#fic: eat your young

[juliaswickcrs]

EAT YOUR YOUNG :: ↳ yellowjackets s1 - ??

I’m starving, darling let me put my lips to something let me wrap my teeth around the world

tag list: @bisexualterror​ @foxesandmagic​ @iron-parkr​ @jvstjewels​ @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather​ @arrthurpendragon​ @villain-connoisseur​ @starcrossedjedis​ @drbobbimorse​ @noratilney​ @stanshollaand​ @kingsmakers​ @elmunson​ @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse​ @misshiraeth98​ @chrissymunson​ @asirensrage​ @eddiemunscns

[yandere-monoma]

"eat your young" fanart by a DARLING anon!!! thank you so much!!!

[shadowstarion]

eat your young

Chapter 4: money to be made

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationship: Astarion/The Dark Urge, OC Familial Relationships

Characters: The Dark Urge, Original Female Character, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Named Female Dark Urge, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Vampire Adoption, Mother-Daughter Day, Nostalgia, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Chronic Illness

“They have mothers, dear,” the vampire states with a twinge of something akin to jealousy, “I couldn’t bear to separate a child from a loving family.”

Read chapter 4 here on AO3!

[arlh0e]

I'm not sure if you're taking requests but I figured I'd try. I've had the idea of Hozier/Andrew finding out you have an oral fixation/kink and using against you until you're a brain dead mess. I came to Tumblr to see if I could find anything but it surprisingly doesn't have a ton of Hozier fics considering he's basically everyone's dream man.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading this!!

Moments silence (common tongue)

Oh my god I love this idea! Im so glad Ive been getting smut requests because Im relatively new to smut writing so I adore being able to practice. My apologies in advance if this is super awkward to read bc I was having trouble trying to figure out how to describe homies dick. It also may turn out to be a little long, I am a whore for sucking dick so pardon me if I get excited and carried away.

Rating: Hozier x reader, graphic smut, hard dom! Andrew, oral m! And fem! Receiving, face fucking, the sloppiest of sloppy blowjobs, oral fixation, smut under the cut, general filth, plotless smut, reassurance, begging, choking, help I need him

You were squirming beneath him, his tongue and fingers working their usual magic.

He loved going down on you, your pleasure was his top priority every time that he took you to bed, he absolutely loved making you feel good.

You hadn’t told him that you had a similar affinity with giving him the same pleasure. Of course, he knew you loved the act of giving, but to what extent he wasn’t fully aware of.

If you were honest, it was almost concerning how constantly you were thinking about the feeling of your mouth around him. It made you so wet that you had ruined more pairs of underwear than you were comfortable admitting. He made your mouth water and your mind go nearly completely blank with anything other than want for him.

You feel his fingers move from inside of you, his head lifting to meet your eyes. His pupils are dilated and you can see your arousal covering his lips. He looked utterly enchanting.

His hand moves toward your bottom lip, tapping it softly twice. “Open.” His voice is deeper than normal and his accent has thickened. You opened your mouth and let him push his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. You find yourself sucking gently on his fingers, moving your tongue across his digits, wishing it were his cock in your mouth instead.

You let out a moan as his fingers leave your mouth, not even processing the words you were saying. “If you don’t let me suck your dick right now I may just lose my mind.” Your voice was coming out in gasps and moans, you were desperate, bordering on feral.

He quirked a brow at you, smiling smugly down at you. “Oh, is that right?” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling away just slightly so that you could still feel his breath across your face, your noses were still touching. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me about this little fixation you have with putting your mouth on me.” He chuckled darkly, looking at you through hooded eyes.

You couldn’t even say you were surprised at this revelation. Of course he knew. You expected nothing less, and honestly you hadn’t exactly been secretive about it, you hadn’t ever tried to hide it, so of course he knew.

He moved his head away from yours, his fingers coming to your chin, squeezing it gently. “I want you to beg.” His tone was serious, leaving no room to argue.

