“Run! You said you’d work out with me!”

It had been something new to try together, something that Cam always did when they were truly upset. Now, with their life more together, they were trying to change that. They didn’t want to have things that they only did when they were upset anymore, they wanted to have habits, real, healthy-ish habits. And that included running.

Exercise was always easy for the ex-dancer, their stamina something strong and durable after years of dance. In fact, perhaps it was a bit too durable.

Cam glanced over their shoulder, brown eyes searching as they slowed down to a light jog, then paused to run in place. Where had he gone? Hadn’t he been right behind them just a moment ago-

They caught sight of a long ponytail hanging over the back of a park bench and made a bee line there, their own curly hair pulled up in a sloppy bun, sneakers pattering against the cement path as they retraced their footsteps. Sure as rain, there he was, slumped down in the bench like a beanbag with all the pellets leaked out, much redder in the face than he had been when they left the loft a little less than an hour ago.

“Arley.” Cam toned, keeping their pace as they jogged in place. “What are you doing?”

Their boyfriend, for his part, looked like drawing breath was a struggle, and they recognized the face he made when he decided he wasn’t moving for at least an hour. It was the same face he made when he finally sat down after work, when Cam felt bad for wanting anything more than just curling against him.

“Taking a break.” the exhaustion in his voice tugged at Cam’s heart strings in ways that were completely not allowed. They’d barely made it a quarter through their path, and Arley was already... already...

“I’m sorry, Cami.” he sounded so sincere, even as breathy as he was, still trying to get more air to his lungs. “You’re so fast, I can’t keep up. We can start again in a moment.” 

Cam stayed silent for a beat, their eyes sliding from his hooded eyes, to the long strands of hair plastered to his brow, to the slight part to his lips. He was trying not to look as exhausted as he clearly was. Slowly, their hand came up and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, trying not to take too much pleasure in the way he leaned his head after their hand even with his eyes half closed.

“I think we should head back home.” Cam said, finally, looking back toward Arley’s apartment.

“Really?” The relief in his voice was so apparent that he immediately swallowed and tried to sound more hesitant. “Because we can keep going. If you want.”

Cam kept their eyes on the path, trying to hide a smile. “Nah.” they said, as though they didn’t see him immediately sag in relief. “I want to go home.”

“Okay.”

“And we can walk there.”

“I love you.” 

Cam bit back a laugh, extending a hand for Arley to help him to his feet.

“Don’t touch me, we’re fighting” for @rhellacious‘s OC Del and my Triis

“Triisy.” She was saying, in that voice that he loved to bits, that voice that made him want to roll on his back and present himself, that voice that was the audio equivalent of a grope to the groin. “Triisy, stop that, you know you can’t ignore me.”

Triis, for his part, kept his eyes on the holo reader he had bought at some odd black market while Kal was clothes shopping, his jaw set and his eyes - the color of a clear blue Sakroemi sky when all the suns were raised - set on the report Kos had sent him to review. It was all political he-said-she-said, the Advisor equivalent of small talk, that’s what these reports were, but The Order wanted it all documented and taken care of. The Order wanted... well, Order.

Meanwhile his own personal chaos deity, Delmire, patron goddess of anarchy, slave freeing pirate extraordinaire, placed her hand on his knee.

Triis was trying very hard to keep his breathing even. He could feel her gaze on him, feel those bright green eyes, luminous like a predator's, tracing his features, waiting for any telltale twitch of his facial features, waiting for his hair to change to any color that had even a hint of blue or purple. 

“Triisyyyyy~” She whined, like the sweetest song, like the sound of the waves hitting sand, her other hand coming to his knee as her fingers slid up and up and up, from knee to thigh, his eyes stuck on the same line of text, trying to remember that Sakroemi need air to breathe. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy?” 

The Advisor, for his part, gave a noncommittal grumble, trying to act like his hair wasn’t going blue, trying to pretend that his mind could focus on anything else when she was around, trying to put up a front, like his willpower didn’t turn paper thin and wobbly when she so much as reached out and whispered his name.

“Triiiiiiiiiisbaiiiin.” Her lips were against his throat, and his eyelids were fluttering closed, clenching his jaw against the need to melt, the desire to become malleable beneath her hands, to be reshaped into anything she wanted simply becuase she’d say it was him. “Don’t you want to be my best boy?” 

Against his will, he let out the softest whimper. His white flag waved, her victory a grin against his throat. He felt it all of a sudden, his dawning realization, like heat beneath his skin, like his hair going fully blue.

All at once he had taken her hands, and he was flipping her, pinning her down on the cool durasteel floor, his hips against hers, her eyes - green like the ocean, like a lizard’s skin, like the scales of a million tropical fish - wide and sparkling with excitement as he held her hands above her head.

She was beautiful in the way a sand snake was, coiled and bright eyed and watching your every move, still as a stone, but you knew that any moment, any movement, and that would be your death, swift and sure and burning, that from the point she touched would come the fire in your veins that would consume you.

He felt her gaze from across the table, felt how those bright green eyes tracked his movements, minute as they were. Knew that the prince at his side was unaware of this, that he thought that the Sith's gaze was on himself, that the galaxy revolved with Kalduur as it's axis, everything else only an idea, only a blur of light that would have to be reconsidered in the next revolution. Kal was the sun and Triis was just the nearby planet too used to being burned to do much else but deflect meteors.

And still her gaze, burning him from across the few feet of durasteel between them while he kept his gaze on the briefing happening at the head of the table, Hux speaking, then his cousin, their similar hair colors making something in the Advisor's stomach twist. Love, it seemed, was everywhere.

And across the durasteel, luminous green eyes, burning, burning....

"Of course we have to think about the cultural significance of an attack on this day." Kalduur was saying, his own eyes glowing. "Diplomacy on this date would serve a far better purpose-"

"And why would we need to worry about such a primitive culture? They have a large population, yes, but the attack would be swift. The loss for us would be miniscule." Hux's arms were folded behind his back, his chin raised as his eyes stayed trailed on the plans, not even sparring his Royal a glance.

Triis bristled, his voice cool while he toned "If we do not the Order will be painted as monsters, and we want to be the gracious saviors, then a diplomatic route may be more beneficial. While we are well aware that the Order has ample numbers that can be cut down by a small percentage, it seems redundant to go into a planet expecting to lose a few hundred troopers when we could cut the loss to a single squadron or two."

The advisor met the head General's eyes evenly, pastel blue gaze almost glowing with  ire until Hux looked to his apprentice. "Is this true, Kosmik?"

For her part, his cousin did not even blink, violet eyes trained on her tablet as her fingers moved over it quickly, examining the screen for a moment before nodding curtly. "It does seem that a diplomatic approach may cut down on the loss percentage."

