horribly cheesy, he let Sorey have that one. He wouldn’t have been able to stop the stupid smile that spread across his own face anyway.

Sorey’s fingers twitched against his cheek. “If there’s anything else from that spiel you want to talk about, you should say it now. Because once I kiss you again, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

Mikleo shook his head with absolutely nothing but fondness. He glanced over Sorey’s shoulder, eyeing the lock on his bedroom door, and his magic rushed to do his bidding. He heard the heavy click a moment later. The drapes were next with a glance over Sorey’s other shoulder, the sliver of light vanishing and shrouding them in darkness - but only for as long as it took Mikleo to light the candles on the walls.

The flickering flames sent shadows dancing across Sorey’s face, and Mikleo took a moment to appreciate the way he looked, just like he knew Sorey was doing as he felt his magic curl within him once more.

“No,” he answered, belatedly. “You can kiss me again.”

And Sorey, his sweet and shining king, was true to his word.

The next morning, His Majesty Sorey Shepherd of Camlann was formally sworn to the throne. The crown glittered where it nestled in his brown hair, caught by the sunlight streaming in through the windows as he stood on the dais, surrounded by his people. Rose and Zaveid were the ones who started the chant, passing it along to Velvet and Alisha and soon to everyone in the room. But Mikleo whispered his piece to himself, and his magic glowed with understanding. They would do everything they could with every bit of power they had to make sure the wish was fulfilled.

Long live the king.