#I should start proof reading goddamnit

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

For every action, a reaction - Chapter 1 - Inertia

Pairing: Raven Scientist (Victoria Van Gale/The Raven Leader)

Summary: Taking a step back from our poetry nerds, this instalment focuses on academic research projects, less than legal shenanigans, and most importantly, two coworkers who are smart enough to be geniuses in their respective areas but apparently not enough to confess.

Over the span of two decades.

Seriously.

Somebody has to do something. Before all their students lose their minds.

Updates weekly.

Notes: Hey, you guys! Welcome to another part in the Carpe Diem series. This one diverges a bit from the previous content (as you may have guessed from the lack of latin motto title), but it was still planned alongside the other fics in the verse and was intended to be part of the story all along. I'd strongly reccomend reading the previous instalments in the verse before getting to this, however, in case sketchbook is not your jam, I guess I should just say that this is an University AU and release you into the wild. Hope you have fun, because I sure had a blast writing it!

You hear those cries for help? Yeah, I currently have @waddles-ex-machina locked in my basement. Only gonna let her out if I hear you all guys saying 'thank you, waddles'. Takes a real trooper to proof read this thing, let me tell you. Brb gotta go check if she's doing well inside the lil cage (which is to say, once more, thank you so much, waddles. you're a true angel <3)

Read it on ao3: (Carpe Diem verse) (This chapter)

When Victoria first came to the University of Trolberg, she was full of energy and eager to prove herself. The university had accepted her for their doctorate program, during which she’d also be an assistant professor to the Weather Sciences undergrads, and she couldn’t wait to spread the knowledge she’d acquired (and to get even more in the process).

The project she was working on wasn't exactly revolutionary; she’d get there, eventually, there was still time. But it was something that made her heart beat faster, so she was sure she’d end up doing a better job than all those stuffy professors who walked around like the world had done them a disservice by existing. Victoria was excited by the knowledge and the possibilities, and she was sure that that was the right path.

Before the school year even began, she found herself treading through the campus grounds, holding in her hands a device she’d helped build. Her current research was on the effect aerosols had on the weather, so she’d decided that measuring the concentrations of those particles in the area she’d be studying for the next couple of years would be helpful.

One thing she hadn’t taken into consideration, however, was the fact that for her being focused meant losing any notion of time. And space. And reality. And, well, anything that would be useful to her in an unfamiliar, open field. But that was just life, wasn’t it?

She’d been in the middle of gently hitting her device, since its panel had started showing readings that were most certainly not true, when an all too familiar rumble filled the air. Victoria should have realised this was coming, it was her job, goddamnit, but she’d been too immersed in walking around with her measuring machine and writing its readings down to notice the things that really mattered: the static in the atmosphere, the humidity, the clouds closing in and blocking the sunlight.

The price for her misstep came in the form of heavy drops of cold water. Knowing that rain was only the first step, and that soon lightning would likely follow, Victoria began running away as fast as she could. At some point during her walking, she’d entered a forest that she assumed was where the Biology people did their field work, and among the trees she had remained. If she wanted to survive much longer, though, she would have to change that immediately.

Victoria barely felt the weight of her backpack as she jumped over fallen tree branches and dodged puddles of mud. What was truly bothering her were her clothes; the feeling of wet clothes sticking to her skin drove her insane, making her wonder how wise it was to stop running and take them all off. In the end she decided that risking death by lightning or by pneumonia wasn’t worth it, but spent her entire marathon cursing the water that dripped from her clothes and down her legs, soaking her socks inside her galoches. As soon as she was safe, she promised herself she’d fling them far, far away.

Strands of black hair stuck to her forehead, but she didn’t have the time to stop and tie them back, even if they drove her as insane as her clothes. She needed to get out of there, if lightning began and hit one of the trees near her, she was a dead woman.

Or at least a really angry and hurt one.

When finally the limit of the forest came into sight, Victoria almost laughed in victory; she only didn’t do so because she realised that what came next was an open field, and if any rays decided to fall in the general vicinity, she’d certainly be taken for target. There really was no way to win.

Breathing heavily, she stopped running when she reached the border of the forest. Water and wind clouded her vision and made her eyes sting, and with the part of her brain that hadn’t been overcome by adrenaline and sent into survival mode she thought that it would have been much smarter of her to have turned back the way she came when the rain started, instead of running further into the unknown. But there was no turning back now.

There was a scream in the distance.

With the gale ricocheting all around her, it was a wonder she even heard it, and a miracle she didn’t assume that it was coming from inside her own mind. But another second of attention made her recognize the scream for what it was.

An offer of help.

“Over here!” The voice shouted. “A few more metres! There’s shelter!”

Fuck it. Victoria thought. I’m gonna die anyway, it might as well be in the hands of a stranger in the woods. I hope they make a true crime podcast about me.

So she ran. And when she was close enough that the curtain of falling water didn’t stop her from seeing it, a small cottage showed itself to her with all the grandiosity of an oasis in the desert.

Almost as soon as she was on the porch, a towel was put over her shoulders. She was told to take off her boots and go inside the house, where the person who had shouted after her, a woman with a kind smile and short brown hair made her sit in front of the fire to warm herself. 

She was safe. That same woman would later on give her a warm change of clothes and a mug of tea, and tell her she’d only been able to see her because of the light coming from her device, which had not resisted the run through the open field. That would lead them to talk about Victoria’s project, which would in return spark a conversation about the woman’s job, and lead them to the realisation that they worked for the same university now, and would be kind of like coworkers once classes began.

And that was the first time Victoria met Birgitta Bloom.

………

The first time the Earth Sciences department organised a joint lecture and invited both of them to be in it, it had seemed like a happy coincidence. It had still been early on in the semester, but the head of the department had found it best to offer that presentation as soon as possible; conclusions about climate change became more worrying by the second, after all. At that point, they had already become friendly acquaintances, waving and smiling at each other whenever they crossed paths in a corridor and following each other on facebook, however little they both used it.

It was by doing so, in fact, that Victoria had found out that the cottage she’d met Birgitta in was her own, and part of the land she and a couple of other sponsors had bought in order to keep it for conservation. It was a budding project, but a noble one in Victoria’s opinion, and the only thing that surprised her about it was that apparently during her foray she’d left the campus’ grounds without even noticing. She only hoped there hadn’t been any fences she’d jumped over, because otherwise she’d really need to worry about her lack of attention to her surroundings.

Excited about having been invited to take part in something like that, Victoria had found Birgitta in her office and invited her over for coffee at her apartment, so that they could plan their lesson properly.

That was a normal thing that coworkers did on a strictly professional scope, right?

Not having had a car, or any loved ones living in Trolberg when she moved there for her doctorate, Victoria hadn’t seen the point in renting a place in town. Instead, she lived in an apartment complex that was just outside of campus, like most students who were there to continue their education after their masters degree.

They took the ten minute walk there together, shooting ideas for the lecture at each other. She kept worrying she’d run out of things to say, and then the silence between them would be awkward, but it hadn’t been the case. It seemed like the more they talked, the more they had to discuss with each other.

Her apartment wasn’t at all impressive, especially not now that she hadn’t even bothered to finish taking all of her possessions out of their cardboard boxes and into their new designated places. Victoria had figured she’d spend most of her time in the campus, so she had only rented a one bedroom with a living room and a small kitchen. Knowing her working habits, she might as well have rented a bedroom on its own, but Helper needed a bit more space to lounge around. 

In the end, it was him who first caught Birgitta’s attention when they arrived. They had been talking about how it would be good to open their lecture giving the audience an update on recent studies and findings and then move on to a discussion, when Victoria opened the front door and they were put face to face with a scruffy orange cat, licking its own side.

“Oh, how adorable!” Birgitta squealed at the first sight of it, making him startle and look up at her. “Is it yours?”

