#her name is Cephied by the way

[eternalfeatherofaeons]

Some character design doodles.

[starshineandbooks]

Delia sanders and the case of having family

Chapter one, what's sixteen years between family? A disaster.

Word count - 1,613

Pairing - LAMPD

Warnings - implied/referenced child abuse, cursing, threats. Tell me if I missed any

Patton messes up in this one. A lot.

    Patton stands beside his partners and children, eyes wide and searching as he looks about the airport for his boyfriend’s brother- Patton’s pseudo brother and unofficial brother-in-law- and someone who’s supposed to be his daughter.

    He’s shaky, worried, and of course scared.

    What will their daughter think of them? What will she think of her siblings? What if she hates them? 

    What if-

    “Roman! Boys!” Thomas smiles kindly, “You’re here! I sent Remus and Delia to the hotel, I know you wanted to see them here but- They needed to get out of the airport.”

    “Same.” Virgil grunts, “Meet you there?”

    “Of course! See you soon, oh- I’m so glad you get to see her.”

    Time seems frozen and simultaneously fast as they drive to the hotel, Roman and Patton talk, to fill the silence, trying to guess what Remus has been up to, what their daughter likes, if she likes poems and such.

    Janus, Logan, and Virgil listen to a murder podcast or other using headphone splitter, Janus and Logan sharing a set of earbuds.

    The boys talk happily, excited to meet their sister, the girl in the pictures.

    Nico greets them when they arrive, going to Thomas and Nico’s room first, and as if fate does not want them to see Remus and Delia again, the duo have disappeared to get dinner.

    Patton wants to scream.

    Thomas sits leaning against his husband, Nico’s, side, he speaks of Remus and Cordelia, though he’s said he’ll let them hear most of everything from them, “Remus is okay, he’s protective, of course, he always was. But- this is different. And Delia, she’s charming, but she gets the same look Janus does when she meet people, watch her.”

    Logan snorts, “I doubt we wouldn’t.”

    Patton feels rather numb to the world, but then the hotel door is opened- Nico answered it- and all heads turn to look.

    Remus, tall, wild as ever, and mustached like old times, stands beside a teenage girl. His hair has streaks of grey, Patton suspects that they aren’t dye like they used to be, and his clothes are paint splattered, manic grin in place.

    The girl looks foreign, Patton wants so badly to feel some parental tug to her, but he just doesn't, this isn’t his baby. His baby was taken when she was three, here is this strange teenager.

    Her brows knit slightly, barely noticeable, then she tilts her head, “Thomas, Nico?”

    “Delia!” Thomas grins, “Come on, these are your parents, and brothers I told you about.”

    Delia turns her gaze to her parents and brothers, “Nice to meet you,” She looks at her siblings lips quirking upwards, “You three are adorable, you know that?”

    “YEs!” Harley and Brian declare together, Pryce giggles outright in lue of response.

    “Cordy?” Janus asks, eyes meeting hers.

    “I prefer Delia,” She says, “If you don’t mind?”

    “Of course, yes! Delia!” PAtton says, and even he winces internally at the jarring peppiness to his voice, “We’re so glad to meet you- I mean- See you again!”

    She chuckles, soft, polite- Patton can’t help but think it’s an act, a dirty dirty trick- and she smiles sweetly, eyes almost sparkling, “It’s been a long time, I hate to upset you but I don’t remember you, so it is like a first meeting.”

    A dirty trick indeed, Patton thinks to himself. She would make an excellent actor, too bad she has the same tell Janus does, the slight over blinking, though she seems to have learned how to hide even that fairly well.

    No one seems particularly inclined to speak, they all stare at her and Remus.

    Delia stands fairly tall for a woman, Patton would put money that she is about six foot tall, hair that’s not wavy but not quite curly either in a dark shade, and startlingly gold eyes. 

    Remus stands about a head taller than Delia, watching over his shoulder, he never used to do that. It’s starling to see him so jumpy after knowing him to be the reason other people are jumpy.

    “I’m Logan,” Logan says, finally shifting a little, “It’s very good to see you home again.”

    “Thank you, Logan,” Delia smiles.

    Patton just can’t say that this- woman is his daughter. It can’t be the same person. His Cordy had been a vibrant, wild, cheery little toddler with big blue eyes like Logan’s and blonde hair like Janus’. She had been a gleeful singing monster, she’d called her parents variations of dad, not by first name.

    This Delia- this teenager was not his daughter, surly the others knew it too. He wouldn’t kick her out, he would try to love her, but this woman is not the same person his daughter is, they can’t be the same.

    Remus growls lowly, and everyone stares at Patton in varying states of shock, Patton realizes weakly and too late he had said that out loud.

    How on god’s earth did he manage to say that outloud.

    “Kiddo I-”

    “It’s okay,” Delia says, though the way her tone is falsely happy really dosen’t assure Patton, she stares him down, charming on the outside but her gaze is as cold as he’s ever seen, “I didn’t recognize you as my father either.”

    Even if Patton doesn't feel a parental pull towards Delia, the words still hurt.

    “Patton,” Logan says sternly, “You owe Delia an apology.”

    “I’m so sorry kiddo! I didn’t mean to say that I just- It’s so much and- goodness, you must be overwhelmed too.”

    Delai looks at PAtton, then “It’s fine, Patton.”

    The others must have done interactions while he zoned out.

    “Patt,” Logan gentles, “I know it’s hard, and you’re entitled to being upset but this is a scared child, she needs adults.”

    Patton misses the way Delia bristles at the words, but Janus sees the way she does, the settles serenely.

    “Patt,” Virgil sighs, “I get that, okay? But you need to do better.”

    “Delia,” Remus says finally, “Let’s go shower, I know you’re tired.”

    “But,” Logan protests, “We just-

    “Good night, I’ll talk to you later.” Remus says firmly, placing food down for them before stalking out, Delia at his side.

    Nico and Thomas sigh, sharing a look.

    Delia and Remus shower in relative silence then Remus asks finally, “So, what do you think?”

    Delia shrugs, “The boys are cute, they seem like good kids.”

    “Yeah.”

    “Logan and Patton seem- pretentious and I don’t like them at all.” Delia says after a moment, knowing Remus will always be there, he’s proven it time and time again, “I can’t believe Patton was rude enough to say that. I mean- I know I’m not what they wanted.”

    “That’s not true, they just wanted you, you’re you!”

    “They wanted me when I was three, which fine, I don’t mind that. But then Logan backs Patton up?!”

    “Oh little trash baby,” Remus coles gently, “It’ll be okay.”

    “I know.”

    “Good. Now, little mistake, get some sleep.”

    “Go talk to them,” Delia says.

    “What?”

    She sighs then, “I know you missed them, go talk to them, they’re your family.”

    “But-”

    “You’ll be next door. I can protect myself for a few hours, even if I hate them, I want you to be happy. Go on.”

    “I’ll check on you every half hour.”

    “I know.”

    Remus sighs, moving to his niece and ruffling her hair, “We’ll be alright kid.”

    “Good night, cephy.”

    “Good night, kitty.”

    Remus slips out of the hotel room, and Delia is left alone to reflect. An awful decision, really.

    She stares ta the ceiling, and her mind wanders over her day, focusing on the set of boys that supposedly are her brothers.

Her uncle always told her that most people are useless and should be used for her own gain, to keep her ahead of the game. 

But he also said she should never ever use children, or those she cares for. 

Remus also told her that there are good people, and she should protect them, not use or harm them.

Her brothers, she thinks they're adorable, she'd like to try to be there for them at least, like only Remus was for her. Those three boys deserve better than Logan and God forbid Patton.

Delia hums letting her eyes slip closed, letting the silence soothe her troubled mind.

---

Remus sits himself by his parents, glare leveled on Patton, "How dare you, how fuxking- I'll rip your fucking tounge-"

"Remus!" Virgil hisses looking completely scandalized.

"Screw off," Remus snaps, "You heard what he said to my sweet little trash baby!"

Everyone pauses at the endearment, a weird and very Remus sentiment.

"We're not saying he's right," Roman sighs.

"You weren't saying he was wrong!" Remus snaps.

"Remus," Thomas soothes gently, "we are all very glad to see you and Delia safe and alive. But it was a shock for us, imagine being her parent-"

"I am!" Remus snaps, "I raised her as best I could! I am he dad, even if she calls me uncle or cephy, I bandaged her wounds, I tied her tourniquet, hell I preformed half of her abortions!"

He freezes, realizing the others are quiet.

"Abortions?" Janus asks.

Remus scoffs, "Nothing. If you ask her i will destroy you."

"Remus, I-" Patton winces then, "I didn't-"

"You're not her father, you were right, Delia isn't your daughter." Remus sneers, a growl rumbling from his chest. 