"Then we will send our diplomats first." And that was that. The meeting was moving on, and Triis couldn't help but give a little smirk.

That was, until he looked forward, forgetting in his small victory that he had been keeping himself from looking in that direction for a very specific reason.

And there she was, eyes bright and watchful, sitting much straighter than she had been before he had spoken up, eyes somehow more alert, as beneath the deep blue clay his hair took a turn toward blue as well.

An elbow bumped his own, and then he was looking at Kal, meeting his friend's smile with a exasperated look as the royal leaned forward to whisper "Good work, Baiiny, now we'll be going on planet for a little while!"

Triis elbowed him back, not bothering to answer as he pointedly faced the end of the table again.

"Aw come on, isn't that what you want?"

Triis's hair turned slightly blue as his mind brought up an image. He wanted a lot of things, he wanted Sakroemi suns on his skin, sand beneath his feet, he wanted to hear the ocean even when the night was dead silent, feel the breeze come off the waves...

Her eyes were luminous as she gazed up at him, her nose resting against his pelvis, her lips wrapped around the base of his phallus while electric heat shot up his spine, the sound of the shower in the background and the steam in the air only making the heat that was collecting in his body more apparent. His brain was hazy, but she was everywhere, making his knees shake and his fingers tighten in her hair...

"Baiiny, come on, isn't this what you want?"

He swallowed thickly, feeling his phallus twist in its sheathe in acknowledgement of his thoughts, feeling those eyes, those bright green eyes trained on his every reaction.

Vinn and Rhell belong to @rhellacious and everyone else is mine lmao

This was supposed to be his wedding.

He didn’t care all that much, or at least that’s what Kal told himself. He was Kalduur-Alhn Allgaiih, first born of the Royal clan, brother to the queen.He wasn’t one for weddings anyway. And when Liiyaah came up to him, violet eyes sparkling with wonder, and proclaimed that the pilot she was in love with had finally decided to make them one in the eyes of the gods, what was he supposed to feel but a rush of apprehensive protectiveness so strong it reminded him of when he was young, when Kweenii had first came out of her pod and had looked at him like he was the only one who knew what was what. What was he supposed to do but smile in the way brothers were supposed to smile at sisters, happy because they were happy?

Kal thought that maybe Kos was a bit too surprised - anyone with eyes had seen where the two of them were headed, a breakneck path toward forever like a ship with a broken navigation system, entering an atmosphere and flying down down down, not knowing where the planet’s surface was, but sure to collide any moment - but how could he tell that to Liiyaah?

So when those bright purple eyes had looked at him, had sparkled with real happiness he hadn’t seen since they were young, had shined like they were about to glow, with no impending future incoming, when she had taken his hand and smiled with hair as bright as a sunset, what was he supposed to do but smile back at her?  What could he do but meet her “Do you think that Sakroem would be too much to ask?” with a promise that he’d see what he could do?

And when Kweenii had refused to answer his calls, he'd made a trip home, when Triis was off with his pirate and Rhell was off with her guard, when no one would tell him it was a bad idea. He'd met his sister with a political smile and they'd grasped forearms like professional strangers.

And when she told him each Royal only got to host one wedding in the palace, spoke of binding your soul to be sacred and singular, told him of the public and their opinions and tittered about how it would look, a runaway and a Maahno, married in the crown palace, spouting everything royals had been birthed to believe, and he'd looked. he'd looked into her eyes, eyes so bright purple, so pastel they almost looked pink like their father's, and he'd thought of eyes deep and dark and violet as the sky as the last sun dipped beneath the sea. He thought of eyes that were purple like the seawater after storm season, when the clay had mixed all throughout it, eyes that shined at him like he had finally earned his name, like he was and always had been enough.

He'd thought of Kos's eyes, and looked at his sister, his own flesh and blood, waiting for him to do what royals always did and keep his things for himself, to for once think of his family, of the royal name. he thought of the wedding he could have, the wedding he'd plan to perfection when he finally found his love, his Alhn, his one and only. He thought of finally being happy.

And he said "Give them mine."

Kweenii had paused, the political smile still half across her face, and looked at him like she hadn’t seen him in years. Those pastel purple eyes had swept his face, and for a moment, it was almost like they were kids again. Then, her advisor had cleared his throat in the doorway, and the smile was back, perfect and kind as a mask. She’d grasped his forearm and nodded and said “Consider it done, Duur.” And with that childhood nickname, he was swept up into planning what should have been his wedding.

Liiyaah had smiled and smiled through the holo messager, covered in furs that looked soft and majestic, even tinted blue like the messaging was. Large and soft, just like the man she spoke of like he hung all three suns every morning. That's what calmed the anxiety within him that ached for perfection in everything he did. He'd asked a question  and those eyes would look up at him, and her voice, always in charge, always so sure, went soft and calm and went "It's alright, Duur, I trust your judgement."

It was almost like what they said love felt like, warmth filling his face and spreading to his limbs, all the way to his fingers and toes. Even after everything, Kos still trusted him.

He didn't realize he was slack jawed until she laughed, a defensive retort on his lips until he noticed she'd dropped the holo, the 3D picture now her lifted from her place, held close in a bear hug still wrapped in her furs. Her pilot nuzzled into her cheek, and Liiyaah responded with giggles so sweet Kal felt it like a stomach ache, deep and sour like he'd downed too many shots and his body was telling him he'd wake up to regret it. The pilots nuzzling dipped to target her throat, and Kal felt like he had when he'd walked in on his mother crying when he was just four years old, a strong I should not be here coupled with a I don't want to see this.

Still, when Kos had turned back with those eyes of purple purple purple, he plastered on a smile and tried not to think of the fountain of alcohol that would be delivered within the hour.

"I'll leave you lovebirds to... it." He charmed, unsurprised when a large hand cut the transmission.

Now, everything was set. Purples and blues and accents of golden orange, whites scattered throughout for the void, glowing crystal centerpieces, seats that were Preyar feather pillows on the ground. There were sheer cotton curtains and hanging flowers that changed colors in the breeze, and a wide open section in the middle for dancing once the ceremony was through. He’d set up - or had others set up - a raised dais toward the courtyard’s edge, two large steps four steps across, ringed with golds and whites and purples, the sort of palette that would make the orange of Kos’s hair stand out like the sun. He’d gotten the outfits, double triple checking with not only the best clothmakers on Sakroem, but in the galaxy, making sure to take the time to get each piece of fabric, each wendii blessed by both temples, the Creator’s when the sun was highest in the sky, and the Void’s during the brief hours of darkness that came every day.