Victoria closed the door behind them and blinked as her coworker crouched down to let her cat sniff her hand. 

“Well, it is my house. Would be a little awkward if he wasn’t, really.”

“What’s his name?” The cat already was pressing his head against her hand, earning a gentle caress to his pale fur. Old age was beginning to come for the poor dear. 

“Helper.” She stood by her side in the middle of her living room, watching as her cat, who barely ever let anyone other than her come close, purred in delight with Birgitta’s attention.

“Oh, and does he help you with anything?”

“He knocks my stuff over, so there’s that.”

Birgitta’s chuckle was melodic and gentle, which was fortunate. If her laughter was the loud type that sounded like something breaking, Victoria would probably still try to get it out of her, but she wouldn’t enjoy her success as much.

This sound, however? She could hear that for the rest of her life with no complaints. And little did she know at that time, but that was precisely what she would have to do.

…......

Fifteen years later

“You’re distracted today, professor.” The girl said, sipping at her coffee while looking at her with curious eyes. “More than usual, at least. Did anything happen?”

With a weary sigh, Victoria let her spine slide down the back of the bench they were sitting at, making her posture look more like a shrimp’s than that person’s. It was a cold winter morning; Christmas break was only a couple of weeks away, and Victoria was eagerly looking forward to it. Not for Christmas in itself, but to get an escape from the nightmare circus that was her life in that University. She hugged her knee length white coat, which looked almost like a cold weather version of the lab coat she was always in, tighter around herself as if that could protect her from that student’s penetrating stare.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. I’m fine.”

The lift of her brows was enough to tell Victoria that she didn’t believe her for a moment.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me.” She said, toying with a ring on her finger with one hand and holding her paper cup with the other, fingers stiff due to the cold. “But you’ve seen me vulnerable and you’ve helped. I just want you to know you can trust me to do the same.”

It was hard to not trust her, given all the maturity and strength she’d shown since they met, but surely there were boundaries that had to be respected in a relationship between professor and alumni. It had been a weird day, that. She’d been in the library, looking for a book one of her students had asked her about, and heard some sniffing from a nearby shelf. Somehow, she’d ended up at the cafeteria, trying her best to console someone who was barely more than a teenager, and definitely not Victoria’s problem.

And yet, here they were. They had each other’s phone numbers and now frequently met for coffee around campus. After all, what was Victoria losing with that? Even after all those years at the university, she hadn’t made any true friends, and that student seemed like the sort of person who also didn’t have the easiest of rides connecting to people. 

Especially not now that her reputation had been trashed, she supposed.

In the end, she decided that no matter how unprofessional it was, it would do no harm, so why keep avoiding it? She’d already found herself in a spot where she was in love with the same woman for over a decade and the only person she felt comfortable enough to open her heart to was a disgraced English and History student, so it wasn’t like things could possibly get worse at that point. Or at least, she preferred to believe they couldn’t.

“Ugh. You win.” She groaned, as if she hadn’t been dying to talk the subject over with someone. “The person I like is single again. She broke up with her boyfriend - they were only together for a couple of months, really - and before I came to meet you she found me and gave me the news. She was smiling. What the hell does it mean when someone tells you they’re single while smiling?”

Kaisa gave her a level look after checking that there was no coffee left in her cup. “Listen, I am far from being an expert. But my mother made me sit through enough romcoms that I think it’s safe to say she wants you to ask her out.”

“It’s not like that between us.” Victoria rolled her eyes. “It can’t be like that. We basically work together, imagine the mess if we got together and the even bigger mess if we fell apart!”

“Don’t you think that that’s a problem for… future Victoria?” Kaisa answered, hoping that it was the right thing to say. In all honesty, she could see the merit in that logic of Victoria’s. Not risking it was definitely safer, and you sure as hell wouldn’t catch her doing something silly like ‘confessing feelings’ anywhere in the near future. But the girl found that she was much better at helping people when she gave the advice she imagined Tildy would give, instead of her own.

“Well, yeah, but future Victoria would be pissed if I let her take the fall. Besides, I don’t even know if she likes women!”

“Show me a picture.”

Victoria blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“Yeah, show me a picture. I want to know what she looks like.”

Sure, why not, Victoria thought even as she picked up her cellphone in her pocket. It’s not like we’re both professors at the institution where she studies. How badly could this end?

After a brief moment of fumbling with her gloves before she managed to unlock her phone, she opened Birgitta's profile on Instagram, and handed it into Kaisa’s waiting hands.

“I hate this website.” Victoria grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “No idea how to use it.”

Without looking up, Kaisa answered. “And yet, you have an account.”

“Yes, well-” She failed to keep herself in check and began bouncing a leg. “It’s the one she’s the most active in currently.”

“Aw, that is cute.” Still scrolling through the profile, Kaisa had been too immersed in looking at the pictures to remember to put any intonation in her sentence, but Victoria appreciated the sentiment even if it was delivered in a monotone. “I’ll give it to you, I hate it as well. Can’t see the point in it.”

“Even for stalking crushes?” Victoria snorted.

“Oh, I don’t think I have to worry about there being any cottagecore lesbians in my future.”

“What the-” She stopped bouncing her leg as she turned to the girl, who was still scrolling. “What the fuck is a cottagecore?”

“It’s this.” Kaisa looked up and met her eyes for long enough to assure herself that the professor could see her pointing at the screen. “This is a cottagecore. She’s gay, by the way.”

Victoria opened her mouth. No sound came out, but a puff of smoke came from it. From the moment she’d met Kaisa, the girl had acted a lot more insecure than what the professor would consider healthy. And yet, here she was, sounding like a judge issuing a verdict.

“But she had a boyfriend.”

“I’m using ‘gay’ as an umbrella term” Kaisa rolled her eyes, like she was the professor talking to an uneducated interlocutor. “And she has a pixie cut. There’s just no other explanation.”

With her elbows resting against her knees and rubbing her temples, the scientist sighed. “Listen, I know that this may be the case for your generation, and if it is, all the power to you guys, but there are some truly nasty people my age with pixie cuts, you know?”

“Well, yeah, but she leads a conservation land trust, so she’s clearly not a Karen. Gay is the only other option.”

Victoria opted against asking who Karen was and why she was bad, and turned to look at Kaisa again. The girl was looking at her with one corner of her mouth lifted up. Either it was an attempt at a compassionate smile, or the girl was restraining herself from laughing at her. Victoria decided that both were equally probable as she was handed her cell phone again.

“Don’t stress about it. I’m sure everything will work out in its due time.”

“You sound like one of those generic gift cards.”

“Isn’t that how comforting people works?”

It was, Victoria supposed. But next time she’d probably rather Kaisa be direct with her and just tell her what she was thinking. There were enough cheesy gift cards in the world, Kaisa didn’t need to pose as one of them. Something told Van Gale that the girl probably felt the same.

“Anyway. Thank you for listening, even if this was stupid. See, this is why I love your generation. I don’t even have to worry about you being a bigot before coming out.”

The look Kaisa gave her made her wonder if she had inadvertently committed a hate crime, or if she had been wrong and Kaisa had been just waiting for the conversation to end to commit a hate crime herself.

“Holy shit.” The student whispered, bringing her hands to her mouth as her eyebrows drew closer. “Van Gale, I know the first thing we need to fix in your life.”

“And that is…?”

“Your abysmal fucking gaydar.”

………

One year later

Edmund felt lost in his life. After having graduated in Biology, there seemed to be so many possible roads ahead of him that there might as well be none. Did he have the patience to go into teaching? The focus to go into research? The drive to go into field work? If anyone knew, it certainly wasn’t him. So he did what anyone whose only certainty was not wanting to move back in with their parents did.

He decided to get another level of education.

I’m his defence, it wasn’t just because he was unsure of what to do next. He had an actual passion for Conservation Ecology, and since one of his favourite professors had noticed it and offered to advise him for his thesis and somehow get him a scholarship if he did a Masters, he really didn’t see a reason not to.