"Remus," Nico soothes, "Please."

Remus scoffs, "You don't know what this pike bag did to Delia. I ought to-"

"Remus," Roman says gently, "Patton was out of line, but please, can't we just have a calmer conversation? For the boys? They're next door with Logan, just please don't wake them."

Remus scoffs, but he resigns to crossing his arms and glaring at Patton.

Just like old times.

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @fanficloverinthesun

[slashyrogue]

For @angeloffanvergent ❤️

Will hated parties. 

Absolutely, positively, hated parties. 

And yet he was mated to an omega who thrived on them. 

Hannibal either went to or threw a party once a month, though Will was not in attendance. He respected that, didn’t force Will to join, and yet as the first year of their mating went by Will began to notice the rejected scent that permeated Hannibal’s glands for days after he’d skip out on a party. 

He felt uncomfortable saying anything really, but he’d be extra attentive until Hannibal’s scent was normal again. This went on until one extra frenzied heat resulted in a surprise pregnancy that both of them were overjoyed about. 

Will hadn’t ever expected to be a father, especially considering Hannibal’s age, and yet the doctor confirmed they both would be. A month after the positive results there was another party, and as Hannibal readied himself for the evening Will found himself feeling horrible for letting him go alone. 

“You look nice.” 

Hannibal smiled, wrapping a tie around his neck. “Thank you, Mylimasis. I feel very well today, I think our offspring is excited to socialize.” 

Will frowned. “Yeah.” 

He watched Hannibal expertly tie his tie, and when he turned Will ached knowing he’d be gone for hours. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Will lied, forcing a smile, “Have a good time.” 

“I’ll try.” 

The ritual before Hannibal would leave for an event was as follows: shower, dress, kiss Will goodbye, and go. 

He had done the first two, and Will waited for his goodbye kiss but Hannibal stopped instead just smiling. “I will return.” 

And then he was gone. 

Will had never felt rejected by Hannibal before, not even when he’d stuck a damn knife in his belly and left him to die on the floor bleeding out. He felt rejected now, horribly so, and knowing his pregnant mate was heading out into the night alone made him do something he’d never done before. 

He took a shower, got into his nicest suit, let Cephie out for her evening poop, and left to follow Hannibal to the party. They had two cars, though Will’s was a truck that had seen better days, and as he pulled up to Mrs. Joda’s home he wasn’t even sure they’d let him in. 

The valet was holding a guest list when he got out of the car, and oddly enough his alias was on it. 

“You can go right in, Mr. Alighieri.” 

Will let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and followed the long crowd of people inside. The Jodas were a couple who Hannibal had met through his job curating art for the museum, and their wealth was a sight to behold. Will had been in fancy houses before but the ballroom was as close to a palace as he’d ever get. 

He took a deep breath and tried to catch Hannibal’s scent among the crowd. The mixed mess of alphas, betas, and omegas here made it harder than it should’ve been but as he headed for the food he caught Hannibal’s flowery aroma instantly. 

Hannibal stood at the end of the buffet table holding a small plate and looking oddly dejected. Will headed for him, determined, and the way his head shot up in surprise was adorable. He blinked at Will. 

“W---Mylimasis.” 

“Hi.” 

“You came.” 

“Yeah,” Will said, oddly nervous, “I...I know I’ve been a shit the past few months with all this and I know you love going to things even though people could...easily pick us out of a....” 

Hannibal pulled him into a kiss, shaking as he eagerly tasted Will’s tongue. Will growled, digging his nails into Hannibal’s back, and when they pulled apart the scent of him was so happy Will’s heart ached. 

“You did not have to come.” 

“Yes, I did. You...” 

“Virgil!” an excited voice said, making them both turn to see a woman old enough to be Will’s grandmother, “Is this....?” 

Hannibal smiled, taking Will’s hand. “This is my alpha, yes.” 

The woman, who Will assumed was Mrs. Joda, gasped along with the five people she had with her. “Oh my word! We thought you weren’t real! This is delightful!” 

Will blushed. “Yeah, that’s me. Totally real.” 

“Virgil has done nothing but talk of you the past year. My alpha this, my alpha that. We were almost sure you were imaginary or sickly but here you are just...perfectly alphan and handsome. You know, I’m not even sure what your name is.” 

He looked at Hannibal whose blush was ten times deeper than Will’s own. 

“Dante,” he said, smiling, “My name is Dante.” 

“That’s so amusing,” she tittered, “I’m quite certain you have such stories to tell, navigating your way through the Inferno.” 

They shared a smile. 

“Oh yes,” Hannibal said, squeezing Will’s hand, “He has many stories, but...my alpha is not a good a storyteller as I am.” 

Will kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“No, Beloved,” Hannibal whispered, scenting his cheek against Will’s, “Thank you.” 

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Of Books, Brothers, and Broadway (Creativitwins College AU) Chapter One!!!

Word Count: 1771

TW: So Remus, obviously, swearing, ocean mentions, sea creatures and reptiles, and I think that’s it!

Pairings: None yet. This chapter is just a ton of platonic creativitwins!

Notes: This is three pages that I wrote last night. I’m now at ten pages of this. I don’t know what I was possessed by but I’m not about to complain. Its a college AU, I mention it I think, but Roman is a theatre major and Remus is a marine biology major with a minor in creative writing. I’m excited for you guys to see more of this!

Summary: “Bro!!! Bro I found a giant ass lizard in the yard look at it bro!!!” Roman and Remus Reyes live together. They figured it would be cost effective to do so while in college. Roman deals with Remus’ reptiles and fish tank, Remus deals with Romans singing at 3 in the morning. They’ve had an interesting relationship, and when Remus reminds Roman of a deal they made years ago, hes ready to start crying. Can a couple of kids from Florida make a Broadway musical?

“Bro!!! Bro I found a giant ass lizard in the yard look at it bro!!!”

Roman was done with his brothers bullshit. He doesn't know where he got the bright idea that the two of them should cohabitate in an apartment during college, but as he panickedly climbs onto the kitchen counters to escape him he knows he must've been on some sort of drug. He released a scream as he backed into the corner of the room as his brother held out a lizard that was definitely going to jump and attack him.

“GET IT AWAY!!! ITS SLIMY AND GROSS AND MALICIOUS!!!”

“This little guy malicious? Nah bro, that's a you problem. He's so cuteeee look at his scales they’re almost a holographic!”

That caught Roman's attention. He stopped panicking to actually look at the critter in his brother's hands. Remus was right, he was almost holographic. Roman gave it a weak smile and Remus beamed.

“See? It's not that scary! I'm gonna keep him! He's gonna be named fred!”

Roman chuckled softly as his brother finally left and brought the lizard to his room. He slipped off the counter and followed at a safe distance.

“Don't you think you have enough reptiles? If you keep getting more you'll need more heat lamps and i'm giving you more of the electric bill”

“Ok fair point but hear me out, have you ever seen a collared lizard quite as colorful as this one? I mean he's such a pretty one aint he?”

Roman took more steps forward, relaxing once the lizard was placed in the terrarium. The lizard was quite colorful, and Roman couldn't deny, it was one of the prettiest ones Remus had captured. It immediately scurried around and dived into the water bowl. Roman laughed at it.

“Besides, he was just begging to be brought in! Like really this time! He kept bumping into my feet, he started climbing my pants leg, it was so cute you should've seen it!”

“I'm sure I would have cried.”

Remus chuckled as he moved to the other wall of his room covered in a giant aquarium that Roman was still amazed fit through the doors. Remus grinned at all the fish swimming around, tipping a good portion of fish food into the tank after turning off the filter. He then made his way to his bed and sat on the twin sized mattress covered with octopus blankets. He grinned at his brother and Roman rolled his eyes.

“When are you finally kidnapping an octopus huh?”

“I'm glad you asked! You know my internship right?”

“Of course, the only time you don't talk about the marine institute is when youre talking about your reptiles”

Remus popped up and grabbed Roman's wrist and dragged him to the whiteboard calendar that hung on the outside of his door, pointing excitedly at tomorrow's date while bouncing on his toes.

“Well they just got an octopus buddy in that needs constant care that they don't have the time for! She's real fucked up, she needs meds twice a day, she needs to be hand fed, its a real fucked up case, they were rescued from a seaworld copycat, the poor thing hasn't been healthy since it hatched we think. There's a chance that she won't even be able to be released cuz she's been so dependent on humans for her whole life. But they opened up for applicants, and I was the only one willing to take her in. they're coming and checking my tank tomorrow and if it is good enough, which i'm certain it will be, and then they'll hand her over and i’ll be her caretaker!”

Roman grinned at the excitement his brother had. He ruffled his hair quickly.