Your gaze shifted around the room, your eyes darting everywhere but his face as you felt the blush creep onto your face through your neck. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed, but you hadn’t ever told anyone about this particular interest of yours. The idea that he not only kew but was asking you to beg for it was entirely foreign to you. It made you squirm a bit beneath him.

“Ah ah.” He pulls a bit on your chin, forcing you to look back at him. “Eyes on me. Use your words.” His gaze was intense but encouraging, loving. He wanted to hear you ask nicely, but he also wanted you to feel comfortable. You knew he wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to.

“Please?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, batted your eyelashes just a little bit. “Pretty, pretty please?”

He chuckled a bit, smiling down at you, his mask cracking just a little bit. “With a cherry on top?” You loved the way he could go from this powerful, dominant being to his normal goofy self like this sometimes.

“Of a most delicious sundae.” You smile back at him, sticking your tongue out for a half second.

He just kept smiling down at you, his hold on your chin still firm. “Well I cant argue with that.” He stands, still clothed from the waist down, pulling you up to sit before him. Your hands stayed folded in your lap as you looked at him, standing before you, hands at his sides. “Go ahead, love.”

You slowly slip off the side of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You could see the outline of his erection through his jeans, and you wondered for a second if that was uncomfortable. Surely it had to be.

You move your hands to fiddle with the button on his pants, frantically trying to undo the button and zipper. You always had a bit of trouble getting his hand pants all the way off of him, with how long his legs were, you couldn’t quite get them off, he always had to help you.

You took a moment to look at him, completely bare before you. He was beautiful, like a divine being come down to earth, and he was all yours.

You raise one hand to wrap it gently around his shaft while you used your tongue to wipe to bead of precum from his tip. The taste was salty and a bit bitter, but one you enjoyed nonetheless.

You carefully took him into your mouth, just a little bit at first, working up the nerve to try to go farther, moving slowly at first focusing on using your tongue to further his pleasure, hollowing your cheeks around him as you bobbed your head up and down along his length.

His hand flew to the back of your head, taking a fist full of your hair as his head leaned back and he let out a deep groan. He gently pushed on the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper and deeper.

You loved hearing the noises you could illicit from him, the way he gasped and tugged on your hair when you would moan in satisfaction around him, and you especially loved the louder sounds he would make for you, the way he would tell you how good you were doing and how good he felt. He was so vocal, and every word, noise, and gasp he made, pulled you in more.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good baby.” His voice was low and ever encouraging as he moved his hands through your hair, guiding your head along his cock at a relentless pace. You gagged, taking him farther than you had thought you were capable of.

You felt tears prickling your eyes as he kept bottoming out in the back of your throat, doing your best to keep your mouth closed but failing quite miserably as you continued gagging on him.

You found yourself struggling slightly to breathe between the saliva that was running down your chin and the pace at which he was hitting the back of your throat.

You moved your hand to tap frantically against his abdomen, wordlessly asking for a break to take a breath. After a few more thrusts, he backs away, his hands still in your hair, but granting you a break as he pulls gently on your hair to angle your head upward meeting his lips with yours.

You smile into the kiss, it was gentle, loving but urgent and nothing short of demanding. You moan into his lips, still smiling. As he pulls away, he makes a point out of observing the grin playing at your lips.

“So eager to please, darling.” He smiles darkly back at you, loosening his grip on your hair. He places another peck to your lips, then your forehead. “Do you want some more?” His gaze softened, looking down at you, smoothing your hair, a hint of concern in his eyes. He was making sure you were okay, checking in to make sure he wasn’t going too far or making you uncomfortable.

You nodded back at him, your smile not even faltering for a second. “Yes, please.” Your voice was raw, it felt like you had swallowed sand paper, and your voice cracked, but you didn’t even care. You wanted more of him. You wanted him to use you for his pleasure until you couldn’t speak or think or even breathe, and you were already halfway there.

You rose up higher on your knees, moving your hands to his hips, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to take him back into your mouth. You were met instead with a hand at the base of your neck, stopping you. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to let you have what you wanted.

He chuckled and moved his fingers to hold your chin once again, this time pulling you to your feet in front of him. “Uh uh. Lay down.” He removes his hand from your chin roughly, causing you to lose your balance and fall back onto the bed.