Besides, someone needed to stay in the house to look after his little cousin.

Professor Bloom was, in his opinion, a genius. And a very productive one, at that. You could shoot her whatever question you wanted to about local wildlife and she’d answer without a second’s wait, on top of putting her money where her mouth was and guiding several projects, all of which Edmund had read all about while deciding if getting this degree was a good idea. 

His heart almost jumped to his throat when the door to her office opened and the woman herself found him standing in the corridor. He’d had contact with her while graduating, of course; if she hadn’t noticed his interest, he never would have bagged the offer she gave him. But it was one thing to be in projects she led in the university, and another entirely to have private tutorings on the subject she mastered.

He was coming to realise he was maybe a bit of a fanboy.

With a warm smile, professor Bloom opened the door wider and invited him in. There was a desk at the centre of the office, and behind it a glass window. By the desk, there were two chairs that had been angled somewhere between facing each other and facing the table. 

“I just want to make it crystal clear I won’t be putting any pressure on you.” The woman began as she took a seat in one of them, leaving him no choice but to do the same. She eyed him with kindness and curiosity, making him feel a little like he was one of the critters she studied. Considering she was one of the best in her field, that probably meant something good for him. “Now, I imagine you have already given some thought about what your thesis will be, or have some options to explore. May we discuss them?”

He had, thank God, been able to bring some material for discussion, and he said as much as he opened his backpack to grab his laptop. It had been hard to settle down on one topic to concentrate his studies on during his Masters, so he had found it best to bring all of his ideas to his first tutoring, so that professor Bloom could tell him which would be the most useful ones. And which ones the university would be able to provide for, as well.

Just as he was opening his word document, however, there was a knock on the door, and the person on the other side didn’t bother waiting for a ‘come in’ to show herself.

“Birgitta, I got it!” Exclaimed a tall, slim woman as she opened the door. Professor Bloom, who had been patiently waiting for Edmund to present her his ideas, immediately turned her attention to the newcomer. “The project got approved- oh, sorry, I didn’t realise this wasn’t a good time.”

He managed to not allow himself to feel guilty for being in a professor’s office for an appointment at the time of the day he had specifically been invited to be there, but it wasn’t by a lot. The woman looked so crestfallen to notice him there that Edmund felt like he had done something wrong.

“Oh, that is wonderful!” Professor Bloom got up and walked closer to the woman holding out both hands to gently hold her arms. “Don’t worry, that’s just one of my students. I’m going to help him right now but maybe later we can meet up. I’d love to hear more.”

“Oh, there’s nothing much to say, really.” There was now an embarrassed blush tinting her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “I just received the news that they want me to carry on with the research and wanted to share it with you. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It’s amazing. But I won’t push you about it. Send me a text if you want to share something else, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of them looked like they had deflated considerably as the door was closed and the professor returned to her former seat next to him. Had that been his presence’s fault? It had seemed like it but at the same time, Edmund was reasonably sure that they had managed to downscale their conversation themselves.

“Sorry, mr. Pearson.” Professor Bloom said, eyes still glued to the door. “That was professor Van Gale. I imagine you’ll have some contact with her now that you’re in Conservation. Where were we?”

Even as they went back to the matter at hand, there was still a wistful haze in Birgitta’s eyes, one that Edmund recognized for what it was.

Oh no.

It was going to be a long couple of years.

.........

Two years later

If a body is at rest or moving at a constant speed in a straight line, it will remain at rest or keep moving in a straight line at constant speed unless it is acted upon by a force. Edmund knew so, because his need for money to sustain himself in college had driven him to work in a professor’s project that involved a lot more physics than he would ever have liked to work with. Technically, he was working in the environmental and zoological parts of Ahlberg’s project, but the admission exam had required him to study some of the cornerstones for the engineering that was also involved in it.

The point was, he now had all those laws and formulas lodged in some corner of his mind, even if they barely had a chance to get out.

This was one of those chances.

It was a climate change panel, because of course it was. Every year they had at least one of those in the university, with attendance being mandatory for some courses and open to all. The annoying thing was - besides the nerve-wrecking statistics and new climate studies, that is - that every time, the same two professors were called. Sometimes there were other guests called to the round table to bring more sides to the discussion, but no matter what, professor Bloom and professor Van Gale were always there. And from older students, he had come to learn that it had been like this for as long as anyone could remember.

And they were always wrecks.

A big part of Edmund thought that the fact that they had sustained feelings for each other for so long was truly adorable. Anyone who had the slightest contact with either would be able to see how much they cared for each other. But there was a time and a place for longing glances and blushing when caught looking at your crush, and a lecture hall filled with university students, with a power point presentation on the climate crisis behind yourself was not it.

When the discussion ended and they were all free to go, Edmund tried to look around for Gerda, who he had come into the lecture with, only to find her staring fixedly at the professors. They were struggling to walk past the door frame, since they seemed to be stuck in an endless loop of ‘after you’. Not bearing to witness that for too long, they both gave each other a look that clearly asked ‘are you also seeing this shit?’, even though they both had lessons with professor Bloom and had, in fact, seen this sort of shit more times than they could count.

When they began their Masters, they used to keep the last page of their notebook to count how many times she’d bring up professor Van Gale, or how many times they’d behold any suspiciously yearning action from her. It used to be fun.

It wasn’t funny anymore.

With a sigh, Edmund put his backpack on his shoulders again, and made way for the exit with his friend in tow.

They would keep at that for eternity, if they were allowed to. Someone would have to be the external force.

[thirsty-x1]

bless you for writing 'hug me' 🥺😭💗 its so good and it was super duper softttt

JSJSJDKJS I'm glad you enjoyed it!!! You can also check out any of the other Seungwoo one shots (there are plenty) uwu

[woman-with-no-name]

Dutch van der Linde x f!reader

Title: Affection

A/N: Wrote this because I was in a weird mood. I was really inspired by this post I saw about men getting to experience non sexual intimacy for the first time. Idk how to link on mobile, sorry! English is not my native language so don't judge me too hard :) Not proof read so excuse any stupid mistakes.

Warnings: Angst. Some fluff. Not really any smut. Soft Dutch.

Story under the cut.

"How about a treat tonight?" You wait for an answer from Dutch but he seems to be deep in thought. You walk up to the cot where he has been sitting for what it seems like an eternity.

You touch his shoulder to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows at you. "I'm sorry dear, did you say something?"

"Let's go to a hotel tonight." You pat his shoulder. "With a bath in the room. What do you say?"

He gets a hold of your hand and leaves a small kiss on the tips of your fingers. Your gaze lingers on his face. The exhaustion is more than visible in eyes. "Whatever you want, my darling." But nevertheless, he smiles. Hiding the pain, as always.

You left camp at sundown. The ride to the closest hotel was short but sweet, and it was nice to be finally alone, away from prying eyes. You arrive at the small hotel and take the nicest room they had. You will be staying for only one night, so you wanted to make the best of your time together. You walk up the stairs, Dutch following closely behind you. He opens the door for you, and you both enter the neatly furnished room, with a big bed, a small dresser, a chair, and a already filled tub sitting in the middle of a fur rug. You both get a bit more comfortable, he hangs his jacket on the chair, you kick your boots off, and sit on the bed. You watch him move around the room, searching for a place to leave his hat on.

"My, my, dear, if we weren't already involved, seeing the way you look at me, I just might assume you like me." He chuckles.

You smile at his remark and stand up.

"Well, someone has to."

"Very funny, miss."

You place your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth under the silky fabric of his vest.

"Now, let's get you in the tub before the water cools off."

"Me? You won't join me?"

"I will, but later. Come on. Dutchy. Let me take care of you." You tease him, slowly unbuttoning his vest.