Creator above, he’d basically done everything for the ceremony but sew the clothes himself, and when he looked at the final product, the deep violet counterpoint to the white, the golds and oranges that blended so well together, he’d known, Void be damned, he’d known it would be perfect.

Then, finally, Kos had come see, her pilot a constant shadow as he showed them the set up, glancing at the younger Sakroemi the whole time, watching her eyes widen and sparkle, the way her highly judgmental, trained professional gaze swept everything, taking note of where it lingered, not even glancing down at where her hand was clasped with her… pilot’s. Pretending not to see the easy way her lips brushed his arm at any pause, the way his finger swept her hair out of her face when the curls were swept by the warm sea breeze, the way he’d lean down to brush his lips against her forehead. Instead he was the tour guide, playing a game of distraction, look here for the centerpieces, look here for the curtains, here for the way the tables would enter during the post-ceremony dance so that by the time they were done they could sit for the meal, here for where the priests would stand, here for the view, here for you and your boyfriend becoming what I will never be-

Kos’s fingers brushed his arm, and when he glanced down, she was smiling up at him, his words trailing off and lost, only seeing those eyes, purple purple purple, and then she was giggling and shaking her head. “See, I was worried that they’d be all… you know. About me being a runaway, and Vinn being a Maahno, but here we are, and everything is perfect. I knew I could trust you, Kaldii.”

And she kissed him on the cheek, and everything was okay again, at least for a little while.

The couplet to be had gone off, after that, to tour Sakroem properly, so that Liiyaah could show her pilot all the places she and Kal had grown to know each other, all the places that held significance to the best Advisor that Sakroem had seen in generations. All the places that had not been enough to keep her there.

He was being bitter.

Taking a deep breath, Kal put himself back into his work, back to tasting foods that the royal chefs made almost perfectly to his taste, watching the garnishes be added to the top of the dishes, all pastels and color changing fruit, tender meats and sparkling drinks, and enough alcohol to keep the entire Finalizer in a companionable mood, should they make the list. He firmly declined tasting the alcohol, claiming that he’d known the bartenders on Giilded quite intimately, and that starting a tasting now would have him down all sorts of memory lanes.

It took a full week before Triisbaiin appeared, hair a trepidatious green as he approached his Royal. Kal knew better than to look those vibrant blue eyes straight on, knowing what he was looking to see as he asked his questions, his “are you sure about this?”es and “how are you feeling”s. He was fine, he was fine, planning a royal wedding had always been a dream of his, he was happy to make this day perfect. Triis had watched with eyes as bright and blue as the sea in the sunlight, and after a long moment, he’d nodded, concern written all over his frame, even as Kal wondered when the young nervous advisor he’d known had changed into the confident man he saw before him. Perhaps it was the clothing - Kal always put a lot on the way clothing presented a person - since Sakroemi Royal Advisory outfits were always white as the void itself, and snug to the person’s chest, and today Triis’s tunic showed off his toned shoulders and arms. He had always been strong, but Creator knew that all those days working out on the Finalizer had definitely had a good effect.

“You have one guest allowed on the list, by the way, Triisbaiin.” Kal mentioned, trying to be as casual as possible as the two of them sat to sample the cake slices the bakery had sent over. Once again he felt those Arthuus eyes, bright and blue as the sky when all three suns were directly above, piercing with the practiced eye of an advisor, of a man who had known his every mannerism for so long that he knew when the barest inkling of a bad idea was forming, knew exactly when to get all the alcohol in the area away from him, knew exactly when he would have to change clothes before coming into his presence.

“Isn’t the list already packed with Kos and I’s family, and then Vinn’s clan?” Triis asked, his voice measured and careful, his eyes flicking, watchful watchful watchful, from his face - Kal kept his expression from twitching in the slightest manner - to his shoulders, - he kept them down down down, not a shrug, not creeping toward his ears - to his hands - relaxed, relaxed, relaxed, holding a fork like it was a conductor’s baton as he waved it to summon the next piece of cake - before finally attempting to slide to his hair, which stayed dark gold, as it usually was.

“Baiiny, baby, there is always room on the list for you and your girlfriend, okay?” The prince gave his best what are you even thinking smile, the one that Triis knew well from a shared childhood of flirting with the same girls. Kal knew that the other Sakroemi thought that he hadn’t noticed how often their tastes overlapped, how much he’d watched the girls and guys that Kal had seduced like they were walking decidedly away from himself, choosing the better option, when in reality Triis had been so much better than each and every one of them, so much purer and good hearted, how they would have all stepped all over that without even knowing what they were missing out on. Del wasn’t like that. No matter how much Kal felt that ever broadening resentment for the people who took his best friends from him, even he could admit both Triis’s pirate and Kos’s pilot looked at them like they hung a sun every morning, and treated them the way they deserved to be.

All my sins, I’ve been tripping, I’ve been tripping, my god Brand new life I’ve been looking I’ve been looking lately All these nights they’ve been cooking, They’ve been cooking me raw.

Cam was… well. They weren’t exactly sure precisely what it was they were doing.

Observing, they guessed it was. Sitting on the stoop outside the coffee house slash dive bar with a cigarette between their fingers, elbow resting on the bent knee bared by torn denim. Their hair was heavy and dark, a flat inky black that came straight from a bottle, their full bottom lip marred by a thin silver ring that disappeared beneath their tongue every few moments, the tick a new one. Then again, there was a lot of new things about them.

Their wardrobe had taken a darker tint, and everyone had noticed. They were fond of layered black shirts and trench coats, dark jeans that’s rips were a bit too artful to be from wear and tear, black sneakers or boots that could make a pair of balls curl in fear at a hundred paces. Kohl around the eyes, with only the barest hint of a sinister wing on the edges. Today they had forgone the trench coat - it was one of the warmer days at the end of winter, it would have been too heavy - and replaced it with a black and gray flannel, kept open to reveal the black Angst Band tshirt. Even though the band had gained a new member, the image of Geht on the shirt hadn’t been changed.

The drummer could hear the former one man band’s voice wafting in from inside as he finished up the sound check, his voice decent despite the fact that he warbled just on the side of off key from time to time. Cam’s singing voice stayed dormant, like a bird curled away for winter within the cage of their chest. They didn’t get the urge to sing anymore, which was why it had been easier to look around at the instruments during the audition and choose the drums. They could keep a beat, and really that’s all a drum required. The dark haired nonbinary had been just as surprised as anyone else when they’d gotten the part. They’d never played a drum set in their life.  Then again, Cam had never failed an audition either.