He makes his way around the bed to the side closest to your head, leaning over you, placing yet another kiss on your lips. “If you want me to stop, lap twice on my right thigh, alright?” You nod quickly, understanding where this is going, and quite eagerly scoot yourself to the end of the bed, your head dangling upside down over the side, your mouth falling open to welcome him.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, moving his hands to rest on either side of your shoulders, bending himself over you as he pushes himself back into your mouth, deeper than before.

You let out a moan as the same time you hear him groan from over you. “Jesus fucking christ, love.” He curses, thrusting his hips into your mouth once again, starting slow and gradually picking up the pace.

He moves his hands to wrap around your neck, feeling himself move inside your throat. You were breathless, gasping in between his thrusts, chocking on his cock as well as your own saliva, gagging as he used you. Your hands were holding the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to you, but also to ground yourself.

You were loving every moment of this. Relishing in the moment and the fact that you could deliver pleasure to him this way. You were utterly enchanted by him, his sounds, the curses he let out, the feeling of him moving in and out of your throat, you couldn’t think of any reason as to why you hadn’t told him this earlier.

With every second you could feel him coming closer, you also felt yourself becoming less and less able to think of anything but him. You were all but mindless, unable to form a single coherent thought, only embellishing in the feeling of his muscles, tensing all as once and then relaxing.

You tasted that same, familiar salty taste as you heard him breathlessly curse one final time before pulling out of your mouth and kneeling down next to your head.

You swallowed before offering him a dopey smile, still not fully in your right mind, high off the feeling of being useful to him.

He smiles back, standing up once again, this time to move you toward the pillows at the head of the bed, before laying himself next to you and gathering you in his arms.

“I take it we’ll be doing that again?” He smiles down at you and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. A lot.” You giggle as you curl up into his arms, closing your eyes and letting his arms completely encase your frame.

Dom Andrew is my favorite Andrew to write tbh. Thank you for the request, hope you enjoyed it <3

[pinkcannibal]

[shows up like 7 months later] hiiiii

okay this is just an update post to say eat your young is notttt abandoned!!! life has just been really really busy for me, and ive taken a break from writing (that was very much needed) but im going to be coming back really soon!!! thank u sm for all the support on this fic, and my writing in general, 2024 will truly be the year for insane milf fics and oneshots, i promise🫡

[jaguarys]

Thinking many Sith thoughts tonight

[h-doodles]

Your love makes me feel holy — a web weave for @pinkcannibal eat your young chapter 20 (as it deserves!!!!)

i'm being so brave and so normal abt it btw. (<- lying 🥰🥰🥰) i love eat your young so much im literally out here once again like. hehe. i need to have my beloved plant milf dyke professor to come eat me up real

[inbox-to-the-void]

Fresh's Theme: YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH Swap: FML

art source comes from here, fic made by @gaylordscooter

[IMAGE ID: A digital drawing of Swap Sans, visibly tense and hiding behind a broken wall. The wall is an almost-grey blue, the background is a slightly bluer and darker grey, Blue's background color is blue, and Swap's outlines are a paler version of his background. Behind the wall are rainbow all-capitilized words that switch color each line break. The words read "YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH", the words a reference to the beginning lyrics in Wannabe by Spice Girls. The rainbow words are cut off by the bottom of the broken wall. Swap's thought bubble background is his outline colour, while his speech bubble font color is colored in his background color. His thought bubble just reads "FML" in all caps. END ID]

[the-everqueen]

swan thought i have permission to paraphrase/post: dreamling as a ship posits that the only thing that eludes hob, the embodiment of britishness and all that entails, who has an unquenchable hunger for life and all the time in the world to claim it (an empire the sun can never set on, because it cannot/will not die), is the heart of his stranger - the personification of the collective subconscious. empire can devour the world but it can never colonize the dreams of every person! except that the larger fandom's insistence on him as the universal human implies what if it could. and this is not explored as or considered to be a horror.