"I'm not the one that should be taken care of...". He flirts, and tries to get a hold of your waist. But his words pain you, you see the deeper meaning behind them. He genuinely feels like that. He's not the one that gets care, rather the one that is expected to give it, no matter what. It's what a good leader does, right?

You poke his chest with your index finger, keeping his wandering hands away from you. "Get. In."

He raises his hands in defeat. "Alright, just don't shoot me."

He starts taking by taking of his shirt and then the rest of his clothes. You smile at your small victory, and bring the chair behind the tub. You turn your back at him and search for a matchbox in your satchel. The light of day was going away quickly. A candle would be helpful. The sound of splashing water distracts you from the lit match in your fingers as you were bringing it to the wick.

"How romantic." He states with one leg already in the tub, feeling the water. He looked absolutely mesmerising. His torso toned and firm, but not too much, just the perfect amount. Strong arms at his sides. A light trail of dark hair leading all the way to...

"Oouch! Fuck!" You hiss and suck on your burned fingers as you throw the match on the floor. "Goddamnit, get in there you devil! Ugh!"

He bursts out laughing at you, the deep tone almost shaking the room.

He finally settles in the tub and you sit behind him.

"You forgot something." You rise from the chair and stand beside the tub. You hold out your hand to him. He looks at it, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Give me your hand."

He stares at you and then finally lifts his hand from the water and puts it in your, much smaller one. You hold his palm with one hand, as you start to take of his rings with your other one. You slide the lion one first and then the big D. As you take them off you realize that you never saw him like his before, without anything, even his rings, completely bare. You hold them and walk up to the dresser. You take out and open your handheld mirror, and place the rings on the base of it, just as you do with your own jewelry so you don't lose it. You go back to the chair.

"You know, I still have no idea why won't you get in here with me." He sounds slightly annoyed but masks it.

"Just, let me do this... Okay?"

You start patiently running your fingers down his hair to untangle the curled ends. Strand by strand, you seperate the raven locks. He is tense as you do this. You can't see his face but you feel the the tension in the air. His shoulders refusing to go slack against the tub.

"I'm not a child, you know." You ignore him.

"Lean a bit forward, love." He hesitates but obeys in the end. You gently cup the warm water and pour it over his head, keeping one hand on his forehead to stop any of the soapy water to get in his eyes. His hair is completely wet now, you admire the color that you didn't think could get even darker. You start to rub some more soap in your hands. He takes the hint of what's next and leans back against the tub, resting his arms on the edges of it. You start to massage his scalp, spreading the vanilla soap down the length of his hair. Your hands run down to his neck and over his broad shoulders. His grips the edges.

You begin to feel uneasy, he's being awfully quiet, and if anything, he was rearely silent, not if he felt good, not with you. You don't know if you are simply boring him or he's just unaffected by your administrations. You compose yourself and decide to continue with your plan, to make him feel your love. Even though he can't see you, you smile behind him, you stare at the back of his head, you mind wanders and deep in thought you close your eyes, and barely stop yourself from weeping out loud of how happy you are to have him by your side, how it hurts you to see him burdened, how you want him to know that you will be there, no matter what.

You rub the wetness from your eyes with the back of your hand and lift your gaze. You let out a small embarrassed gasp as you finally notice the view in the small pocket mirror you left resting on top of the dresser. His reddened eyes, and the tear stains down his cheeks. He's looking right at you.

You bring your face next to his, cupping his cheek, and hold him close. He closes his eyes, and fresh tears roll down to melt in your skin.

"It's okay, it's okay..." You whisper, and gently kiss his cheek.

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes. Yes, you do. Don't ever forget that."

...

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

[bubble-booty-cuties]

Yesterday, the bindings on Naoto's ass came a bit loose, which seemed to distract Senpai when she subtly probed him for info (read: had a steamy makeout/petting session with him at school). Thinking she could get him to slip up and reveal something, Naoto not only ditched them entirely, she wore her tightest, ass-huggingest pants. Unfortunately, she didn't how much the attention she's getting turned her on, or how sensitive her ass really was, until Senpai had gotten his hands on them.

Once again, I took this ask and turned it into something bigger, sorry if you were hoping for something else!

__________________________________

"Y-Yes Niijima-San.. Yes, I know.. I require a bit more time before I can show you anything concrete, but I promise you, I am very close to cracking this case wide open! I need only find my in, and I will have my suspect! Yes, I won't fail!" With a tap of her phone the call was ended, and Naoto looked straight ahead towards her destination.

Well, she tried to at least, currently she was doing her absolute best to turn invisible in the middle of a busy backstreet, and failing, unsurprisingly.

Even as she looked down low at the ground, hiding her face behind the rim of her hat, the echoes of her own high heels clacking against the stone ground reverberated loudly, and she could hear every one of her steps. Though she was having a bit of trouble, she'd quickly grown used to the shoes and her pace was quick, hoping to reach Leblanc with some ounce of dignity left, at least.

And why was she dressed in such eye catchingly blue, high heeled shoes? Well, it was to accentuate the rest of her outfit, something Ann had managed to drill into her when she'd made her purchase the shoes on one of their outings. For the shoes matched her dark blue button up shirt, blending wonderfully with her own hair. And they even matched her deep blue lipstick covered lips.

Of course, that was just about the most normal part of her outfit. Foregoing her chest binder once again, her plump, perky breasts bounced freely with each long stride of her long legs, straining against her shirt and revealing her deep, creamy pale valley of cleavage that not only stretched out her shirt, but pressed her erect nipples against the soft fabric, making each move a slight, shiver inducing feeling of fabric against sensitive nubs.

Naoto cursed silently as another man passing by tripped and stared like she was the first woman he'd ever seen, his head following her even as she passed by, no doubt looking at her massive, wobbly globes of meaty ass hang out of her extremely tiny, slutty jean booty shorts. Did she forget to mention the shorts? How silly of her, it wasn't as if she felt like she was walking around in nothing but a thong in public with the chill to match.

And speaking of thongs, hers hugged her hips high above where the shorts ended, putting together the perfect slutty image that she regretted she pulled off so well. Damn her naturally curvy figure. Damn her perky, ballooning tits that even Makoto looked jealous of when she saw how they naturally stayed perky. And damn her massive, round, bouncy butt that she could literally feel jiggling with every step!

Why couldn't things have been easy and she was just small? No, she had to be short AND stacked. Even her thighs were plump and meaty, something that made all kinds of men stare. She swore her face would catch fire if one more man whistled after her. But she was so close, so close to Leblanc and so close to making Senpai confess to his crimes!

That's what all of this was for! She had to keep reminding herself, even as her shorts rode up between her perfectly meaty, fat, giant cheeks like a second skin, like a thong, and even as she convinced herself that NO she wasn't wet. You have no proof otherwise! Senpai's weakness, that's what this was! He talked more when she'd dressed like this, talked more when he had her on the ropes doing lewd things to her, talked more into her ear while he was fingering her holes then he ever had before!

That was her chance, she had to make him talk through any means necessary! And if that meant dressing like a five dollar whore for him to toy with while he finally slipped up and spoke of his status as the head of the Phantom Thieves, then goddamnit that's what she was going to do! She was a Shirogane Detective, and she would do what it takes!

"But maybe I should have at least brought a coat.." She muttered to herself as she finally made it to Leblanc's front door, the sign reading closed, but the lights on inside. She'd texted him, told him she'd be coming over, so surely the door was unlocked? At least that meant she wouldn't have to be gawked at by men on the street, but perhaps the alternative of being toyed with and.. Licked was the wasn't the lesser of the two evils..

Bells rung out above her head as she pushed her way inside, making sure the door behind her shut and locked, just so she and him were left alone, and no one walked in while she was dressed this way.

"Senpai? I'm, um, I'm here!" The detective however got no response, the cafe lit up, but seemingly quiet.