“That's cool rem. I'm happy for you. She got a name?”

“Mhmm! Her name is Cephanie! But I've been calling her Cephy. She's so pretty ro, i can't wait for you to meet her! And she's so friendly!”

“You know every day I get less confused at your choice in major. And more confused about your minor”

Remus grinned at Roman and released his wrist, skipping over to their kitchen, relishing in the fact that Roman followed still. He poured himself a cup of coffee and jumped onto the counter with a grin still plastered to his face. He took a sip from his mug, the one with a tentacle handle, and kicked his feet.

“I don't know why! It's totally sensical to have a minor in creative writing ro! It's not like you can expect me to be your playwright if i don't know what i'm doing! Besides, i can write epic lovecraftian horrors that aren't incredibly racist and who doesn't want that?”

Roman blinked. He had to process what Remus had said and he was still confused. His head tilted like a dogs.

“My playwright?”

Remus giggled, it was funny when Remus giggled, it wasn't a sound that you would expect to come out of him. And yet he did it often.

“Did you forget? Aw ro, you can't back out on it now, you asked me when we were still in middle school to write you a book for a musical, and you were gonna write the music and you kept saying you were gonna get it on broadway. I've held up my end of the deal! In fact, I actually have a story started, I think you're gonna love it! Course, i haven't written it all out yet, it's gonna be my final”

“Wait, you remembered that? Rem we were like 10!”

“And now we’re 21, what's your point?”

“We, we can't get on broadway! We’re a couple of idiots from florida! I’m, i'm not a musician, I'm barely even a dancer, what are you talking about? That was a fever dream from a couple of kids, it's not like we can actually do it!”

Remus frowned. He set his mug of coffee down and hopped off of the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Roman a serious look.

“Do you know when lin manuel miranda wrote his first broadway musical?”

“No i-”

“His sophomore year of college. Who says we can't do the same? Roman you under sell your talents. You're a theatre major, you may not be amazing at any instruments other than your voice but damn bro, your voice is good enough on its own. I've seen you dance, you're one of the best dancers i've ever seen and you're in your fourth year of college. We have potential. I know we can do this if we try, but i can't make it happen alone. I need your help”

Roman looked lost. He wanted, oh so desperately he wanted, to make it happen. It had always been a dream of his to make it to broadway, but he wasn't wrong, they weren't lin manuel miranda, they were some twins from florida, they had no idea what they were doing. And yet. And yet he held out his hand to his brother.

“Ok. ok, we can try this. I can, I can make a score. We can do this”

Remus grinned again and took Roman's hand. He tugged him into the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling out his notebook and flipping to a bookmarked page. Roman sat next to him and looked over at it. There were a few doodles around a plotline that was both gorey and Romantic a la sweeney todd but also quite similar to ella enchanted. Remus grinned at the book and then started explaining.

“Ok so the main character, played by you presumably, is an author”

“Did you just write out your personal fantasy Remus?”

“No, shut up! Ok so he's written several books, like neil gaiman or terry pratchet level several, but those aren't all the stories he's made, he has several stories that have never seen the light of day. He writes his stories in notebooks and journals ordinarily, waiting until they’re fully developed to make them digital. In one of these notebooks there lies a bit of magic. So he writes in this unknowingly, writes of a powerful magician, and as he sleeps it awakes. The magician escapes and brings each of his hundreds of creations to life just the same as him. The characters run amok and the author awakes to see the most beautiful man he's ever met at the foot of his bed. It takes him seeing the magician running through his home to realize that these are his characters. And the man is the protagonist from his most famous novel, one he wrote as a guilty pleasure, writing of a man he had met in his dreams. And he finds that these characters were pulled from different points in their books. The character had been pulled from the early pages, after he had suffered a major trauma and had no clue of the powers he possessed. So now, with his dream man in his living room, in pain from an event he had written, and gifted with emotionally driven powers, he has to fix this mess with the added hurdle of the character creating villains and fiends ready to destroy humanity as a whole with no way to stop. Along the way, some of his characters suffer mortal wounds at the hands of heinous and violent creatures, and all the author has is one magic notebook to fight them off. Romantic plot between the author and dream MC, with angst from the reality of once everything is dealt with, he will have to go back to the book. Thats what ive got so far, what do you think?”

Roman is starry eyed. It's far less violent than Remus’ normal brand of writing, it doesn't inherently include any sea monsters or snake men, and it's something Roman can really appreciate. He loves it, he can already feel the gears turning for songs and dances. Now that he heard the actual story instead of just going on the drawings, he saw far more nutcracker vibes from it. 

“Oh, and there's a happy ending or whatever that the author gets to like, marry the other MC, and everyone lives happily ever after. I know you like the cutesy shit”

“Remus this is amazing! I can't believe I hesitated, I already have some ideas for the score! Remus you're a genius. I love you!”

Roman launched into a hug with Remus, which had the other laughing. Remus hugged him back.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

It was Roman's turn to turn into a giggling mess.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[starsailorstories]

What are the favorite plants/animals of the crew of the Revelator?

Ahahaha ok DISCLAIMER: this is not a real answer to your question but. I just have to talk about Consider’s Moss

I’m so happy because I’m not sure where if anywhere I’ll have a chance to tell this story it’s just something I Know about them

So when Consider joined the Revelator crew she was of course already like, their world’s equivalent to a PhD in botany. And on top of that she was a vestal scientist, so doing science was a sworn devotion for her, and she always took that very seriously. So she kept up very extensive journaling, sample cataloging, and general documentation of specimens (in vol. 2 Lux still has a bunch of paintings she did of different plants) on every planet they went to. 

And at the height of the aula’s pursuit of them it came to light that she had written, and published, a paper on a type of moss she found growing on one of the worlds they visited in the Milky Way. Just dictated the thing in its entirety over lighthouse relay at the last outpost (which in itself is a scene because she probably didn’t pay--it’s the norm for vestals to request favors on behalf of the work of their goddesses and as long as it’s actually for the vestal’s own sworn vocation most people will grant them, sometimes in exchange for intercession or something like that. So she probably was like “Excuse me, might I send a message for the causes of the Lady of the Vacuum” and the lighthouse keeper was like yeah sure and waved her in and then just stood there for like 6 hours as she read page after page like “You really need to go now” “5 more minutes!”).

This led to Panic And Consternation among the crew, and nearly to a dust-up between her and Bash (who had also left behind, and in this case I mean truly left behind, a life and career as a Respectable Citizen of the Empire for all this) which only didn’t happen because Cepheid intervened, because it could technically give the aula a last known location for them if the academic press that put it out bothered to look her name up and phone in a tip. And Consider was just like, “But they won’t.”

And you know? They didn’t.

So fast forward to about five quinturns later, time heals all wounds, Consider’s Moss is the unofficial botanical mascot of the Revelator. It’s a grand inside joke that it is to them what Sun Lilies are the empress and some of the marchiesas. And there maybe is a bit of symbolism to it in that it was--and they were--low and humble and easy to overlook, but circumstantially capable of causing just...SO much trouble.

A more straightforward answer is that Cepheid kind of adopted as a personal what in her language is called an auelok (pronounced like ow-lohk), a gliding, serpentine creature native to the high upper atmosphere of Caesura B. Aueloks are highly feared in Atennuan culture because they sometimes descend to the surface when wounded in a fight with another of their species, already hopping mad and capable of leveling entire villages. Cephie, through a combination of random luck, foolhardiness, and the fact that basically everyone in Derafior city learns to fight as soon as she learns to fly, managed to kill one in just such a situation when she was only about 6 quinturns old, which was actually what got her recruited into the citadels and later on into the imperial military. As she got older she came to sympathize with her trophy, who was destructive because she was hurt and confused. She came to see the encounter as emblematic of the need to, yes, defend oneself and one’s people against destruction, as her upbringing among the knights emphasized, but to do so carefully and compassionately, with both understanding and decisiveness. It’s not that she thinks she shouldn’t have killed the thing, exactly--she knows many more deaths would have resulted if she hadn’t--but that most violence stems from delusion, confusion, or pain, and that the act of doing away with its sources is occasion for sobriety and resolve rather than glorification.

[to-each-future]

Aarjav hummed softly as he groomed the chocobos. It was a quiet day at the ranch so he didn't expect a customer to walk up behind him, but Cephy did. He blinked down at her and smiled like he was supposed to and said his usual greeting. "Welcome to the Chocobo post! Can I help you with anything?"

[First Meeting] with Aarjav Stringer / @actual-flower-girl

oOoOoOo

Hands in the jeans pocket and shirt sleeves rolled up,Cephy strolled down. It was a particularly sunny and warm day, and theblue-eyed girl was starting to regret putting on a long shirt. Then again, itwasn’t like she had anything else with her besides her dead phone, a sonic screwdriver and somecash. The white shirt was a bad choice to being with; she knew she was aclumsy, which was very evident by the stains on the shirt.