[bambino1294]

Eat Your Young

A Time Travel Fic — Playlist

? Chapters | ? Words | Rated M

“This, however, is not the same boy she reaped the first time. He is not soft and teary, he is warped and hardened. His hands are lightly bandaged, coiled rags disappearing into his sleeves, and something behind his eyes is already scarring, already scarred. This is not the same boy she sent off to a Quarter Quell but, then again, she is not the same Escort he left behind either.”

OR

The prisoners of war try again.

[yandere-monoma]

on the subject of this, re: the inherent strilonde incest fetish gene

i think dave (and rose, honestly) have both suffered with an intense blurring of emotional and sexual lines between themselves and their guardians that's created at least one era/phase of having some sort of huge underlying attraction/crush on them that they quickly diverted into something else the second they acknowledged those feelings for what they were (dave into idolation and rose into resentment, respectively)

sidenote: when will my brain let me write lalondecest

and i think that's one of those things that dave both HEAVILY projects onto harry (aided by the fact that he is absolutely right in his guess that harry shares a similar inclination towards john) and something that really baffles him about harry as a person because i dont think that dave really can accept that harry's trauma... 'counts'... or rather, dave looks at his past incesteous affection for bro as a chicken or an egg scenario (what came first, the grooming or the fetish for all things incest??? did my crush on bro aid in me getting groomed or did i get groomed into a crush on him???) where he's more or less accepted that the latter is the correct and right answer and that he's valid in having experienced that, because it wasnt his fault if bro acted towards him first. but he doesn't see john initiating with harry and he doesnt see harry undergoing any additional sexual abuse or explicit grooming (besides what he's done himself) or even the isolation with only one other human during a very important neurodevelopmental period so he's just... BAFFLED by how they could have reached the same conclusion about what they need in their relationships. like he just does not GET how harry's wires got so identically crossed when their experiences couldnt be more different. and he hates it cuz it makes him doubt the nice and neat answer he had finally landed on and it just... makes him feel so hopeless when it comes to family and how good one can be

interesting too because i think harry's approach to his frustration towards john is actually very similar to how i see rose's relationship with her mother. resentment building precisely because of all the (admittedly, fucked up!!!) things they just wouldnt commit to doing even though they can (allegedly) SEE that they WANT to.

another sidenote: my lalondecest hcs range from them only having a one-time encounter that rose resents for the lack of follow-through and repeat instances to their relationship mostly being defined by sporadic kisses and fondling and the resentment coming from never going all the way and thus never feeling like her trauma 'counted' cuz it was only molestation (insert the complicated struggle of understanding your trauma is severe but it never feeling severe or extreme enough, especially in comparison to a friend's backstory HOO)

[navree]

Let's be honest, and I say this with full offense, Lucerys Velaryon is the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Dance of the Dragons. He is meant to be a sacrificial lamb to kick off the entire war proper. If we had gotten a full season of development with him like we did with the younger cast in Game of Thrones, I guarantee more people would've felt something. The only reason I personally feel bad is from a baseline level of empathy, because he was a child who was placed in an unwinnable situation due to his mom being completely irresponsible with him and his brothers.

However…

The comparison between Lucerys and Aemond is no contest. Love him or hate him, Aemond has an actual personality and goals when we first meet him. There's enough dimension in Aemond as a child to showcase the potential for sympathy between him and Jace at the funeral, a scene they didn't need to put in, but they did, which emphasizes his own innocence. Even before he breaks bad fully in S1E10, he's still far more compelling to watch due to the number of scenes allocated to him and his dynamic with other people.

This is where you and I are going to disagree just a bit, because Lucerys does do something in S1E07 and S1E08. He gouges out the eye of a family member and petulantly whines that he “didn’t do anything!” when confronted with the possibility of getting in trouble for it, then years later has the nerve and complete lack of sense to giggle at the person he permanently maimed only hours after his legitimacy was publicly called into question (again) and resulted in a murder. The narrative (perhaps unintentionally) glosses over these moments in favor of portraying him as good, whereas if you read between the lines, you can see that as being an oversimplification. The problem is that because S1 was truncated, secondary characters like Lucerys don’t receive screentime dedicated to portraying anything other than a single personality trait. Unfortunately, because of his role in the text and the way it was adapted for television, there was never a chance that Lucerys would be interesting.