"Senpai?" She called out again, hoping for a reply. With a cautious step, Naoto stepped deeper into the cafe and towards the stairs of the attic, where her suspect's room was.

"Hello? The door was unlocked so I let myself in!" She called out just as she made it to the top of the stairs, just to see.. Nothing. The young man was nowhere in sight. Not even his feline companion was in his room.

"What? But he knew I was coming over. Perhaps I should try his cell-Ah!!"

"Why don't we skip to the fun part?"

Naoto squealed yelled in fright as she felt the large, warm hand of her Senpai suddenly smack grip her bubble butt as hard as he could, his other arm snaking around her slim waist and hugging her back closely to his chest, and she didn't even hear his footsteps coming up the stairs! H-How did he sneak up on her?!

"S-Senpai! How did you-? N-No, it doesn't matter, I've come to talk with you!" Naoto tried her best to relax against the young man, but she usually found it difficult when he was groping and mauling her fat ass like a stress toy.

"You came to talk," He started, plainly, evenly, even as he felt p her curves. He simply talked gently into her ear. "You came to talk, dressed in this?"

"I-I.." Naoto froze, looking down at her own clothes, her own perky breasts, feeling her own heat racing. Was it excitement? Was it worry? Why were things never easy with him..? "I need to ask you a few questions, S-Senpai.."

"Sure." Was all she heard as he began kissing the side of her neck, one of his hands snaking down between her thighs in the way it always did when they were alone, in the way that made her spread her legs for him instinctively.. Pushing her pelvis against his hand as if to invite him inside of her..

N-No! Focus! The bluenette detective bit her lip, her face bright red once again, and she tried her best to focus on anything but the pleasure of his fingers.

"Senpai, where were you on-Aah~!" His fingers hooked against her inner walls, and she was gently lead to his bed in the corner of the room, pushed slowly, her high heels clacking loudly. "Wh-Where were you on the night o-of October 8th?"

The young man froze for a second, his fingers paused in her folds, before continuing the next, so quickly she almost didn't catch it, but she did, and she wasn't sure what emotion filled her in that moment.

"With my friends." Was all he said as they both got on their knees on the bed.

"Wh-Where, Senpai?"

"Here and there."

Naoto had to actively rip her mind away from the hope that he was going to bend her over and eat her out again, she had to stop herself from looking forward to the feeling of his face between her- Stop! She's so close! She can feel it!

"Plea-Mmh~! Please answer the question, S-Senpai!" She needed to know! She.. Fuck, why was it so hard to focus when he was so close?! She couldn't even think of what else to ask, her practiced questions, her traps she had thought up for days! Not when he was so close to bending her over once again, not when she wanted to feel his tongue slither passed her tight pucker once more!

That feeling of his tongue inside her ass, it was.. Damnit she'd resorted to fingering her own backdoor on nights he'd teased her just to leave her alone! Her face burned, her lower lips burned with need even more, and all she could remember was that she needed to know the answer to that one damn question!

And then he stopped, with them both on their knees on the bed, he'd stopped his fingers from toying with her, and he pulled away from her sensitive neck to talk into her ear.

"How about a wager?" Naoto's eyes shot open from their clenched shut state in surprise. "If you win, I'll answer any question you want with the truth-"

The detective's heart raced in her chest, the whole truth, there, right there within her grasp.

"And if I win, you have to answer any question I want, with the full truth."

"Wh-What's the wager..?" Whatever it was, she needed to try, she's so close, she could feel it.

"Simple. The first one to cum loses." Excited butterflies bubbled up in her tummy, but just so did trepidation. She'd never made him cum, he'd only ever toyed with her, made her scream, or made her.. Make a mess..

"B-But how am I supposed to.. I-I've never made you.." She trailed off, the words burning in her mouth, but she was far to embarrassed to tell him to his face she wanted to know how to make him cum.

"It wouldn't be fair if we weren't both having fun," He whispered even closer, making her shiver and squirm in place. "So you're going to bend over, and I'm going to fuck you."

"Wh-What?!" Naoto wasn't stupid, she was a Shirogane detective for christ's sake, she had questioned why he'd never tried to go the next step, why he'd never.. Bent her over and fucked her. And on those steamy nights alone, she'd fantasized about it, wondered what it was like..

"Your choice. You can leave if you want." His hands slid down her sides to grab her wide hips, pulling her plump, jiggly ass back against his covered cock, straight up showing her that he was ready to rail her, much to her burning hot embarrassment. "Or, you can get on all fours, and I'm going to rail your ass 'till you're squealing."

He was plain, as usual, and she doubted he was much for negotiating his terms right now. The choices were simple. Leave, or let him fuck her from behind. The choice was obvious.

Slowly, on shaky legs and arms, Naoto leaned forward onto all fours on the bed, laying her well endowed chest down low on the bed, and raising her extra meaty, plump ass high up into the air, those tiny booty shorts riding up deep between the valley of her ass, both hefty cheeks wobbling as she got comfortable in her new position.

Looking back over her shoulder, Naoto's pretty face looked more feminine then ever as she gently held the pillow for comfort, her hat hiding one eye as the other looked at him with excitement and worry. And her voice broke the tension in a way that reminded him who she was, so soft and girly.

"P-Please be gentle, S-Senpai..~"

Joker's cock nearly broke passed his belt as all the blood in his body raced to his appendage at once, his cool guy act all but gone and replaced with pure, red hot horny at the sight of that massive fucking ass wobbling like jello on one of the cutest girls he's ever met. How could she expect him to be gentle after that?!

"S-Senpai~!" Naoto squeaked out as she felt the man smack her ass as hard as he could, he heart beating out of her chest as that feeling of pleasure from a spank came back 10 fold. But she wasn't focused on that. No, she was focused on the fat, raging, throbbing, veiny slap of meat that just slapped down on her ass with a weighty thud, the first cock she'd ever seen in person and it looked hard enough to cut glass, and felt like a bat as it slapped down between her warm cheeks.

Th-That was going in her backdoor? It was throbbing and twitching with need, and it looked so huge, thick and long! And it was so hot! Naoto already felt heated and steamy in the young man's bed, her cheeks lightly peppered with beads of sweat, but the warmth between her cheeks now was like an oven with that fat cock squished between them.

And it was squished between them, sandwiched in between those meaty buns like it belonged, the first thing she'd felt him do was press his cock deeper in her newly slippery valley of heat, and now the head of his cock was almost the only thing visible as it poked out passed her cheeks and over her lower back.

Naoto bit her lip to fight back the adorable little noises she threatened to make as she felt her Senpai grab her asscheeks, squishing her globes together like balls of dough, with his veiny cock right in the middle. And finally, she felt her body lightly rock on the bed as he began thrusting his cock between her sweat slicked cheeks.

"Ahaaa~! Senpai~!" She could feel his thrusts grow faster between her cheeks, and she could only think about how her Senpai was using her pillowy butt like an onahole! B-But, she remembered the wager, if she could m-make him cum first, then she'd win!

With a peptalk and hope not a single soul could see her besides the obvious, Naoto braced herself against the bed and did what she'd seen Ann and even Futaba do a number of times before.. With a bounce of her extra wide birthing hips, Naoto started twerking her massive fat ass on her Senpai's c-cock! Each and every twerk of her hips made her ass jiggle and ripple like two massive water balloons, her cheeks clapping against his hips heftily as he let go of her and let her work.

Naoto had never felt this way before, the embarrassment was like a forest fire against her pretty face, and she'd wondered if she ever saw herself doing something so.. so.. Lewd! But, the moment she heard the deep, masculine, pleasured grown of the young man behind her, Naoto felt.. Sexy.. She felt good knowing her extra plump rear was good for something other then ripping open her favorite trousers.. That groan was from her twerking on her Senpai's dick, from her making him feel good, and she just couldn't stop herself from slipping her own hand down the front of her shorts, toying with herself at the feeling of his cock between her sweaty cheeks.