Running her hands through her pink dyed hair, Cephytook in her surrounding: It was a humbly sized ranch, breeding and raising andgrooming chocobos.

Or stupid dodo’s as Cephy has dubbed them in her head.

With nothing better to do, she decided that it wastime to overcome her fear of riding creatures that were considerably muchtaller than her (her first horse-riding experience was not the best). Shedoubted that the squawking birds were any worse, but she was not taking anyrash chances.

With a new resolve, Cephy took in a deep breath,puffed out her chest slightly and raised her head, marching down the road toapproach a tall and dark-skinned guy feeding a chocobo chick.

Hearing her approaching, said person turned around andflashed her a kind smile – Cephy was sure that bright smile could turn anydaemons away.

“Welcome to the Chocobo post! Can I help you withanything?” he asked, his curly dark hair dancing with the light breeze.

Another thing that Cephy noticed is that she had tocrank up her neck to meet him in the eyes, but thank God he was making it a biteasier but bending down slightly.

Hm, good question. What would be a good answer tothat? Yes, hi hey! My name is Cephy and Iam human just like you, except I’m from planet Earth in the Sol system, foundin Local Cluster in the Milky Way Galaxy. I’m just killing time here until myfriend picks me up so I can finally go home and get my exam over with.

“Hi! I’m shit scared of chocobos but I want to getover that fear because riding oversized dodo’s seems like a fun thing to killtime.” Is what she blurted out instead, and prayed the ground would just openup and swallow her.

[sidrisa-blog]

Power and Magic

Read it here on AO3

Pairings: Loki x Reader and the lightest Sif X Thor

Chapter: 18/104

Warnings: the usual: sex, death, and violence with light smatterings of misogynoir

Summary: The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo. This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it's time for more men and more blood. But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival. It is too bad they don't deserve it. There is nothing to recommend him, Loki, Prince of Asgard. He is rude and cold and childish. You try to find some merit in him. You find none. Exactly none. But maybe, after trial and tribulation,

You will.

It gets cold, fast. Keeping your cloak tight around your neck doesn’t do it any more. You’re shivering when the last orange rays of sunset streak the sky, and you’ve lost feeling in your fingers and toes by the time that light disappears. The sky, what you can see of it anyway, is all grey now, clouds hanging over you like swords ready to drop, but instead of steel they release soft puffy white flakes.

Cephalus nickers and whines, he’s not as cold but he’s suffering too. You can’t let him kick off into a gallop again because you don’t know where you’re going and you can’t make it harder for anyone else to find you.

And you hope people are trying to find you.

You don’t wonder if he’s coming for you, you know he is, you have to believe he would. He cares enough right? You mean something to him, don't you? He wouldn’t just write you off?

I’m sorry mistress, I don't know where to go.  Cephalus paws at the snow, hoof swiping away an inch of accumulation, the layer getting thicker by the second.

You lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck, leeching heat from him. Your legs hurt and your head is throbbing.

You get sleepy.

**

You light up like a beacon in his mind, a lighthouse in his dark thoughts. You chase the shadows from his consciousness and become his sole point of focus. Loki flexes his magic, plucks it like the strings of an instrument feeling sound reverb, strike you, and travel back.

“North.”

Thor, Sif, Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral accompany him on horses.

“How far?” Thor pulls his cloak over his head to shield his eyes from the sleet.

“I can’t tell, just ride north. Hya!”

**

Cephalus is smart, you named him well. He finds for you a cave.

If you ever see Niti again, you’re burning your dresses and wearing nothing but your Captain’s leathers for the rest of your life. One of your slippers fell off during your quest for shelter and you can’t feel anything from your knees down, like your legs are just frozen stumps. They make it very difficult for you to pry yourself off the horse, you manage but end up falling into a drift, ensuring from the flakes in your hair down to your feet you are covered in melting snow, dripping wet.

You take Cephy’s reins and he helps pull you to your feet, together you walk into the cave. You’ve nothing to light a fire with, you can’t even find anything in all this darkness dry enough to strike together to try. So you sit, and wait for daylight.

Or death.

Cephalus lays down next to you, he keeps you warm, but unless you can crawl inside his belly, the places he can’t touch freeze.

You’re getting sleepier.

**

He calls your name but the wind takes it and returns no echo.

Again.

Nothing.

He pulls on his magic again, your face explodes in his mind, illuminated with little points of light. The picture is clearer than it was, sharper, in his mind you smile and that unnamed power flares again amplifying his magic.

“Princess! Answer me!”

“Loki?”

**

You hear him call for you, not from outside but inside your mind. Like he’s right there whispering in your ear, his chest to your back, his arms around you.

“Princess! Answer me!”

“Loki?”

“Princess! Where are you?”

“I...I...m in a cave somewhere. P-Please, it’s so cold.” Your teeth chatter so hard you feel like you could slice off a bit of your tongue.

“Princess,” It really feels like he’s here with you. He’s close, and warm. He smells like leather and lightning and his arms make you feel like everything is going to be okay. “Princess, Listen to me.” You almost feel his breath on the shell of your ear, you shiver and it’s not from cold. “I am coming for you.”

**

There are no caves around, just flat land and trees, but the land juts up in the distance, the flat lands give way to rocky hills, that might be where you are.

“Thor! Those hills!” He points. “Spread out, search for a cave, she’s in a cave!”

“Aye!”

“Princess we’re coming.”

He waits for you to respond, but he hears nothing. “Princess! Do you hear me?!”

“Leav-ve me a-alone!”

**

You strain to hear more of Loki, to keep him as near you as you can manage, but you just can’t keep your eyes open, you’re freezing, and hurting and so very tired. Just a moment's rest, you bargain with yourself, just a moment, and when you wake up, Loki will be here and you’ll be safe.

Cephalus nudges your head with his nose, snorting in distress.

Don’t sleep mistress, you can’t.

“Well, well, well boys. Looka here.”

This voice comes from outside and it doesn’t hold you, it shoves you. A booted foot kicks you in the stomach, sending you sprawling and startling Cephalus to stand.

“Whatcha got there?”

You’re too groggy to count them, but your fuzzy mind can guess who they are.

Highwaymen.

“Fellas.”

“Hey!” A lighter feminine voice protests.

“Al’right Fellas plus one . Looks like we found some fun in all this shitty snow. You look like you’re from the palace. Whatcha doin’ so far from ‘ome love?”

“Leav-ve me a-alone!”

You know how to take a hit. And if you weren’t exhausted, frozen, and generally still recovering from almost dying a few months ago you could take hits far heavier than that, but your ribs sting like they’re broken and it’s very hard to breathe.

They mock the chattering noises you make, laughing. Cephalus nudges you, reminding you he’s still here and he can help. Strangers would make a normal horse skittish and jumpy, Cephalus stands still, his reins at your hand. You could mount and bolt but they’ve come in from the outside blocking the entrance to the cave and Loki’s coming for you, you have to stay put.

“Leave ‘er alone she says. But you look so cold madam. We could warm you up. For a price.”

The bandits snicker and move closer to you, hemming you deeper into the cave.

“Your horse alone looks like he’s worth a fortune. Hand me the reins and whatever else fancy you got and we’ll let you snuggle up next to--”

“One of us!”

“To our fire.” The leader corrects.

Cephalus neighs his answer and you agree.

“No.”

They laugh harder.

Then they reach for their swords.

**

He doesn’t understand your sudden refusal, you were just begging for his help. He calls for you again, pulling hard on his magic, the strings starting to fray and the picture of you in his head gets dimmer until it blows out.

“Princess?”

He can’t see you anymore but he feels you, he feels your deadly terror before it winks out completely and the connection is severed. You are cut off from him, it feels more like your cut out of him, excised from his heart. He screams your name, your terror is now his.

“Princess!”

He needs to find you. Now! He breaks away from his brother and the rest, kicking his horse into a blind run. The hills grow larger and closer, the snow makes it hard to see, the wind impedes carried sound, but he needs neither to find you. Whether it’s the bracelet he’s cued into or just that power leading him to you, he doesn’t know, doesn’t care.

He has to find you.

**

Terror melts the ice in your limbs, makes your heart and mind race. Cephalus is calm and steady, his presence a reassurance.

That you won’t be fighting alone.

It is a mark of pride for one of your warriors to mount their horse in seconds and a warrior never forgets.

You have not forgotten.

You shout and Cephalus swings his heavy neck, the momentum enough to help you into the stirrup and your leg over on the other side of his body. A man dashes forward, sword flashing even in the thick darkness of the cave.