Dark eyes tracked the people hurrying past on the street. Across from them was a convenience store, a drugstore, and a diner. They could just make out those sharing meals through the large glass windows, and leaned back slightly on their elbows to look closer. A tall blonde boy was sharing an ice cream sundae with a hijab clad girl who seemed tiny in comparison, the two of them smiling. An asian boy with long dark hair was sitting across from a tall dark woman with hair cut close to her skull, the two of them looking peaceful and content. At the convenience store they could see Geht’s on-again-off-again fling Del stocking up on twizzlers, Ziggy in her shadow speaking earnestly with lots of gestures that seemed to do nothing more than show off his rings. Watching the two of them made Cam’s stomach turn slightly, and their eyes quickly tracked to the drug store, where they could see Caez in the headache medicine isle, and across from them, Kylo and the youngest Arthuus, seemingly unable to see each other as they grabbed condoms. The girl from Cam’s geology class chose that moment to turn the corner, hand in hand with the tall, amazonian exchange student that she was dating, even as the redhead from their art class speed walked along the sidewalk across the street. That was the beauty of living in a college town, the drummer figured, leaning their head back to look at the sky. Everyone was always out and about.

The cigarette twirled between their fingers as the ex theatre kid sighed. The world was turning the colors of autumn, the air a gold, the sky a red, the sun a lazy, low hanging orange. A warm breeze jogged up the street, pausing to caress their cheeks before running on, For the first time in months, Cam missed their hair.

“Are you still out here?” Geht’s voice was rough, like he’d been halfway on the way to a laugh before he’d caught sight of them. Camren’s gaze didn’t waver from the sky, from the deep pink and stringy clouds that were turning purple and blue as the sun dipped lower and lower down the horizon. Darkness was creeping in from the east, and in its wake came the hum of streetlamps, the buzz of the diner’s purple neon sign and bright blue outlines, the grone and pop of convenience store spotlights illuminating its logo.

“Cam?” The boy- young man, really, - looked almost concerned when they finally raised their head to look at him, his dark eyes unreadable as their own, shaggy hair falling loosely around his face.

“Just enjoying the sunset.” The drummer said finally, returning their own gaze to the sky, watching the all encompassing blue of twilight start to descend. The color would last only a few minutes, but in that time it would take everything, the golden hues of the sun, the speckled light gray of the sidewalk, the darker gray of the street, the green of the grass and leaves, the brown of the bark, even the whites of Geht’s eyes, and twilight would replace it all with blue.  Blue for the trees, blue for the stones, blue for the sky, blue for the light and blue for the shadows. It filled Cam with peace, for peace, too, only lasted a few minutes.

Across the street, the blond was finishing off their sundae while the hijabi laughed, and the ding of the entrance bell signaled the asian and his date leaving. Dark eyes tracked them as they went, walking so close their shoulders brushed, the dark skinned girl pulling her hands from her pockets to intertwine their fingers. Caez and Kylo had found each other, and were bickering even as they walked off in the other direction of the couple, the boy defending himself heatedly as his companion simply smirked. The Arthuus boy was shoving his purchase into his backpack as he walked past the convenience store, only to be hailed by Del before he could get more than a few paces beyond it, the tall girl catching up to him and talking excitedly, even as the boy clutched his backpack shyly and nodded. They fell into step easily, Ziggy resigning to walking a few paces behind them as they went.

It took Geht sighing for Cam to realize he had sat beside them, his eyes tracking the three as they piled into Del’s brother’s truck. It was odd to have someone sit so close without them noticing their presence, without an urge to put a proactive five inch gap between them, just in case the boy decided to get touchy, but Geht didn’t do more than lean backward, mirroring Cam’s earlier pose as the nonbinary leaned forward.

They wanted to ask, as their gaze slid over his pensive expression, what it felt like when he saw Del with other people. If it was a turn of the stomach, like you’d just drank one shot too many, if it was more in the way of a roller coaster drop, like you’d left your stomach behind at the top, or if it was something else entirely, like you’d been full of warmth only to be kicked out into the cold, left hollow for the wind to blow through. Like he’d been looked over and found wanting.

“Geht?” The singer turned his head, and for a long moment, they simply looked at each other. He hadn’t shaved, his hair hadn’t been washed in what had probably been a week and a half, and he had perpetual bed head from the single mattress in the back of his van that he occupied. They knew for a fact that his hands would be rough, calloused and sure from playing guitar, that his arms would be strong from carrying his own equipment in and out of gigs. The thought was doing something odd to their stomach, twisting it around like they’d eaten something slightly past its expiration date.

“Yes?” His voice sounded hushed, suddenly, and when they actually looked at him, they realized that there was something… different, about him. Something slightly off about his eyes, the emotion the dark orbs were conveying foreign and soft. Dangerous in the way a venus flytrap was. Unwittingly, their gaze dropped to his lips, catching on the motion of his tongue moving across them before they were looking at his eyes again, something warm and fluttering taking over their chest as they tried to get their brain to work again.

“You guys ready?” The door opened, and Geht and Cam were suddenly very far away from each other, the lead sitting up to look up at the barista that stood in the doorway, bright orange hair cascading in an unruly waterfall from beneath his hat. Oli looked from one of them to the other, curiosity clear on his face. “The sound check is done, everything’s set.”

“Thanks Ol.” Geht said, the easy companionship on his face causing the drummer’s lips to twitch as he rose to his feet, stretching his arms over his head and ignoring that it caused his tshirt to ride up and reveal a very happy looking trail from his bellybutton and into his jeans. “We’ll be in in a sec.”

Cam tilted their head back to look at the sky one last time as the door closed behind the redhead, noting the blue of twilight had been replaced with the oncoming dark of night, the last golden hues of the sun lost behind the diner.

“Come on, number two.” Geht said, pausing in the doorway as the drummer got to their feet. “You can have another smoke break after our gig.”

A half rueful smile twisted across Cam’s lips as they nodded, their tongue playing with the thin silver slip of their lip ring as they turned to head inside.

The unlit cigarette slid back into the pack with the rest. Not a single one had been lit.

The Khayby Del AU will probably ALWAYS be the one I choose if you give me a baby Del because I am self indulgent crap. So have this AU where K Ty and Rux are Del’s parents and eventually TJ happens.

For the longest time, K was the only one who could get Del into a bath. Whether or not this meant anything was up for debate - her lovers were adamant that it clearly meant favoritism on the child’s part - but it did mean that at a certain time of the day, just past sunset, when the world was incased in soft blue twilight, K was able to put her daughter on her hip and carry her into the bathroom.