The plapping of her cheeks against his hips echoed in the room as the young man groaned in pleasure, and once more the harsh sound of him smacking her fat ass and her high pitched squeal filled the room instead.

"A-Aaah~! I-It's okay, S-Senpai~! You can c-.. Cum whenever you w-want~!" Naoto tried to sound sexy, anything she could to make him cum early, to win the wager, but one look back at that throbbing beast between her cheeks and the look in his eyes made her realize he wasn't anywhere close to being done.

Suddenly, Naoto felt the man pull his cock free from her her warmth and felt him grab her booty shorts, yanking the poor excuse for pants down around her thighs and down onto the bed below, leaving her extra fat ass bare of all but her tiny blue thong that couldn't hope to hide her jiggly cheeks, let alone the cute little twitching pucker between them.

"W-Wait, S-Senpai-!" Naoto squeaked in ways she didn't wanna think about tonight, her voice high and feminine, pretty and girly, and she sounded so needy it hurt to think about. But what else was she supposed to do when she felt the tip of her Senpai's cock slid up and down her cheeks, pressing lightly against the fabric between his cock and her pink ring, as if taunting her.

"Senpai, pl-please, just-" Naoto pushed her face in deeper to the pillow when she felt him grab her thong and pull it out from between her cheeks, not even taking them off, just pulling the small blue string to the side, catching on her plump cheek. And with two jiggly handfuls, the young man pulled her cheeks apart and once again was greeted with a front row seat of her needy, wet, twitching holes.

"P..Please don't stare Senpai.." Naoto's gasping breaths were quick and uneasy as the gravity of her position finally set in, and she knew her Senpai was looking at at her little backdoor, with his member hard and waiting for it's chance to enter inside of her.

"You're so pretty, Naoto."

It was those simple, quiet words that made Naoto push her face into her pillow in embarrassment, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment.

"It's why you can't expect me to hold back."

"A-Aaah~!" It was a sudden, warm, wet pressure against her back door that made her clenched eyes shoot open in surprise, the feeling of his broad, throbbing hard tip against her tight little pucker was as pleasurable as it was shocking. There was a slight amount of pain, a feeling of something so big pushing into her that only his tongue and her own fingers had gotten into, but it wasn't unbearable.

Certainly, that didn't stop Naoto from gripping the pillow and sheets as tight as she could as the pressure against her asshole only got stronger, and she felt the warm precum drip out onto her ring of muscle.

He was slow but firm, and just like that, with a wet little plop, Naoto's anal cherry was popped, and her tiny asshole spread and clenched around the tip of her Senpai's cock, feeling bigger then it ever had before.

"S-Senpaiii~!" There was a dull pain that mixed in with radiating warmth and pleasure, and the tip of his cock throbbed and twitched inside of her, completely still as the man stopped his push to slide his hands up from holding her cheeks open, to holding her wide, sultry hips like handle bars. And it was all the break she got before he started right back up again.

"Ha-Haaaa~! S-Senpai~! You're so-!" Deep, that's all she could think of, as inch after inch of thick, throbbing, veiny cock slid passed her stretched little ring and into her warm little asshole, inch after inch filled her and reached places she'd never felt before. There was pain, but it was deeply overshadowed by an intense, blistering hot feeling of pleasure and fullness as he plundered her insides, making sure she couldn't pull away even if she tried by pulling her wide hips back to meet his narrow ones, watching her extra fat ass swallow up his dick hungrily while she made the most adorable noises ever.

And just as she felt like his cock was reaching her very core, making her head spin, it stopped, and she felt her wobbly cheeks meet his with a small clap of flesh on flesh, his balls nuzzled comfortably against her wet, dripping lower lips and reminding her that it wasn't just an endless ladder, and her Senpai was officially balls deep in her rear.

He groaned, and twitched, and throbbed, and she could feel her own hole clenching and squeezing from the new and strange feeling of being absolutely filled. Naoto's eyes were practically rolled up into her head as she pressed her teeth into the pillow in front of her, and that was before the sudden and breathtaking feeling of him slowly pulling his cock back out of her almost sore already asshole.

Every inch leaving made her feel more empty then ever before, not unpleasant, but she had just gotten used to having his cock inside of her, and now he was pulling it out until just the tip was left inside. And then, with her legs quaking under her fat ass, she felt him press his hips forward once again, but gone was his gentle care and slow pace, instead she felt like he was trying to force his dick back inside of her, quicker, harder. Not so fast, but certainly enough to make her, well, scream.

"Aaaaaah~!! S-Senpai~!!" Her high pitched scream was muffled by the pillow in front of her mouth as he once again bottomed out sinde of her ass with another meaty clap of her ass, much louder and harsher then before, not taking a second of hesitation before she was ince again pleasurably tortured by that feeling of him pulling out of her ass inch by inch, just for him to actually pull her wide hips back to meet his hard, firm thrust.

All things considered it was a moderate pace, thrusting his hips forward in long, hard strokes while pulling her fat ass back to meet him halfway, a nice rhythm of her ass clapping heavily back against his pelvis, weighty cheeks rippling and wobbling like two massive waterballoons as he fucked her ass.

For Naoto however, the virgin felt like her asshole was on fire, and she had no idea this was a slow pace. Instead, Naoto's body rocked back and forth on the bed, her much smaller and lighter frame bouncing forward and back to the strong thrusts while she almost lost her mind to feeling of getting fucked like a bitch, face down with her ass raised high for her Senpai.

"H-Hhnnng~!! Hng~!! Hngk~!! Hnnngggk~!!" The pillow between her clenched teeth muffled her squeaks and squeals, her own juices pouring down her thighs as tears formed in her pretty blue-grey eyes. Oh god, she.. She was getting fucked by her Senpai, she was bent over on all fours getting fucked by her Senpai and she could barely remember where she was!

The harsh smack of his hand meeting her meaty bubble butt echoed even louder then the clapping of her cheeks, her globe of pale flesh rippling on impact and wobbling for seconds after as she squealed loudly at the feeling of getting fucked and spanked at the same time.

"Fuck! Your ass is so tight!"

Naoto almost didn't register it, her Senpai's voice was deep and guttural, labored as he pounded her ass like a slow drum, and she could feel herself shiver at the idea.. The idea he was feeling so good from using her hole~

And that's when she felt the young man grab her wrist, yanking it away from sheets and using it like like a handle, yanking her face up and out of the pillow while the other stabilized her rocking body. Of course, that just meant she couldn't hide her bright red, beautiful face in the sheets, or her pretty voice~

"Aaaaaah~!!! Ah~!! Ah~!! Ah~!! S-Senpai~!! Y-You feel s-so-Aaah~!!" She looked back at him, tears of pleasure shining in her eye as her pretty voice chimed so loudly when not muffled, and it was all that the young man needed to snap.

Grabbing her other arm, the young man pulled her entire body back against his hips and her fat ass onto his cock, slamming forward far harder then he had before, catching her completely by surprise as she was suddenly not in control of her own body at all, her arms bound and pulled behind her, and her whole body now at the mercy of her Senpai. The feeling was exciting yet scary, but not nearly as exciting as the sudden strength in his hips, slamming against her bubbly cheeks harder then she thought he could. And she soon realized she knew very little about how rough sex could actually be.

Suddenly her Senpai yanked his cock out of her already abused whole like it was stuck, before jamming his cock into her asshole like it barely fit before, yanking her entire body back to meet his extremely hard thrust before doing it again even faster, and it was this sudden and brutal pace that made Naoto's eyes roll up completely as her tongue hung out of her mouth.

"Senpai~!!! S-Senpai~!!! Ghaaaa~!! Haaaa~!!!" The young man's blistering pace turned her detective brain into a slutty mush as he brutalized her previously virgin asshole, her meaty, wobbly, planetary globes of creamy smooth flesh clapping like a drum so hard and fast it was a wonder if anyone could hear it outside, along with the squeaking bed and her slutty squeals of pleasure.