“High!” You shout and Cephalus rears, a mighty hoof striking your attacker just under his chin. 2000 pounds of angry, protective horse catching a man in the face. The bottom half of his skull shatters and he is dead before he hits the ground.

Someone screams, Cephalus screams, another bandit slashes at him, drawing a long red stripe of pain across the horse’s shoulders and neck. You pull his reins hard right and turn Cephalus’s body to create room between you and them.

Had you a halberd, this would be over in seconds. One good swing and you can take more than one head. But the heir of Crimson Rabbit is a weapon in his own right, as he turns he flicks his long tail in the face of the next closest assailant, blinding her long enough for him to swing fully around, kick his out his back leg, and cave the woman’s chest in.

Arms are around your thighs and ankles, pulling, you feel like your leg is going to dislocate from the joint. Another pair of hands reach for Cephalus’s reins to control him, he’s still worth far more alive than you are.

So while Cephalus kicks and screams, struggling with the man trying to pull you off him, you give the other man exactly what he wants. You let go of the reins, throw them forward, and they’re long enough to miss his hands and wrap around his neck.

“Rear!”

Cephalus obeys even as the arms reaching for you get a good hold and pull. As he rears up, you are torn from the saddle and the man wrapped in the reins is yanked forward until he looses his balance and falls to the ground.

Right under Cephalus’s hooves.

There’s only one left and he’s got you, pulled you out of the saddle and into the dirt. There’s no time to scream, you don’t have a weapon. You can’t fight a sword in silks it’ll tear through you, one clean cut, messy with blood, right in half.

Cephalus tries to kick the corpse off his his forelegs while kicking with his back hoping to catch the last attacker with a deathblow to the back of the head. But he’s out of range. He’s going to stab you before Cephalus can here, it’s too quick, the fight is over and done in seconds and you’re the last one to die.

He’s too quick.

The magic is too quick.

Green lightning strikes the man in the back and he falls forward, almost crushing you under him.

“Princess!”

.....I’m so sorry

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

Thought I’d take a moment and plug my own fic series :)

Season 4 AU. Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham were married and living happily in Cuba together when the FBI catches up to them in a shootout. When both come to in the hospital, they are told the other one is dead and are placed back the in the BSHCI.

One year later, Buffalo Bill is out there skinning girls, and Jack Crawford deploys his new trainee, Clarice Starling against the darkest minds he still has access to. Will Clarice become the prey, or will she take control of the chessboard and find Catherine Martin?

First chapter is posted below, go read the rest here! Leave comments if you liked!

Will stands outside the door to their home in Cuba. He can smell the dinner cooking, hear the sounds of their dog yipping and an opera record in the player.

He savors all of these feelings and treasures them in his heart, and then pushes the door open. It’s not locked, they don’t have to lock the door here. Anyone would be a fool (and tomorrow's dinner) to dare enter without permission and ruin what they have.

Will removes his shoes and sets them beside the door on a special mat, and their dog barks in delight as she races over to sniff him. Will laughs, petting the dog on the head and rubbing her stomach.

“Will?” Hannibal calls from the kitchen.

“Sorry, darlin’," Will teases, knowing that Hannibal Lecter does not blush, but his face is notably warmer whenever he calls him that. “Cephy wanted attention. But I know you do, too, one minute.” He pets Cephy on top of the head one last time before heading into the dining room, dog following at his heels.

Will’s heart warms as he watches Hannibal looked up from arranging the roses in the handblown black vase that Will had given him for their anniversary that past year. Hannibal has that glorious smile on his face, and walks over to Will, pulling him into a deep kiss. Will’s fingers reach up, pulling his the longer, silvery hair just the way Hannibal liked, making him chuckle softly. After he needed to breathe, he tries to pull away, only for Hannibal to press his face against his neck.

“Will,” he sighed, his hand gently rubbing at a hard knot in Will’s neck. “My love, you’ve been away for so long.”

“Just all day, Hannibal,” Will says fondly, knowing that Hannibal hates being described as clingy even though it suits him perfectly.

“That’s why I made a special dinner,” Hannibal smiles, pulling away at last, leaning to the side to pull out Will’s chair for him. Will rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. Hannibal leans down and kisses him on the cheek before going into the kitchen.

Will grabs a few of the prosciutto roses off of the table and gave them to Cephy, but he was caught as Hannibal came back into the dining room with the plates.

“At the table, Will? She already has some in her dinner dish.”

Will only winks at him as Hannibal sets the plate down in front of him.

“Coq au vin, made with Burgundy bottled in your birth year, and a side of Swiss chard with crumbles of goat cheese, and just a hint of pomegranate juice reduction,” Hannibal murmurs in his ear, sending chills down Will’s spine as he slowly pours the sauce over the dish. "Bon appétit."

Hannibal then takes his own seat across from Will, staring into his eyes. Will smiles like he has a secret, as he spears a piece of the meat and swirling it in the blood-red sauce. Then he carefully lifts the forkful to his mouth, pulling the meat off with his teeth and chews it slowly.

Hannibal looks as though he is holding his breath.

“Delicious,” Will smirks. Hannibal looks at him with such fondness that he can feel it spreading through his body, warming like the wine the dish was soaked in.

They eat in this way for what felt like hours, staring into each other’s souls as they took bites of the delicious food until the air felt thick with wine and lust. As if on cue, Hannibal stands up just in time for the record to end.

“Do you care to dance, Will?” he asks, flipping through the record collection before selecting the perfect one. Will nodded, unable to fight the smile or deny Hannibal this simple joy. Hannibal takes his hand and kisses it gently before pulling him into his arms, a hand tracing patterns on his lower back. The dance is slow, no fancy steps that Hannibal has spent the past few weeks teaching Will. In fact, it seems like they are just swaying back and forth in tune to the music. The tension is thick like the smudge of compote on the corner of Will’s mouth, and Hannibal kisses it off, savoring the sweet flavor. They both break at the same time, clutching so desperately at each other, as though they were smoke that would slip through their fingers. Hannibal kisses him hard, stealing his breath away, and immediately Will feels his knees wanting to give out.

Most days felt like they ended this way. But they always got here differently. Sometimes Hannibal interrupted dinner, letting it get cold while he dragged Will over to the couch. Sometimes Will barely got in the front door before Hannibal has him pressed up against it, he got desperate when Will was away, letting dinner burn in the oven as he covers every inch of exposed skin in kisses. Funny how he always prided himself on patience until he finally had Will. Sometimes he wanted Will to be in control, and on those occasions, Will probably could have slowly choked Hannibal to death and he would have let him.

Sometimes it wasn’t necessarily sexual when Will got back home. Sometimes they ended the night with just dancing and then reading in bed for hours while Cephy tried to crawl under the blankets. Will always let her.

But now it is the exact opposite of those times. Now it is urgent they go upstairs, now.

“Bed,” Hannibal purrs against his mouth, and Will nods, unable and unwilling to let go of Hannibal. He smiles, pressing another kiss to Will’s lips, a softer one this time, before guiding them both up the stairs. They don't stop kissing the entire way.

“Hannibal,” Will hisses, trying to not bust his ankle but really, really, not wanting him to stop kissing him. “Why - why the fuck did we buy a house with a spiral staircase?”

His husband only smirked as he pushed him harder against the very thin stair rail. For a split second Will thought Hannibal would actually bend him over the rail backwards and kiss him. It would not be out of character.

“Elegance,” is Hannibal’s answer to Will’s question. “And it allows me to do this.” 

And then without a single warning, he physically lifts him up into his arms, causing Will to laugh, feeling dizzy and slightly drunk on Burgundy and lust. He gets another kiss, and then another, and then he lost track until he feels his back hit the bed. He opens his eyes and smiles at Hannibal, who is gazing at him in complete rapture.

“You can touch, doctor,” Will teases, stretching out in the expensive sheets, groaning softly. “Please.”

Hannibal lunges forward, ending up on top of Will and kissing the air right out of his lungs.

“You are my life, Will,” Hannibal murmurs against his ear. “You know that?”

“Conjoined,” Will breathes out. “Can’t survive separation. Love is too small a word, but I love you so much. Love you so much.”

“And I worship the very ground you walk on, Will.”

Will laughs, it’s so perfect, laying in this bed, so hopelessly in love. “You - you can just tell me that you love me, Hannibal.”

“I refuse to be so passé,” is the muffled response Will gets as Hannibal pops open his shirt button, kissing him there. He pauses for a moment before pulling himself back up, hovering just above his lips.

“I love you, Will.” And then they share the softest, gentlest kiss. One that slowly gets more heated, more intense....

and they start going lower, and lower, and lower...

“Fuck...please, Hannibal, please, don’t stop, don't stop.”