I don't even have anything to add, this is just objectively correct.

[arlh0e]

Hiii if you are actually serious about taking requests then I was wondering if you could do something fluffy based on hozier’s song ‘to someone from a warmer climate’ because as someone from somewhere very alike to Ireland in climate it did something my heart heart the first time I heard it lol. I love how you write Andrew and just how you write tbh if you do end up writing it thanks in advance 💛💛💛

It came easy, darling

This is actually perfect for me right now because it is actually colder where I live than it is in Antarctica right now. Im being so dead ass.

Rating: PG-13 (this is the tamest fic I have ever written)

Warnings: Hozier x gn!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, COLD weather, not even attempting at using irish slang cause I’ll fuck it up.

Coming home from work today was an utter nightmare. You could’ve sworn that rain while it was so cold was arguably so much worse than snow or ice.

You had lived here your whole life and yet it never got any easier to live somewhere where it got this cold on a regular basis.

Today though, there was something different about this cold. Usually it was manageable, but today, you had trouble even with your numerous layers, staying warm in the brief periods of time that you were outside. It was the kind of cold that chilled you to the bone.

And what made it worse was the fact that the heater in your car had all but decided to completely shit the bed this morning. By the time you had gotten home, you could have sworn that you were at risk of losing a few toes.

Walking through the door, you were almost immediately greeted with the sound of Andrew upstairs playing with the band. You smiled. His idea to convert one of the extra bedrooms in the house you lived in together into a music room had been a fantastic one. He could work and record from home whenever he wanted. He loved being able to let an idea take him whenever the inspiration struck and having everything he needed in one room in the house made that so much easier for him.

You began peeling off your (now soaked) outer layers to hang them on the coat hooks next to the door. You quickly realized that even though you had been wearing several coats, the rain had soaked through to your shirt. Wonderful.

Still shivering, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom and quickly replaced your wet clothes with dry ones. Sweats and a shirt you had gotten from Andrews side of the closet, which was almost comically large on you.

You were still quite cold, so you grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around your shoulders before making your way toward where the band was practicing.

You loved watching them play. Specifically, you loved watching Andrew play. It was like his music transformed him, he was passionate and powerful and confident when he was playing. You entered the room quietly and curled up on the small couch Andrew had put in the room, specifically so that you could sit there and watch him if you wanted to.

They were running through a moment silence (common tongue), a song which he had written in one night while sitting next to you after and encounter which at the time he had said was “some of our best work”

You always wondered how he could get up on stage and sing about such things, especially considering that just listening to the things he had written about some of the nights you’d spent together made you incredibly flustered.

You found the whole thing sweet of course. The idea of this man being so entirely enthralled with you that you had inspired a rather large portion of his music over the years was flattering to say the absolute least. You were his muse and he made sure you were all too well aware of his music being about you, even if he was incredibly private about details when it came to his following.

“Love, you’re shivering.” Andrews voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You were so far in thought that you hadn’t even realized how cold you really were.

“Oh, yeah it’s a bit cold out there. I got a little bit wet with the rain, Im okay though.” You shrug a bit.

“No you’re not. Go to bed, turn on a movie, I’ll be there in a a few minutes.” He stands from his stool at the front of the room and sets his guitar down on the stand by the wall.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to interrupt.” You shake your head and move the blanket farther over your shoulders. “I’m okay, really.”

“We were just about done anyways, you’re not interrupting anything, darling.” He chuckles quietly and walks over to take your hands, pulling you to stand in front of him.

He places a soft kiss you your forehead, causing a happy sigh to escape your lips. “Go to bed, I’ll bring you some tea.” You nodded and leaned into his touch. You were still cold, so it didn’t take much for you to give up and do what he asked.

When you got to your bedroom and laid down under the blankets, it was the first time that you fully recognized just how cold you really were. You were violently shivering, teeth chattering, and desperately rubbing your legs together under the covers to try and generate heat.