In the back of her mind she wondered if this was what it was like to be a whore, to be used by a man who wanted nothing more then to watch her fat cheeks jiggle and ripple around his cock while he ripped the screams of pleasure from her throat, just to dump the contents of his balls inside of her. It was the last vestige of her inquisitive mind, but even that soon shattered along with the buttons of her blue shirt, the small bits of plastic popping off as her plump, perky tits sprang free, swinging and bouncing freely beneath her chest as her whole body bounced and rocked back and forth.

Sweat dripped down each and every curve of her body, the heat in her core as sweltering as the heat around her, and it was there that the young man suddenly let go of her arms to grab a fist full of her partly long hair instead, her hat skewing forward on her head to cover her vision partly, rocking, bouncing, and teetering on her head dangerously. It was a wonder it hadn't already fallen off, but she wasn't focused on that, not when the brutal, feral pounding of her asshole made her clench hard around her Senpai's cock, and the moment she felt the man smack her fat cheek harder then it'd ever been smacked before, something inside of her snapped, broke, and suddenly she felt a rushing pleasure overtake her entire body and she saw stars for a few seconds. Not to mention her squeal.

"AAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhh~!!!!!" Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as her entire body shook and writhed in pure, white hot, mind melting pleasure, and the feeling of her Senpai's cock still slamming in balls deep into her tiny clenching asshole only made it last longer, hit harder, and she could feel something spray across her meaty thighs and make a mess of the bed below her. Drool dripped down her chin and she felt a tear fall down her face as well, and every single fiber of her being was on fire.

And suddenly, it all stopped, and she felt the young man behind her let go of her hair and hips, yank his cock free from her little gaping asshole, and let her fall face down onto the bed, her shock overtaking her for a second as her body screamed out for more! There had to be more! He wasn't done yet right?! He hasn't cum, he can keep going!

Naoto looked back at the man with almost desperate surprise, rising to her hands and knees shakily, looking almost pleadingly at his lubed, throbbing, shining cock before looking up at him.

"S-Senpai, wh-what-?"

"You lost the wager."

What?

"You lost, and now you have to tell the truth."

"I-I don't under-"

"Tell me what you want."

What did she want? What did he mean what did she want?! She wanted to know.. something. She- What did she-? N-No, she wanted-! She wanted-!

"I-I want.. I want.."

"I-I want you to f-fuck my a-ass~!! P-Please Senpai, f-fuck my ass m-more~!!" Naoto needed more~! She felt so empty, shame and embarrassment made her face light up and almost steam, but she couldn't hold back anymore, not when she felt so lightheaded, not when his cock was still so hard~!

The needy detective bit her lip in desperation as she reached back and took both of her creamy globes in her hands, spreading her fat cheeks apart while looking back at her Senpai, panting and gasping while revealing her own tiny, winking, slightly gaped, slippery little backdoor~!

"Please~!! I-I need Senpai's c-cock~!!" She didn't care anymore~! She needed to be fucked again~! She needed that feeling of being filled, she needed to feel him fuck her ass so hard she could barely think~! "Fuck my ass~!!"

All it took was a grab of her wide hips and a slam of his as hard as he could before Naoto felt his balls slap against her dripping cunt, slamming in nuts deep into her needy asshole while her cheeks rippled from the meaty clap~! And Naoto once again made that slutty face she tried to hide, but she kept herself held up, didn't put her face in the pillow~! Her Senpai wanted to hear her, it's why he did it before right~? And she squealed just as loud as she did before~!

"Y-YEESS~!!!" There was no build up, Naoto's entire body rocked as hard as before as her Senpai fucked her fat ass, brutally railing her tiny little pink pucker like a jackhammer, but this time he was met by the slutty sight of the little detective throwing her fat ass back on his cock, bouncing her cheeks back against his hips and making sure every single inch was as deep as could possibly be!

"F-Fuck me~!! Aaaah~!!! Fuck me Senpai~!!" Stars exploded across her vision with every single brutal slam of his hips, and Naoto had the sluttiest look she'd ever had on her face, her eyes rolled up while she squealed happily out for more.

Naoto suddenly felt the young man's weight push harder into his thrusts as he reached forward and began mauling her fat tits, groping and squeezing them so hard she almost winced, from pain and pleasure both at once, and she could only grit her teeth s=to stop herself from screaming so loud it broke the window near them as he pulled and twisted one of her sensitive little nubs~!

"Tell me what you are!!"

What she was~? Naoto could barely remember her name, but she knew what she was, she was a whore~!! She was a nasty, needy whore~! That's what women like her were right~? Women who loved getting fucked up the ass like this were-

"I-I'm a whore~!! I'm a n-nasty whore~!!" Naoto couldn't hold on, she fell forward onto chest and her Senpai followed her down, slamming his cock down hard into her little asshole one last time like a feral beast, ruining her tiny previously virgin tunnel in a prone bone that left the room spinning for the little detective. Leverage worked against her in the best way possible, and her fat ass rippled and wobbled like two massive water beds, both meaty cheeks shining with sweat as he hooked her legs open permanently with his own, making sure she couldn't curl up even if she wanted to. And all she could feel was her Senpai's weight and heat on her body while she was fucked into a squealing puddle.

"You're my whore!! My personal whore!!"

"YES~!! I'm your whore~!!! I'm Senpai's anal whore~!!!" She could do nothing but lay there and take his cock like a whore, it's what she was~!! A whore for cock~!! Cum squirted out of her untouched cunt over and over all over her thighs and the sheets as he slammed in like a jackhammer, she swore she heard something under the bed break as she almost blacked out, screaming so loud she felt her own throat hurt before he finally slammed into her slutty little love tunnel one last fucking time, and she was so suddenly filled with a boiling hot, bubbly sticky heat~!!

"AAAAAHHHHHH~!!!!!" Naoto's entire body tensed as she came harder then she ever had in her life~!! The feeling of being filled, of practically being bred felt so fucking good, she wanted every single last drop inside of her~!! She wanted to be Senpai's cock warmer~!! She wanted him to fill her asshole with his cum every single day~!!!

And suddenly, it stopped, all of it, the pounding, the squealing, the cumming.. And all that was left was her Senpai suddenly flopping down on top of her, his cock still twitching inside of her hole, spurting the last of his seed, and the only noises filling the room was their panting and gasping.

Naoto felt so small under her Senpai, more feminine then she'd ever felt in her life, so warm and full~ She felt.. She didn't know, but it felt right, almost as right as the butterflies that sprung up in her tummy as the young man wrapped his arms around her small waist and held her gently, laying them both to their sides on the bed and pulling her as close as he could against his chest, his face buried in her hair behind her.

She felt so light, and happy~ So.. Sleepy~ Darkness slowly covered her eyes, or were those her eyelids, and she felt her entire body relax against the young man behind her~ And she remembered she was supposed to tel the truth~? Or something~? Well she knew what the truth was~

Sleep finally came for the small detective as she mumbled what was in her mind~

"I love you Senpai~"

Soft snores was the only thing that filled the room now, and the young man wasn't far behind, putting his glasses to the side and shutting off the lights. He'd have to say it back to her tomorrow.

Though he was worried how she'd react when she found out she needed to walk to school the next day wearing what she came over in, with a limp.. And he wondered how Sojiro would react when he saw them both coming down the stairs..

[garoumylove]

Golden Hour Part 9

Domestic fluff ♥️GarouxReader♥️. Taking care of sick Garou in this part... You can also read it on AO3 here :)

I will myself to wake up. I gather all the fucking mental capacity and energy I have left and will myself to wake up. To push through this half-asleep, half-conscious blackness that I keep drifting in an out of for fuck knows how long.