Del was forever talking, babbling little nonsense words that K was sure she could understand most days, but whenever they got close to the bath, the little girl would fall silent, wide green eyes - just like her father’s - set on the big porcelain thing like it was a monster ready to pounce. So her mother did the smart thing, she distracted her child by asking which soaps she wanted, which scent of bubble bath, what color, which shampoo, until Del had picked out all her favorites, and Khayi had placed them all in a neat little line.

Turning on the water was always tricky - this was the time when her sweet one wanted to bolt the most - but the young mother was smart. She pulled her daughter gently to the side and they held onto the tap together, counting to three and then pulling all at once, that way Del would beam at her and Khayi could say she was brave and smart and beautiful - all the truths that made the almost one year old beam with happiness.

Next they checked the temperature together, K holding her wrist beneath the stream of water and Del peeking down and poking it in short little jabs, glancing between her mother and the water multiple times before nodding. Then, in went the bubble bath, always pastel, fluffy, and wonderfully scented. This day in particular Del had chosen the purple bottle, and the scent of grapes quickly filled the bathroom as K helped the little girl out of her clothing. 

She was always extremely careful when placing her daughter into the tub - there was always much more bubbles than there was water, and Del was prone to cry if K was even remotely out of sight, so the young woman always was ready to be as fully into the tub as her daughter needed her to be. Usually that was an excuse to steal one of her lovers’ tshirts and stay in her underwear so that nothing else could get wet, and today’s was a powder blue number with nothing but the word “Tsundere” in black across the chest, courtesy of Ruxy. 

Humming a soft song, K soaped up a wash cloth and gently moved it over her baby girl’s skin, careful to keep smilng encouragingly as she went. She rinsed her off with a cup from the kitchen, pouring the water over Del’s arms and torso, and once that was done Del was rewarded with a bunch of her bath toys, which always made the little girl clap her hands together and smile widely. K let her play as she got out the no tears shampoo, massaging her daughter’s scalp and leaving her hair in a tiny mohawk for a bit so that she could claim a toy to play as well. Their yells and peels of laughter could be heard throughout the house, and that was why, by the time K was rinsing the shampoo out of Del’s hair ten minutes later, both of her boys were framed in the door way, like two sides of the same coin, soft smiles on their faces.

By the time Ty had handed her a towel, Del was yawning, and then Rux was pulling out pajamas, and the three of them were putting their daughter to bed. Ty can never help but make sure she’s tucked in securely, K makes sure her hair is swept carefully to the side, and Rux places her suffed animals within arms reach. 

For writing practice, I decided to write random snippets from the star wars ocs of myself and my friends. Enjoy :)

Caez belongs to @caezsucksdangs | Kii to @fef-x-kan | Rux, Rhell, and Vinn to @foolish-dame | Merce, Brya, and Navii to @originalcrazystrange and the rest of these trainwrecks belong to me

I. Ali

He had prayed. It had been hard these last few stay cycles but he had prayed and the void had been as distant as it looked. He had been on his knees and repeatedly bowed and bowed and bowed, but he never knew just where his pleas went, or even if they had been heard.

Ali supposed that was where Faith came in, the hope that some higher being would hear and... well, not intervene, but give him the strength, show him how he could improve and make him the being they needed him to be.

The stormtrooper gave a sigh, sitting back on his knees and tilting his head back.

Such was faith.

II. Kalduur

It was always the same routine. Wake up, drink, stumble out of bed, drink, get food pressed to him by Triis, drink, get dressed, drink, and by the time it was noon he was ready to be at a club somewhere with girls and boys all over his body, people to fawn over him, people who cared only about his family, only about the fact that he was royal, and needed nothing else.

The money helped, of course, the money always helped, the fact that he passed out credits like they were raindrops in a tropical storm kept him with a constant swirl of faces that were always smiling at him. No matter what Kalduur felt inside, the smiles always told him that he was happy. He was happy. He was happy.

Triisbaiin was the only reality check he had left, the one who would pull a drink out of his hand before it could reach his lips, the one who saw his expression shift even slightly and sent in more people, more scantily clad girls and more shirtless men in tight tight pants until he didn't know how to think anything beyond 'yes'.

As long as he didn't look at Triis's hair. As long as he didn't see the orange tint of worry.

It had to have been months. Enough storm cycles that Aaliiyahh was a disapproving memory running off through a brightly shining door and never coming back. They were always supposed to come back...

"Triiiiiiiiisbaaaaaaiiiiin." His words were a slurred mess, and his thoughts were worse, even as his weight was supported heavily by his advisor. He couldn't even feel the younger man's arm around his middle, but knew it had to be there, it always was. "Baaaaaiiiiiiiny, Baaaaaaaiiiny, Baaaaaaaaaiiiiiin~"

"what?" The snappish comment sounded... wrong. tired. worried. something his drunk mind couldn't keep up with.

It took a long moment, then his body started listening, and his heels were digging into the sand crusted dirt, pulling the advisor to a stop and making the world tilt almost dangerously.

"Creator- Kalduur what? What is it?"

Kal twisted, trying to get a look at his advisor and barely able to see his face in the slanted firelight and distant neon that was a Sakroemi night.

"W-weeee caaaan't-" He held onto Triis's shoulders, only able to comprehend his super bright eyes, the way his advisor's hair looked black. "Weeee- I gooottta- goooo."

Triis gave a heavy sigh "We are going, Kal. We're on our way home." Kal wasn't able to stop the younger Sakroemi from turning him forward and starting them moving again, even though he didn't want to.

"NO!" He felt the world tilt dangerously again when the word finally made it's way out of him, but then Triis was close again and the world was just swaying again. "NO! NO! GOING! WE goooootta-" and his arms were around Triis's neck then, and the world was swaying, but he hadn't hit the ground yet. He never did, good ol' Baiin-

"We gotta get out of here, Baiiny~"

Then the world went dark.

III. Kii-Andra

This is what it always was.

Her team was watching, she knew they were, they always were. She watched them from the corner of half lidded eyes as she tilted her head back and drained another cup. It was only juice, but that wasn't apparent from the way she staggered, the way her smile parted her lips like she had just found salvation. She could see Ali, and Gunsi holding him away from her.

She couldn't help the giggles that shook her frame at their expressions. It was just so- ludicrous. It had gotten to the point that her squadron didn't even intervene anymore. They just. Let her get to a certain point and embarrass herself, and then did damage control. 'Can't change Captain Kii' they probably said. Boy would it wind their gears if they knew she hadn't drank at a formal event in years....