“Will.”

“Hannibal.”

“Will.”

“Hannibal.”

“Will.”

“Haaannibal....”

“Will!”

Will’s eyes shot open then, sitting straight up and groaning as he felt the cold, uncomfortable mattress of the cot in his cell. He stretched his neck out, wiped the downpour of sweat off of his forehead. Not fucking again, he thought with gritted teeth as he glared over at where Frederick was staring from the other side of the bars.

“Enjoying your show, Frederick?” he chose to say, knowing that the doctor was easiest to deal with when he was flustered. “What - what do you want?”

Frederick visibly bit his lip, trying to find the best way to broach the subject, deciding eventually to go with, “You were moaning Hannibal's name in your sleep. Again.”

“Yeah? Good thing I got the shame knocked out of me in that cliff dive,” Will snapped, trying to get his breathing under control. The endorphins rushing through his veins faded fast at the sight of Frederick’s smug face. Every time he was woken up from dreaming, it felt like a rug had been yanked out from under him, like he was falling off another cliff but with no support this time.

“I’m changing your medication, you shouldn’t be sleeping so much, it’s not good for you.”

“I have worse nightmares when I’m awake,” Will said, staring at the tan line on his ring finger. The wedding ring was long gone, Jack probably had it melted down or something ridiculous like that. They had taken it when he was in the hospital, after he woke up with a new bullet scar, after he found out that Hannibal was - was -

“You’ve been having these dreams for weeks, Will, it’s not healthy for you to still be-”

“In mourning for my dead husband?” he shot back. Frederick took a deep breath and then tried to look sympathetic.

“Will, you know you can tell me if-”

“All you want to do is grasp at my mind like how a nervous virgin grasps at a pair of panties on prom night,” Will rolled his eyes, forcing down bitter, angry tears. Instead, brittle laughter came out.

“And please, Frederick,” Will said, stretching back out onto the cot, sighing deeply like he was remembering something (someone) better (he was), “I wouldn’t trade years of name brand for the cheap knockoff.”

He turned over to his side, facing the wall. “I’m going back to sleep, Frederick, don’t wake me up. Ever again.”

Frederick opened his mouth to snark back when his phone rang.

“We’ll discuss this in your next session, Will.”

“Don’t get too excited,” was the only reply.

Frederick sneered then, answering the phone as he left Will alone. “Jack? No, I didn’t get to tell him, he was - well, never mind, doctor-patient confidentiality, you know. Just make sure you brief your new...trainee... on Will. Tell your new canary about her coalmine before you drop her in here blindly. And warn her that he’s going to be in a very bad mood in the morning.”

“Will?”

Will is back in Cuba now, back in bed, back where they left off, but it is bittersweet now. He can't stop the tears from falling, even as Hannibal kisses them away softly.

“Will, I’m here. I’m here, love, don’t cry.”

“No,” Will whispers, his voice sounding as though it would shatter like glass if he spoke above a certain volume. “You’re not here. Not anymore. I - I miss you, Hannibal, I need you back. Please come back.”

Hannibal pulls away then, looking Will deeply in the eyes before brushing away the hair in his face and kissing him long and slow. He then curls up beside Will, pulling him close to his chest and Will almost starts to cry again. He presses against Hannibal, his eyes squeezed as tightly together as possible, and then everything is just a breath away from being real.

“I’m always here, Will. All you have to do is close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

[slashyrogue]

No one would have suspected they lived there. 

And that’s just why they chose it. 

Hannibal took quickly to having much less in life, much to Will’s surprise, and as the weeks turned into months Will suspected he may have never really cared for much of his old life at all. 

Except Will. 

He cared for Will. 

The soft smiles, attentive glances, and barely there touches drives that point home the first year. Will tries to tell himself it’s a trick, a clever manipulation, but when he pulls away again the hurt he sees shows otherwise. 

So he starts to smile back. 

Hannibal begins to join him in fixing the house, learning things that Will would never have thought he’d want to, and sweaty grins turn to laughter as he drops his guard. 

He’s missed him so much. 

They kiss on the “anniversary” of their deaths, clinking glasses in a toast while they watch the stars with Cephie laying in Will’s lap. He can’t resist pulling the front of Hannibal’s collar and taking a taste that lasts longer than he expects. 

Hannibal looks shocked but happy when they take a breath, and Will brushes the longer hair from his temple when he smiles. 

“Happy Anniversary, Hannibal.” 

They fall into bed after a week of touches that mean more, smiles filled with heat, and Will knows he’ll never forget the first time he presses a kiss to Hannibal’s neck as he sinks into him. 

“I love you.” 

The whisper is so soft but Hannibal groans, grabbing his hand, and when they both succumb he still holds on. 

“I love you.” 

Will believes him, as ridiculous as it seems, and when he wakes up the next morning his life is different. Hannibal fucks him into the mattress that night so hard his body aches for the whole of the next day. 

And asks him to do it again.

Year two they kill their first stranger, making a masterpiece of his body that they burn right after. Will watches the flames in Hannibal’s embrace and shivers when he kisses his neck.  

“I knew we’d be beautiful.” 

Their new dog’s nametag says Honeybun but Hannibal changes it to Eros. 

Will calls her Rosie. 

Year three Hannibal writes his first novel. A smutty romance novel that makes Will blush and refuses to let him publish. 

The title is William. 

He keeps the only printed copy by his bedside for the rest of the year and Hannibal draws pictures in the margins. 

Year four Will sells his first boat in town, a beautiful wooden sailboat that the owner names Sittin’ Pretty. 

Will has to resist the to kill his only customer for four days until Hannibal buys him two new dogs. 

Hamlet and Romeo are guard dogs, larger than Will usually likes, but they fall in love with Hannibal immediately. 

Will, of course, repays him with sex in the back of their pickup truck. 

Hannibal says the pleasure was worth the pain in his back for the two days that follow. 

Year five they contemplate paying the house, but Will likes the way it keeps people away. Hannibal instead paints the house inside and when the dogs knock over the paint can running through the mess he doesn’t get as upset as Will expects. 

He just gives them baths and begins again. 

Will helps this time, and later when he’s looking at their white bedroom ceiling after Hannibal makes love to him so slow he can stand the wait he smiles. 

“We’re home.” 

Hannibal presses a kiss to his cheek. “You have always been home to me. No matter where we are or how far apart.” 

Will sighs, pulling him closer, and closes his eyes. 

“You’re home to me too.” 

[slashyrogue]

Dear Future Husband 4/?

Continued from: Dear Future Husband 3

Encephalitis came into their lives five days after Will’s kill. She was mildly expensive as per Hannibal’s request, a Havanese puppy that cost nearly a thousand dollars, and the tiniest little ball of fluff Will had ever attempted to train. His days soon became consumed with her in between nights with Hannibal. The urge to touch him was still there but Will would use Cephie as a buffer to keep his hands full. 

Hannibal still looked at him with longing that was hard to ignore but he did. 

Will instead distracted himself with all the things that had happened in this reality. There were no flying cars but most stores were self automated and the richest still had the best toys. He read up on the past decade via the computer eyewear, laying back in bed and voice searching everything he’d missed. Everyday he learned something new and it only took him three days of searching to look up those in his past life. 

Jack Crawford was still alive but now retired. The FBI was searching for Hannibal as they knew the Will of this reality was long dead, and Freddy Lounds still ran Tattle Crime, though there were no new stories on Hannibal at all. Alana and Margot were both living with their son now older than Abigail had ever been allowed to be. Jimmy and Brian both went off radar but Will found a reference to them retiring early not too long ago. 

He found nothing on Hannibal at all but fake theories and fanfiction. 

His own articles spoke of his heroism at attempting to kill the monster Hannibal Lecter who authorities weren’t sure was alive at all. Molly was given a medal in his honor when they found his body on the beach. Will wondered if she really believed he would’ve come back to her. 

The Will of his time had barely had a chance to become his true self and he pitied him as much as envied. At least he got to go first. 

“Will?” 

Hannibal’s voice cut through his melancholy and Will took off the computer glasses. 

“Sorry I got caught up,” he mumbled, setting them on the bedside table. 

“I was attempting to take Encephalitis outside and she now refuses to come in. I do believe she’s going to need a bath once she’s been...apprehended.” 

Will smiled. “Has the Monster of Florence been bested by a puppy?” 

Hannibal’s blush made his heart ache. “She is very fast for an animal so small.” 

“That’s what the leash is for.” 

“I was just…” 

Will got up from the bed and headed for the doorway. “It’s fine, you’re not used to puppies. If you give them an inch they’ll take a mile.” 

“I was certain I could subdue her.” 

He laughed as they walked down the hall. “I’ll show you a trick that works every time.” 