You moved to pick up the remote from the nightstand next to Andrews side of the bed, turning the tv on. You scroll through Netflix, looking for something to watch for a bit before Andrew came in with two coffee mugs and handed you yours before making his way to the other side of the bed.

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him so that your head rested against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Why don’t we watch that documentary you started the other day?”

You gave him a funny look. “I thought you said you didn’t like watching murder documentaries with me?” You both laughed a little bit as you went back and clicked on the title.

“Yes, I think you’re weird for spending so much time learning about how people get away with murder, your bad list is not a place I would want to end up, however, you’re cold, so I’ll humor you.” He squeezed you a bit tighter for a second, and you started to feel yourself warm up just a bit.

He was always so warm. It was like just radiated heat from his every inch. You always found yourself nuzzling into his heat, but especially at times like this, being so close to him was one of the best feelings. Even when you weren’t saying anything to each other, moments like this were your favorite.

The intimacy between the two of you in moments like this was something that you always craved. The way he absentmindedly drew his fingers through your hair and held you so close to him was something you ached for when he wasn’t around, a privilege that you could never imagine taking for granted.

You found yourself paying more attention to the even sound of his breathing and the fluttering of his heartbeat than what was happening on the screen. You closed your eyes, sighing in content as you listened.

Every part of him was made of music, it seemed. His heartbeat was steady, creating a steady rhythm for the air in his lungs to sing along with. He was magnificent. Everything about him was nothing short of awe inspiring. He was beautiful, perfect even.

I could hear him start to hum a melody that was unfamiliar to me. It was beautiful. It was a soft, soaring melody line that was a little bit higher than his usual range. Nevertheless it was beautiful.

Looking up at his face, he looked completely lost in thought and he hummed the melody. “If you need to go write, its okay. I’m nice and warm now, it’s fine.” You smile up at him lovingly. You simply adored the way his mind worked. The way he could make music out of the simplest of thoughts.

“No, I wanna stay.” He pulled you even tighter to his chest, you were almost impossibly close, but it was in no way uncomfortable. “You help me think.” His face held nothing but pure love and adoration looking back at yours. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this much love for one person, and yet there he was holding your whole heart in the palm of his hands, the same way you held his.

His voice was soft, loving, so incredibly soothing as he sang the words while they passed through is head.

‘The feel of coldness only water brings

There are some things that no one teaches you, love

That come natural as a dream, you didn't know that you were in

And darlin', all my dreamin'

Is only put to shame

And darlin', all my dreamin'

Has only been given a name

it came easy, darlin'

As natural as another leg around you in the bed frame’

You could feel your heart melting at every word. Every time you thought that there was no possible way your love for him could grow, he did something that made you fall endlessly more in love with him. He truly was the only person you could ever see yourself being with.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done, and hearing that he felt the same made your entire being melt into a puddle at his feet. You were putty in his hands. “I love you endlessly, Andrew.” You said it softly, but with so much power. Like if there was one thing in the whole world you could be sure of, it was your love for him, and to an extent that was true.

You loved him recklessly. In a way that was so intense it engulfed your entire being, swallowed you whole.

“I love you, more than anyone has ever loved anyone.”

:) I hipe this was okay, thank you for the request love you <3

[kleyamarki]

i love making myself absolutely devastated over fictional characters at 2:45pm on a monday

[superspookyjanelle]

UPCOMING FICS: Eat Your Young

Fandom: Percy Jackson

TAGGING: @witchofinterest @fiercefray @sweetenemyfire @eddysocs @arrthurpendragon @villanele @bookstorebunny @roseygirl203 @valdrinors

[jaguarys]

The first time Owen Lars meets Anakin Skywalker, he is twelve, and the latter is nine, or so he believes. Of course, he will never learn any better. He will have his suspicions, as will anyone else who has the chance to interact with the child in any more than a cursory conversation, but he will never approach Ani directly.

(One day, he will ask their mother. She will smile, turn away, and say, “Some things don’t need to be questioned.”

Which will, of course, answer nothing and yet everything.)