"Hey!" She snapped, her voice purposely ditzy as she stumbled to a stop after bumping into someone, doing a clumsy two step that had been perfected in practice. The person turned, and she was faced with Navii. She could feel her face going from blue to purple, and the concern in Navii's eyes made her want to- to- stop this charade, to explain to her lover that it was all an act. She wasn't like this anymore! She wasn't-

"Kii-Andra." Navii's voice was so soft, she could feel it all the way to her fingers and toes, and her heart rate was fluttering in overtime-

"HEY BABY!" She wanted to cringe, she wanted to stop, but her act was perfect by now, it barely needed her at the reigns. "HOW BOUT A KISS FOR LIL OL ME???"

Navii, bless their heart, only gave them a long look before pressing their lips to her forehead.

The way Kii's knees buckled had nothing to do with the act, and suddenly she wanted to cry.

"THAT ALL? COME ON BABY! THAT'S NOT HOW YOU ACT WHEN YOU'RE IN-"

"Captain." Ali was standing beside her now, hands folded behind his back, spine straight as a light saber. "You are requested in the cockpit."

Kii knew she wasn't, that that was her team's go to excuse to get her to come with them, but the look on Navii's face, the unabashed concern, had her wanting to hide, to flee, to-

"O-OH! OKAY!" Kii jolted toward Navii, thanking the gods and anyone else listening that the large pink alien did not flinch. "SEE YA LATERS BABY!"

Then she was being pulled off by Ali, a hand placed between her shoulderblades as they walked.

She was thankful, at least, that it was the silent trooper.

She hated herself enough in that moment without a lecture.

IV. Caez

How was it, exactly, that their hair was ALWAYS FUCKING TANGLED?? No matter how often they brushed it - which probably could be a bit more often, if they were honest - it always hurt like hell when they tried to do anything with it. In fact, it was days like this where they just wanted to take a lightsaber and-

"Put that down." The Sakroemi's voice wasn't harsh, but Caez flinched anyway. They knew how Kos felt about hair - whether it was just Kos specifically or a Sakroemi thing had yet to be seen - and it was with a bit of sheepishness that the Force user flicked their lightsaber off.

Somehow, Kos always seemed to know when they were about to do something stupid. She always said it was because they couldn't help but project their thoughts when they got frustrated, but Caez had seen the Apprentice General's eyes glow, and knew what it meant.

Still, if it meant that they didn't have to deal with their hair, well. Better for them.

"I was thinking of a pixie cut." Caez joked, even as they obediently took the bag of sweets Kos was offering and started digging into it. They never knew where she got the stuff, but it was always tasty, and that was what mattered.

"You were not." Kos said, sitting on the bed and gesturing for Caez to sit on the ground between her legs. "Hand me the brush. And you better save some of those for me."

Pausing with a bunch of the sugary worms hanging out of their mouth and between their fingers, the long haired nonbinary gave a sheepish grin before sliding to a seat between the darkskinned girl's legs, handing up the brush with little remorse.

Somehow, the Sakroemi always seemed to make brushing into some kind of scalp massage, with little to no yanks that truly hurt, and eventually Caez was at the bottom of the treat bag and their hair in soft, semi obedient waves.

"You're a hair whisperer." The force sensitive said, eyes wide as they looked at themselves in the mirror. They looked like.... some sort of mythical creature, with hair soft enough that no one would even notice it until it was strangling them to death...

"I have to be." was the only response, but then there was crinkling, and Caez froze, glancing to see the empty sweets bag crumpling in Kos's hand.

"Uh-"

"Don't worry about it." Thankfully, the Sakroemi seemed only amused. "I keep a bag of these for myself in my room. I tell you to save some for me so you don't choke trying to eat them all at once." Caez only had a moment to give a sheepish smile before Kos was continuing " Come on. It's almost time for dinner. You need actual food."

They couldn't help but give a grin, following the Apprentice General out of the room as she tossed the bag in the garbage chute.

"....and flick your hair at Kylo for me when we get there. I like the way his force color changes when you do it."

Caez felt their face get warm at the mention of Kylo, but they resolved to do it anyway.

Because Kos wanted them to, of course. N-Not because they liked when Kylo reacted that way as well...

V. Lanny

"But mama knows I need it!" The small girl's dark hair was pulled up in one big poof at the top of her head, as she insisted, so that she looked more like her mama, even though her hair stayed dark instead of turning any which color. She was tugging on her father's hand now, her small hands dwarfed by his singular big on, the blond man letting himself be tugged along by his daughter with a fond but wary smile.

"Your mama knows you just got a toolkit for your birthday not even a month ago, Lanny." Her father's voice was gentle, but firm. It was his Bargaining Voice, the one that was supposed to get her to agree, but just made her want to argue right back until he saw what she was talking about.

"But daddy that tool kit was for a speeder! I'd be out of bolts before I even got through the engine!" The eight year old had just grown to the height of the tables, and had to put both hands on the surface and stand on her tiptoes to even see what was on the edge. The alien vendor gave her a look, but then her father's hands were on her sides, and she was soaring upward, placed lightly on his shoulders where she could see the entire market, almost.

"The engine of what, pray tell?" Vinn toned, beginning to walk more toward their destination - her mother had made them promise to go clothes shopping, since most of Lanny's clothes had become an inch too short in the arms and legs - the young girl's dark eyes lingering on the mechanic's section of the bazaar even as it got further and further with each step.

"My ship, daddy! I can't be getting around the galaxy in someone else's pile of junk! I gotta make my own!"

Her father came to a stop, his shoulders trembling slightly as one of his hands came away  from her ankles to wipe at his face.

"Daddy? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No- No baby." Then they were turning back, and Lanny couldn't help but clap happily before holding onto her father's head, careful not to pull any of his hair. "You're just my daughter, is all."

"I know'd that already, daddy!" Lanny laughed. Leaning down to try and see her dad's face. "I thought you know'd that too!"

Vinn's laughter could be heard even from stalls away, and Lanny got her tool kit - on the condition that she didn't let her mother see it for at least a month.

VI. Merce

He didn't mean to do it, not truly.

Did anyone ever mean to do it, though? How could he help it, with the way Ty was? The way he was so sure of himself when it came to others, the way he was selfless and made sure that everyone was always taken care of, even when he didn't remember to take care of himself...

How could anyone resist that? A truly selfless man, a man who would run into blaster fire for anyone even those he cared nothing about! A man who loved with his eyes and hands, a man who's mouth felt like-

"Merce?" The captain's bright green eyes were on him, and the dancer could feel himself going red. "Have you been paying any sort of attention?"

Swallowing thickly, Merce glanced around, trying to regain his bearings. They were at the table in the dining quarters, Cisco's arms were still sudsy from dishes, Del had even paused in her hunt for raisins in Cisco's food to look from Ty to him, and Kere was sitting at the table too, picking at her food. There was a map of a compound on the table, and Merce had to think that it was the one they'd been planning for but... it didn't look familiar.