The cool air outside felt good after he’d been cooped up for the last few hours, and when he walked into Hannibal’s yard he searched around for Cephie’s yellow coat in the dark. “Cephie, you want a treat?” he called out. 

A yellow fluffy head peeked out from behind a flower bed and ran at Will like he had steak in his hands. He grabbed her instantly and got mud all over his fancy clothes but laughed still. 

“I will remember that for next time.” 

Will looked up and saw Hannibal giving him that look again. He licked his lips. “Yeah, well...dogs like food.” 

He stood and carried Cephie through the door towards the kitchen sink. She barked happily as he turned on the warm water. 

“Can you get the shampoo?” 

Will tried to calm himself down as he heard Hannibal move around behind him. 

It had only been a few weeks now and every single time he saw that look it got harder not to give into the longing. 

He took the sprayer and wet Cephie’s head just as Hannibal handed him the dog shampoo. “Thank you.” 

“If you need help--” 

“No, we’re good.” 

Hannibal lingered for way too long but eventually left the kitchen. Will wondered if he was still watching them from the hall but forced himself to keep attention on Encephalitis instead. She loved baths and towel drying after even more. He sneaked her a treat after the blow dry and when all was finished watched her run off to destroy something no doubt. 

He sighed. 

“If you’re unhappy my offer still stands.” 

Will didn’t turn around. “I’m not unhappy.” 

“You don’t seem happy.” 

“Do you honestly know what I’m like truly happy? You didn’t know me outside of tormenting me. The moments we had weren’t much and….” 

Hannibal grabbed his shoulder and turned Will around roughly. “Do not diminish what I had with him in order to make yourself feel better for denying me. It’s an insult to the both of them and you know it.” 

Will blinked back tears. “I’m sorry, I just….” 

“I may not be the man you love but I am a man in love with you. Respect that or leave. It’s your choice.” 

Hannibal turned and left him alone in the kitchen. Will wiped the tears from his eyes. 

They couldn’t keep doing this. 

He let out another deep breath and headed for where he expected Hannibal to be but to his surprise found him somewhere else entirely. 

Encephalitis was pulling on one of Hannibal’s ties and instead of being angry he was laughing. 

Will’s quick intaked breath was so fast neither of them heard him but he watched the scene with all the love he was denying himself. 

This was what could’ve been his future. 

Maybe, just maybe, it could be his present. 

Hannibal suddenly seemed to notice him and let go of the tie, blushing just enough to be adorable. 

“We...she was enjoying the tie so I thought it best to give in.” 

Will smiled. “You’re going to spoil her rotten, aren’t you?” 

“Of course not.” 

He went to Cephie and picked her up off the floor. She licked his face when Will held her to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have…it was a shit thing to say.” 

Hannibal bent down to pick the tie up off the floor. “Yes, it was.” 

“I know you loved him.” 

He set the tie on his dresser and still didn’t look at Will. “I washed away all emotions that night on the beach,” he whispered, “Let myself forget feeling that vulnerable and attached to another human being.” 

Will blinked back tears. “Loving cows will do that to you.” 

He heard Hannibal scoff and when he turned Will saw the tears on his face. “I let myself forget and wash away all that love for over twenty years and in less than two weeks it’s all come rushing back again.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“So am I.” 

Will felt the puppy wiggle in his arms. “If you want me to leave…” 

“I never want you to leave. I want to have you in my arms, in my bed, and in my life until the day I perish from this world forever. But it’s selfish of me to keep something I don’t have a right to covet. You may leave if you’d like. I will not stop you and I have already had credit cards made in your name. They are on your nightstand. Spare no expense in finding what can make you happy, Will.” 

He froze. 

“I….” 

Hannibal walked over to his closet and pulled out a suitcase. He set it against the dresser and sat on his bed. Will’s heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. 

“If you do go,” Hannibal said, his voice thick with emotion as he still didn’t look at Will, “I would ask that you do not say goodbye. I could barely hear you say it the first time and I’m not sure I could live past a second.” 

Will could barely see through his tears. 

“No.” 

Hannibal lifted his head and stared at him. “No?” 

“I don’t want to go,” Will whispered, “I...I want to stay.” 

“If you think you’re doing me a favor, please do not---” 

He shook his head. “I belong with you,” he said, “In a hundred different lifetimes, in every reality, I belong with you.” 

Hannibal sniffled. “You’re certain?” 

“I’ve never been more certain.” 

He let out a long sigh and Will felt Cephie wiggle again. “Thank you for being honest with me, Will. If you need to put the dog in her cage I’m fine with you leaving me now for the evening.” 

Will shook his head and walked around to the other side of the bed. He sat down and let Cephie run over to Hannibal who pet her head. Hannibal laid down and watched him with that look of longing again. 

He laid down beside Hannibal and grabbed his hand. 

“It’s cold in the other room,” he lied, smiling, “Can I sleep here tonight?” 

Hannibal let out a deep sigh and ran his thumb over the top of Will’s hand. “Yes, that’s fine.” 

They stared at each other for what felt like ages until Cephie’s barking cut through the warm haze. 

“I need to put her in the cage.” 

“Of course. If you don’t wish to come back…” 

Will sighed. “I honestly don’t want to move at all.” 

“She’s fine for the evening.” 

“And if she tears up the house?” 

“I can buy us new things, Will. I can buy anything you’d like. But this moment, I cannot replicate nor do I want to try.” 

Will didn’t move all night long though when he woke they were just a little bit closer.

[slashyrogue]

Hey sweetie! For the one prompt/two drabbles challenge how about first time hand holding? (Cause I'm a complete sucker for hand holding.) Whatever ship you want. And only if you're inspired. Thank youuuuu!! ❤️❤️❤️

This has been forever to be finished but it’s finished and as always I can’t write drabbles. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will had never been someone who enjoyed shopping. 

He would go to grocery stores and grab his staples off the shelve by muscle memory, hardly bothering to interact or imagine new favorites. Clothes shopping he preferred to do online, which could be expensive but he knew his own measurements pretty well and didn’t have the hassle of store clerks attempting to sell him something he didn’t need. 

This of course all changed when he decided to run away with a serial killer. 

Hannibal loved to shop. 

He would wander stores with a slowness that was almost loving, reading boxes and touching things to experience them firsthand. 

Will often chose to stay home because of this, content in his solitude, and they were all the better for it. 

Their friendship had blossomed into something not quite a romance over the years, content in the comfort of things neither had tried to push beyond the line they’d slowly drawn between them. 

Then, of course, the line disappeared. 

And all because they needed zucchini. 

Will was the one in charge of Cephie’s supplies, always had been really since her arrival one late night in October. He made her food by hand, much to Hannibal’s amusement, and really should have known better. His dog food recipe was the same he’d had for his pack back in Baltimore with variations for when he thought perhaps she might be getting sick of the same thing. 

Hannibal had driven them to the nearest outdoor market as he insisted on fresh organic vegetables for the entire household. Will didn’t really see the reason for it but indulged him just this once. 

Ten minutes into their trek through the crowds he spotted the perfect zucchini and Hannibal haggled for price while he surveyed the people around them. 

He would not have even noticed the man in the yellow hat if not for the obnoxious neon of it, but when the dawn of recognition hit the man’s eyes Will froze. 

“Shit.” 

Yellow Hat man started to speed up, pulling out his phone, and Will poked Hannibal lightly. “Georges…” 

Hannibal was deep into conversation with the seller and hardly heard the fake name so he grabbed on his arm. “We need to go.” 

“I was just—” 

Will shook his head. “It’s time to fly.” 

Hannibal’s expression hardly changed but Will saw the small difference in his eyes. 

“Yes. Pardon me.” 

They started to rush away from the cart, pushing past the crowd, just as the whistles started to go off. 

Then they took off into a run. 

Will’s heart hammered in his chest, sick with fear, and when he grabbed Hannibal’s hand he squeezed hard as they sped up.  

Would they be caught? 

Could they get to Encephalitis in time? 

He wasn’t sure but first all they needed was to get away. There was a sound of running behind them, obviously the police, and as they turned a corner to his relief Hannibal found a nook in a building’s edge to hide from. They were pressed tight together, breath tickling skin, and Will stared into Hannibal’s eyes. 

It took him a second to realize he was still holding Hannibal’s hand. 

“I think we’re safe here,” Hannibal whispered, panting still from their run. 

“Yeah.” 

Hannibal’s gaze drifted to Will’s lips. “Will?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I like the feel of my hand in yours.” 

The words seemed to break apart something in Will.  

Their first kiss was a lot like everything else they’d done together. 

Hard, bloody, painful, and branding. Will’s mouth ached as Hannibal deepened with each passing moment, tasting him more and more until neither of them could breathe. 