The Skywalkers’ impromptu freedom is the talk of their small community. No one has seen anything like it, and Owen, for all his youth, can see the way it bristles at the slavers. So can his father.

For their newfound pride, newfound independence, newfound freedom, the Skywalkers keep their heads down. It rankles at Owen, the first time they meet, the need for any humility at all. But he knows, just as any Tatooine native knows, just as anyone with sense knows, that it is a need all the same.

Cliegg Lars offers the mother and son a safe place to stay for as long as they need. Owen will tease his father for years that it was solely a way to get closer to his future wife. Cliegg will smile ruefully, but won’t deny anything; Shmi, for her part, will only ever click her tongue in teasing.

A twelve year old Owen finds Ani a strange little thing. He doesn’t act like any child Owen has met, or any child at all, and as such he’s not really sure what to do with him.

So this is what he does: he ignores him, for some time. He tries to tease, because Owen has and always will have a sharp tongue and a lack of care for whoever may be at its end. This doesn’t work, because Ani seems more amused by it than anything else, if in the way that one might be amused by a small animal doing its best to seem menacing.

Safe to say: he quickly gives this up.

After that, he switches to a half-hearted attempt to befriend this strange child who lurks around the house and has a tendency to disappear into the desert for days at a time. Their mother doesn't seem concerned, so he's not either, even if from the moment he was old enough to understand and likely before he has been told, over and over, that there is nothing more dangerous than the desert.

He tries to follow Ani only once. He creeps behind him for a little ways, bitter at how this little kid seems so at ease in the terrain, at how this child seems like he's never been built for anywhere else. As if he could melt into the desert if Owen lets his eyes stray for even a second.

He hides behind a nearby rock when Ani comes to a stop. He squints to watch as Ani kneels in the sand, and he realizes quickly Ani is uncovering something buried.

He can't tell what it is at first. Some sort of machinery piece, he thinks. And then Ani presses it, and red light ignites.

Owen knows of legends, and there is nothing more mystical, more magical than Jedi. Owen has never seen one; he is at that age, the time in his life in which he begins to question the stories he has been told. He has, on occasion, wondered if things such as Jedi exist, and if so, why they do not come to Tatooine. For Jedi are helpers, and Tatooine needs help as much as anywhere.

Ani is a Jedi, he decides. Owen does not know much, not past stories of magic and blades of light.

He watches red light reflect off his younger brother's face, watches his features twist into something else, something older, something nonhuman, and he thinks of old legends of hidden, true faces.

He fears his brother, in this moment. He will never stop fearing him, not truly. He will watch his face change, out of the corner of his eye, when he thinks no one is watching. He will watch him become something else. Something dark. Something powerful. Something that he has always been and always will be, even if they choose not to recognize. It bubbles under the surface, constantly, like a pot about to boil over.

And yet, he feels something else as well, in this moment. Recognition, perhaps. Because this is his brother. Not the child, not even the human.

Because he has his answers.

He watches as Ani turns off the sword and sets it back down in the sand, watches as he covers it back up until it's buried again. Like it was never there at all. Owen could almost convince himself he never saw any of it at all.

But he can't, and he wouldn't try. Instead, he simply watches Ani walk past his hiding spot and tries to convince himself there's no way he knows he's there. Instead, he simply waits there longer than he probably needs to, trying to convince himself that it's alright, that nothing has changed when so much has.

Because it's not simply learning of this hidden thing, it's not something that is confined to the desert, much as he wants to believe it.

He will never stop fearing his brother.

When he ducks back into the homestead for dinner, when he settles at the table alongside their parents, Ani's eye catches him.

Owen knows then, that it was a test. That Ani wants to know, now, what he will say, if he will say anything at all.

Tatooine trades in secrets, and Owen keeps his. His brother has a sword of light buried in the desert, and it is red. His brother is a Jedi, or so Owen believes, and he keeps his secrets.

His brother is something else, something inhuman, something other, and Owen keeps his secrets.

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This is part of my fanfic, It's Quicker and Easier to Eat Your Young, which is posted on my AO3! Please consider checking it out!