"Of course he wasn't." Del toned, going back to examining the food. "He never is."

Merce's argument to how unfair that comment was cut off by Cisco's half chuckle and Ty's blinding smile.

"Well, that's alright. I shouldn't be trying to plan before dinner anyway." The captain charmed, rolling the map up and stowing it away.

"Or during it." Cisco grumbled with a small smile, of which the captain returned, a bit sheepishly. Merce felt his face get even redder as he looked down at his untouched plate, the sound of Ty's laughter and voice reverberating in his ears louder than the rest, reminding him of his plight.

He hadn't meant to fall in love.

VII. Brya

There was something poetic about the way death followed wherever they went, like a loyal dog that just wanted it's treat.

Brya wasn’t an assassin, because that would exclude many of the other things they did for money. They were a bounty hunter, and sometimes that meant bringing the bounties back alive, for their customers to do what they wanted with them.

Still, there was something about the way he could watch the light leave their eyes that was... powerful. The sort of powerful that made him understand the draw of the darkside.

Giving a small sigh as they held their recent contract close, their arms wrapped tightly around his throat, Brya looked up at the stars.

You had to appreciate the little things, sometimes, he mused as the contract went limp, it was the little things that made life worth living.

VIII. Cisco

Cisco had known Ty almost as long as the Old Captain had. He had watched the man - overgrown boy, really - grow from a glorified sex toy to what he must of been before, a soldier. A man who had been used to fighting for what he wanted, for what he believed in. He was a charmer, but Cisco kept looking long after others had turned away. The cook saw his scars, the way his shoulders sagged when he thought he was alone, the way that without something to do his eyes went unfocused and distant.

"Come on, Newbie." Cisco wasted no time in throwing an arm over the to-be-captain's shoulder, steering him toward the kitchen. "I need a taste tester, and one who isn't conditioned to always say yes to me."

The man blinked at him, then down at the hot plate of food placed before him. After a moment, he picked up his fork and placed a forkful in his mouth. The toydarian paused, his eyes widening comically before he was shoving more and more into his mouth.

"mmm~ my god-" Ty's eyes were bright and sparkling, even as he shoveled more and more as Ciscos' food down his gullet. "You're- mmm- the greatest cook- holy shitballs..."

Cisco gave a modest smile as the other man continued praising him, feeling a pleased blush start to spread across his cheeks as he turned away and began to spoon more into a bowl for himself.

"You like it?"

"I WOULD LIKE IT IF YOU COOKED EVERYTHING FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE!!"

Cisco chuckled "okay. I can do that."

IX. Rux

K was being odd. Rux could sense it. It was something in the way she was standing, something in the way she wouldn't directly look at him that had him on edge. It made him feel like he'd done something wrong. Like he'd somehow fucked up just like he thought he'd do inevitably.

It lasted all through training. His superior officer didn't do more than glance at him and then look away, and despite her lack of reaction most time, he could read her body like it was his first language. Her lips were tight around the edges, and her spine was straighter than usual, and her hands were curled into delicate fists.

He tried fighting harder in training, refusing to stand down against anyone, besting three others in sparring matches, then doing it again with the others vs him all at once, but each time he looked up at her, she looked more displeased than before.

And yet not a single comment left her lips. Like he should know how he was disappointing her.

It wasn't until training was over, and he was following her to the mess hall, that he was able to ask. His arm ached, the heavy durasteel prosthetic weighing much more after a long day of training.

"Khayi." his voice was hesitant, moreso when she turned on him, her reaction quick as a snake. Her eyes were dark like rainforest earth and he was always shaken by the amount of emotion he could find there. He was half convinced it was why she wore her helmet so often, because no matter how well she could school her expression her eyes would always give her away.

"Are you o-" Then he was being pulled after her, yanked by his good hand and away from the others until they came to a stop in a small alcove, hidden by only a short outcropping of wall that a single step to the left - or someone coming from the opposite direction - would leave exposed.

"Your sparring today was...." Her eyes were luminous, and the thoughts he could read from them had heat spreading across his face. "Passable." She was close enough that their armor was resting against each other, that he could feel her breath against his lips.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Yeah." He couldn't feel her fingers against his armor, but he could imagine them, and that was, in a way, worse. "I, of course, could have done better,  but there is always room for improvement."

He snorted and rolled his eyes, but his gaze returned to her lips fast enough. She was only a few inches shorter than him. Surely he could just...

The dull clink of armor hitting durasteel filled the space as she shoved him back, pinning him against the wall with her body. His face was red in earnest now, his hands resting lightly on her hips.

"...but, a vast improvement, I suppose." She was speaking against his throat now, her lips brushing his skin with every word. "Almost impressive."

He was doing his best to keep his eyes from fluttering, not even realizing she was unfastening his armors until he felt her hands against his stomach, tracing up and up, and then downward in lazy, caressing swirls.

"I do my best to impress you, Khayi."

He felt rather than heard her chuff of laughter, and the way her fingers were working on the crotch plate of his armor was sending his blood on a direct path south. Her tongue was on his throat, and he was finding it rather hard to even remember what they'd been talking about.

His crotch plate had just fallen free when the sound of approaching boot steps could be heard, and then Khayi's body was away from him, her helmet back on as she side stepped out of the alcove, her tone cool and collected as she greeted General Hux and told him of a report she had to deliver to him.

As their footsteps receded, Rux breathed a sigh, taking stock of himself. He still remembered the way her eyes had lingered on him, still armor clad, thighs spread obediently, sinking against the wall and biting his bottom lip to ensure he stayed quiet...

He huffed as he began reassembling his armor, his face still a light pink.

Next time, he vowed, he'd ensure she pulled him into an actual room.

X. Cam

The day they left Thyferra, it rained.

Cam had never really been one to put much on the weather, and the humid rainforest covered planet had never been one to put much on it either. It was always much of the same, and if it rained, it was a drizzle.

But the Force sensitive couldn’t help but feel something different in the air, and maybe it was just the freedom, and inevitably it was just their brain being stupid, but... perhaps Thyferra was crying because… well, because Rhell was crying.

Stupid.

A drizzle didn’t equate to emotion, especially not on the humid wasteplant that was Thyferra. Cam would feel much better when the planet was able to be viewed completely through transparasteel.

They were right about that as well. The runaway felt much better when the blue planet was the size of a grape.

The nearest space station wasn’t that far, and her helpful shipmates did nothing more than gape at the muddy boot prints left in their cargo hold. It was easy as pie to tie their hair back and examine the wears of others, using Marvelle's swiped credits for a few things - a new outfit, a new blaster, a hood to keep their face from prying eyes, and kept only her weapon's belt, carved with Rhell and their initials side by side.