He felt Hannibal’s hardness against his leg and moaned before he pulled him closer. 

Neither of them heard the cops go past them again, which was to their advantage because the police barely paid them any attention. They pulled away after neither could take it anymore, taking a deep breath as they stared into each others’ eyes. 

“A long time coming,” Will said, squeezing his hand, “I’m glad it did.” 

Hannibal smiled and lifted Will’s hand up to kiss. “As am I. Now I do believe we have plans to make.” 

Will grinned. “Lots and lots of plans.”

Their walk back to the car was long but neither of them cared. 

They both liked how it felt to hold hands the whole way there. 

[sidrisa-blog]

Power and Magic

Read it here on AO3

Pairings: Loki x Reader and the lightest Sif X Thor

Chapter: 16/104 Wild Horses

Warnings: the usual: sex, death, and violence with light smatterings of misogynoir

Summary: The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo. This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it's time for more men and more blood. But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival. It is too bad they don't deserve it. There is nothing to recommend him, Loki, Prince of Asgard. He is rude and cold and childish. You try to find some merit in him. You find none. Exactly none. But maybe, after trial and tribulation,

You will.

You know this horse. You delivered him from his mother. You slept in the barn with him, was with him when he took his first shaky steps on new legs. He’s whip smart, all your people’s horses are, but he is exceptionally so. That’s why you named him Cephalus. “The Brain.” There was no finer animal in this world.

You’re in tears, no way to stop them, you started crying the moment you heard the neigh, knowing his cry anywhere. You thought he died with Hava but there he is standing--rearing-- before you, ready to bite this poor man’s hand off and call it a day.

“Cephalus!”

You break free from Niti, you don’t need her legs anymore, you’ve found yours. Cephalus hears you and stops his tantrum long enough for the Edvard fellow to grab his reins.

“Gotcha helbeast!”

Incensed, Cephalus bites the man’s wrist hard, bolting free of him the moment he’s released. He leaps over the low fence of the corral and gallops across the open field toward you.

Mistress!

Niti shrieks, assured you’ll be trampled into the grass but Cephalus rears high and comes to a stop inches from you, nudging you desperately with his nose.

No one understands you, joy’s knocked the sense and the common tongue right out of you. Cephalus whinnies, pressing as much of him against you as he can, speaking the horse language you don’t understand trying to make you feel how much he missed you.

And though you can’t comprehend him, you know.

“Princess!” Niti, swallowing her heart so it returns to her chest from her throat, approaches, extremely wary of the horse. “Seems like you two ’ve met before.”

Cephalus paws the dirt and nods his head, mimicking your own nod.

“This is my partner, Cephalus.”

“Partner? The Low Countries are more liberal than I thought.”

You and Cephalus fix Niti with the same glare. “Not like that! We don’t own horses. It’s a partnership, lifelong in most cases. Mutually beneficial. Losing a horse, especially a warhorse is like losing a limb. I was walking around missing the rest of my legs, and he’s been here the whole time. Tack and Bit, I am so glad to see you.”

You more mistress, these Asgard men are awful.

“Ladies!” A man, the one in the corral with Cephalus reaches for his reins and the horse submits, too close to his mistress to cause a ruckus. “Apologies for the wild horse, it’s a good thing you managed to stop him. I shudder to think what would have happened if he hadn’t!”

The man is kind faced, he gives his smiles away easily and pays for it with the lines etched into the ruddy skin around his eyes and mouth. His bright blue eyes are wide and searching, fearful one of you is hurt.

“Unhand him. He stopped because he wanted to.”

“Edvard!” Someone screams from the stable entrance, an older looking bearded man. “Don’t think this means you’ve gotten out of paying us!”

“I’ll get you your bloody money! HOLD ON!” He bellows, the red in his face deepening about the ears and cheeks. He’s soft bodied, no soldier, the build of a nobleman who’s done aught else but bet on things and argue about them.

“Apologies again Mistress…”

“Princess.” Niti corrects because she knows you really weren’t going to do it yourself.

Edvard mouths the word ‘princess’ shocked. “You’re the Princess! The Princess. The one from the horselands and this..”

“Is my comrade, let him go!”

He releases the reins immediately and Cephalus, glad to be free of him prances behind you and away from him.

“No wonder you tamed him, they say your people and horses are of a kind.“

“We are not sir. But he is my partner and friend. He knows my mind as much as I know his. Are you hurt?”

Edvard rubs his bitten wrist, there are indents of his teeth but the skin remains unbroken. “Oh no your highness, he stopped before any real damage…”

Your start inspecting Cephalus, making clear your question was for the horse. He looks good, shiny coat, glossy mane.

“They feed you? Run you?”

Cephalus nickers softly.

“Good. Good.” You pat the horse's neck reaching for your pocket of sweets you forget isn't there anymore. Cephalus enjoys chewing on the anise candies your old stablemaster made. He said he never groomed a steed who didn't like them. Tomorrow you'll venture to the kitchens and ask if they can make something similar. But for now…

“Princess, if you would, I have to return the horse to the stables before they notice he's missing.”

“You will not! He is in my care now as is proper.”

You grin, and Niti knows your thoughts before you utter them.

“Princess! Don't! You're not ready!”

You toss an imperious grin at Niti.

“Thank you, sir, for saddling him for me.”

It’s not as difficult for you as you thought it'd be. Leg in one stirrup, lift, swing, and your whole again. Where you belong, snug in the saddle of your comrade.

“Princess! You're in a damn dress. Don't!” Niti curses, helpless to stop you from the ground.

He knows to run, you don't make a sound, you don't suck your teeth or squeeze your legs or shout Volé-- the command to fly. He simply takes off on his own.

Wind tangles in your hair and stings your eyes closed. Cephalus is your eyes now and you trust his better than your own. The creeping ache in your legs melts away, displaced by wind burn as your dress hikes high revealing bare skin. You're likely indecent but you dare a man to catch you to see. You can out run lighting and best a Valkyrie on the wing. You are faster than sound and you know this because you never hear your scream of joy losing it somewhere in Cephalus’s trail of dust.

You fly, wingless. You release the reins, bold enough spread your arms out, the air whipping over and under affecting the sensation of flight. You stay grounded though, holding on with skill, talent, and more luck than there is strength in your legs.

Cephalus warns you, you feel his muscles shift and stretch, preparation for a jump. You take the reins in hand again and you urge him on as he clears a hedge, forquarters clipping the greenery spraying leaves in your face.

You just laugh and Cephalus laughs with you.

Cephy is a brilliant steed, even your mother agreed. He was not her gift, warhorses cannot be gifted. They are chosen before birth, bloodlines researched in the annals of meticulously maintained and updated genealogies. You chose his mother, the Sages chose his sire, and together they crafted a horse to rival Crimson Rabbit, the God of Horses in your land.

“He runs over 1000 miles without stopping,” the Sage told her, reciting the old mythologies. “He can leap rivers and cross mountains as though running on nothing more than rolling grass. He is dangerous riderless, and deadly when coupled with a doughty warrior and you Princess, have seemed to have birthed his son.”

How far away is home? How many crossed mountains or leapt rivers would it take to get there? You feel like you could run all the way home like this. Cephalus has read your heart in the way only he could and made its desire his command.

Take her home.

You see it in your head, clear as diamond crystal. Charging in on Cephalus, in your Captain’s armor, your mother’s Crescent Halberd in your hand. You challenge the King and his Princess, you defend what’s yours and take it back with bloody hands. The people sing and cheer, overjoyed you’re home. You’re home. Se’risa is with you and you are home.

But you’re not in armor, you’re wearing a dress. You don’t have your mother’s halberd, it was lost on the battlefield. And as you are, you can’t manage to keep a simple dagger much less fight for a kingdom back. Cephalus knows none of these things, that you have no home.

“Cephy hee!”

The horse slows up, canters into a stop. You pat his neck. “Well done, Cephy. Well done.”

Then you look around and have no idea where you are.

It's a green field, no natural markers to place you, you can't even see the palace anymore. Cephy faces west, into the setting sun, but getting back won't be as easy as turning him around and running full tilt the way the you came. You jumped rivers, cut through a copse of trees, bore east down a gentle slope, and stopped here with no way of knowing which way is back.

Shit.

The sun is westerly and sinking fast. You have an hour of daylight left and there are heavy grey clouds borne aloft by quickly cooling winds from the south.

Shit.

You're in a dress made for spring days, not winter nights. No one knows where you are or would even assume you’re missing. You are a princess, dressed and jeweled like one and there might be bandits in these hills.

Shit.

Another thing you need to know about me: I will 100% take the opportunity to make a reference to Cowboy Bebop. I’m not sorry.