The next ship they boarded was a tradeship that promised to give them honest work, should they keep their fingers away from the product and work diligently, which Cam could do. It wasn't until they were alone, in the room they shared with another trader, watching the stars speed by, that they let themselves breathe a sigh of relief.

They were free.

XI. Triis

In general, Triis didn't like it here.

That was the truth of the matter. He didn't like the way the hallways always seemed drafty, and that the food was always bland, and that the stormtrooper helmets looked like dissastified animal heads. He didn't like any of it, but it wasn't his decision to be here.

Triisbaiin was used to being dissatisfied. Kalduur had started out as a royal that no one would envy him for. He didn't listen, he partied often and drank more, and he never seemed to care that his duty as a male royal was simply thus - to have fun and not get in the way of royals who wanted to change things. But ever since Kalduur had woken up from that night Triis had maybe-almost-dropped him on his head, he had been on a mission, and that mission had been to be of use.

He just wished his asshole of a best friend could have found a use a bit closer to home.

Now, standing in a room with little to no open space, with only the view of the stars and so much silence beyond the hum of the ship, Triis couldn't help but be homesick. He missed the way Sakroem was never quiet, the way that even at night you could hear the sea in the distance, feel it in the air, smell it on the wind... instead all he smelled was disinfectant and whatever the hell the soap the issued was here.

But Kalduur, well, Kalduur was a force to be reckoned with now. He kept his jokester demeanor, but Triis could tell he was... happier. His eyes shined with something more now, something that showed when he answered something in a meeting, or caught something he wasn't supposed to in a conversation.

"We're here for the good of Sakroem!" the royal had said, clapping him on the back as they made their way to their rooms, just across the hall from each other. "We're finally of use!"

Triis had given a smile, the blue clay in his hair keeping his nagging doubt from surfacing.

Because they were here for the good of Sakroem.

Rux and Del belong to @foolish-dame

Ty thought that Delmire might be a teeny bit too small for this - she was barely five months, just old enough to start teething - but he and Rux had come to the decision that as a family, they needed to get out of the house. 

At first, Khayi’s adversion to taking Del outside had made sense. She was afraid that it was too chilly, and when they needed to go somewhere, she persuaded someone to stay behind with the child. She didn’t want Del to get sick. She was afraid that if they went someone would see Del and want to see her, and then sneeze.

So they accommodated. Both he and Rux didn’t mind staying home with their baby girl, laying with her and playing with her tiny hands and feet, raspberrying her tummy and grinning when she giggled.

It was Rux that started noticing, in reality. It was the little things. K had always been a bit contained, but now even her eyes showed no change. She would curl up between the two and close her eyes, but when they woke up she was elsewhere, in the kitchen, in the living room, curled up around a book like she had finally just collapsed. She would freeze when Delmire cried out, looking at a loss, until Ty or Rux swooped in and did something about it. She didn’t chime into their conversations like she did before, and when he suggested that it was just left over horomones, Rux met him with a half frown and a head shake.

In the end it was always her eyes. The final straw was realizing that Khayi looked at Del like she was Rux and Ty’s, not her own baby.

So here they were, the four of them trudging through the wet grass on the edge of the pond in florescent orange knit hats that K had done during pregnancy when there was nothing else, Ty keeping up a cheery commentary as Rux gave half responses, his brows drawn together and his eyes on Khayi. Delmire was bundled up tight, by K’s demand, in a cute puffy jacket on Ty’s hip, her hearing aids tucked under her hat to keep her ears warm. Her eyes, brighter and brighter each day, were taking in everything, and for every word he said she matched him with an excited babble. It warmed his heart to see her so excited, even with his lovers otherwise distracted.

“Ruxy~” he sang, turning to his partner and giving a wide smile. “The bread please.” Tearing his eyes from where Khayi had gone to stand at the edge of the water, his dark haired companion gave him a worried look before shrugging his backpack off and pulling a folded paper bag out. The bread inside was nothing special - a few leftover kaiser rolls from when Cisco had visited to cook them a meal, it had been the first time they had seen Khayi’s almost half smile in a long while - but the ducks flocked to them just the same.

“QUA QUA!” Delmire exploded, making grabby hands at the ducklings as Ty threw the first bit of bread into the pond, the ducks mimicking Del’s baby noises in their own quacks as they dunked for bread crumbs. It took Ty elbowing Rux for the man to tear his eyes from where Khayi had stooped down, wrapping her arms around her knees and examining a line of ducklings following their mother duck in a quasi line. After a five second long narrow eyed debate, the raven haired man shoved his hand in the bag and pulled out a fist full of bread, all but throwing the bag into Ty’s free hand.

“Look miremire.” Ty said softly, making his way to a nearby bench as his eyes strayed to where his lovers were, Rux finally reaching Khayi. “Aren’t they pretty duckies?”

Delmire made affirmative sounding noises as Ty sat, placing the bag between his legs so he could offer his now standing - clutching his shirt for deer life - child breadcrumbs from his palm as his gaze strayed back to where Rux’s voice was rising.

“I know you’re strong enough to get through it! but I’m worried, Khayi! I just-”

“I’m fine!” 

It happened all at once. Khayi stood to her full height, and Rux, where he’d maneuvered in front of her to keep her from keeping her face from him, rose with her, instinctively stepping backward. Only... there wasn’t any ground for him to step into, and before they knew it, ducks were quacking frantically, and Rux was on his butt and half submerged in water.

Ty had rushed over, feeling frantic, but then the look on Rux’s face had him pausing. The three of them stopped, still as statues, until suddenly the child on Ty’s hip began giggling. 

“Chi chi baba!” she cried, clapping her tiny hands together as she called for bathtime. “Baba! Baba!” 

There was another pause, and then suddenly, Khayi was laughing. It was sudden, and it sounded rough, like an instrument that was slightly out of tune from disuse, but to Ty it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Rux was already on his feet, splashing back to the edge, which only seemed to make their girlfriend laugh harder, even as she wiped away tears. 

Rux didn’t hesitate before sweeping her into a hug, laughter still falling like tears from the young mother as her arms wrapped around her boyfriend just as tightly, the giggles only subsiding when his lips were against hers.

It was sweet and brief, and then Ty’s free arm was around the two of them, and Del was grasping at her parents, smiling a grin that was just like her mother’s. 

“I’ll get help.” Khayi finally said, kissing her daughter on the nose. “I’ll get better.”

“We’ll get better.” Ty corrected, stealing a quick kiss. “All of us, Khayi.”

Rux nodded, giving a small smile and slipping his hand into hers. “All of us.” he repeated.