Somewhere, as if distant and far away, I can feel her pressed against me. I need to wake the fuck up. I need to get closer. I need to feel her closer.

I also feel something soft and purring, like a little motor, next to my head.

Wake the fuck up.

I remember feeling so fuckin’ hot. So unbearably fucking hot.

I’m still feeling way off but at least it’s not a fucking hell sauna anymore.

Wake up, goddamnit.

How many hours has it been?

I feel I’m getting a little closer, can feel more of her weight on me, her head on my chest. I don’t feel her move. I think she’s asleep. Did we sleep together all night like this? Words I never thought would drift through my mind…

I need to open my fuckin’ eyes and see it for myself because right now I don’t believe it. Maybe I’m still fucked up and delirious and this is just some fever dream. In which case, let’s not wake up yet. Let it burn if this is what my mind gives me in dire circumstances. Maybe I should get sick more often if this is how it is.

I feel her stir a bit, get more comfortable on my chest.

No. I think this is real.

Fuck.

Wake up, son of a bitch.

Finally, my mind seems to come back into focus. Suddenly, I can feel everything in real time, the warmth of her body against me, her light, slow breathing as she sleeps, the cat curled up next to my head, this sweat-stained t-shirt. I hear a car drive by outside. The late morning light cutting through the window.

The fever seems to have passed but I feel so fuckin’ worn out even though I’ve done nothing but lie here all night next to her. Everything feels so fuckin’ heavy. I lie completely still. I want to put my arm around this woman lying half on top of me. This woman who stayed all night looking after an insolent asshole like me.

I remember that last thing, when she said ‘I’m here’ before I passed out again.

And she’s still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t had enough of my shit and just up and left. Sometimes, when I come in through her back door, always open for me at any hour, I get this thought. This thought that I’m gonna come in to find this house empty. That one day, I’ll open that door and she won’t be here. But it hasn’t happened yet.

I open that door and she’s always here. Either cooking, or watching tv or reading or if I’m very lucky, I find her on the couch very much waiting for me wearing nothin’ but her heels, very impatiently waiting for me and that is always a fun time. Always. No matter how damn tired or sleep deprived I am, I make sure I show my fucking appreciation.

And she’s here now, letting me rest, sleep against her, never leaving my side.

And I remember thinking ‘Fuck’ as I heard those almost silent tears. I’ve really goddamn fucked up now. So waking up to this feels like a fucking miracle.

I open my eyes. I can’t see her face like this but the sight of her body next to mine is more than enough proof. Her arm wrapped around my chest is more than enough.

She’s wearing this big, thick jumper but suddenly I realise she’s been here like this on top of the covers all night. The heating is on but my arm reflexively goes around her. Fuck. How cold was it last night? I press my arm tighter around her, hoping she didn’t freeze.

The cat notices I’m awake and uncurls, stands up, her purring growing louder and more excited as she starts to knead the pillow next to my head with her paws, pokes at my forehead with her tiny nose.

I give her a warning look, ordering her to stay quiet but she doesn’t give two shits, as usual, starts walking around the bed, all over me.

And of course the commotion wakes her up. Goddamn cat. I was good like this. So fuckin’ good.

I feel her move softly against me, her head turns a bit and for a moment there I feel like she presses herself closer into me. I can feel her hand curl around my t-shirt, as if she needs me here, and it seems like she’s going back to sleep before suddenly lifting herself up, looking beautifully sleepy and dazed and surprised.

That’s it, I think. Heaven is fuckin’ over. Hello real world. I’m about to get my ass handed to me.

She blinks a few times, adjusting to the light, looking around. And then her eyes settle on mine. Here it comes.

“You’re awake,” she whispers with the most relieved biggest smile I have seen. This was not what I was expecting. “How do you feel?” she asks, but before I can answer she starts fussing over me, the questions one after the other.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

No. Just stay here.

“How do you feel?”

Like shit, but I’ll survive.

“Did you sleep ok?”

Better than ever.

“I wasn’t bothering you?”

You could never bother me. Get back here. Get under the covers this time so I can keep you warm.

“Do you still feel hot?”

She puts her hand to my forehead softly but feels that’s not enough and suddenly I feel her lips light against my skin instead, her hand on my cheek.

“You’re still pretty warm,” she says, quickly pulling away, kneeling next to me.

I have no idea what the fuck she just said.

What the fuck just happened?

I know it means nothing. But she can’t keep doing this. She can’t be giving me these moments of her. Because moments are not enough anymore. Barely fucking enough. Barely fucking enough to stay sane.

“I’m going to make you something easy to eat,” she informs me with the most gorgeous smile, running her hand through my hair casually, just like I pet Delilah. “I’ll be back soon.”

“No, you don’t-” I start, try to sit up but she’s way faster than me in this fuckin’ sorry state.

“Can’t hear you,” she says all sing-song and bounces out the door and I can hear her hurrying downstairs and out of the house. Of course. There ain’t nothing that good to eat here.

I sit there, my body adjusting to being upright. Fuck, this is shit.

I sit there and I try to piece all these moments together. That first one, her naked in the lamp light, in the dark blue night, my head in her lap, her hands bandaging me, her fingers raking affectionately through my hair and so many others. I add the warm feel of her lips on my forehead.

It’s like this fuckin’ puzzle. I feel I have all the pieces but they won’t fit together. Won’t turn into something whole, something that makes fucking sense even though I feel like they should. This frustration is startin’ to drive me fucking mad. What the fuck more do I need?

I feel like a starving man invited to a fuckin’ banquet but all I can do is stare. Like if I reach out and take something it will all disappear in a goddamn wisp of smoke.

All that fuckin’ power and all that fuckin’ pride I’ve been collecting. They can’t help me here.

I find myself laughing quietly at the bitter fucking irony.

The cat looks at me, probably wondering if that fever didn’t do a number on my brain.

And I start to wonder too.

I notice I’m gripping the edge of the covers, my fingers aching. No real, no satisfying outlet for my frustrations or desires.

Anyway, she went back home. I doubt she’ll be rushing back here and I need a fucking shower, I think, suddenly feeling less than comfortable in this shirt.

I let the covers go and get up and it takes me a few moments to walk straight but I make it to the bathroom.

And I know that look now. I know what it meant. Know now that I wasn’t the only one fuckin’ drowning when we were together. Though I was probably more honest about it with myself than she was, as surprising as that is. I started drowning a lot earlier than her. And then it seems she jumped in after me and then we were both in trouble. I remember her wearing that look still the first time it happened, the first time when she was finally in my bed, and not because I was fucking sick or needed nursing. That first time, that I still have a hard time believing really happened, I remember the first taste of her mouth, the feel of her hands, her hot skin, the scent of her, warm and intimate. That first time that felt like an eternity in the making. The feverish relief of finally having her… I could forget anything in life, but I ain’t going to forget that until the day I die.

Under this shirt things are looking better. I stare at myself in the mirror, turning but not too much because it still fucking hurts. I’m still black and blue but it’s a much lighter shade. I’ve still got a pretty evident purple stain across one cheekbone but even that is going down nicely and will probably be almost invisible by tomorrow morning.

At least that’s something, I think as I get in the shower.

As I stand under the hot water, I feel somewhat more alert and awake, though still like I’m one step behind reality.

I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a fucking shower so much in my life. And that’s really saying something.

How long do I stand there, spaced the fuck out? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?

Eventually I hear the cat meowing and realise she’s probably getting mighty hungry too.

“Yeah, coming, coming,” I call to her as I turn the water off and shake the water off my hair.

I go to put some clean clothes on but realise I ain’t brought any with me in my fucking stupor and her meowing is just getting louder.

Ah, fuck it. I just wrap the towel around my waist and head out.

She purrs happily as I come out of the bathroom and leads me down the stairs. Fuck, I want a Coke so bad, I think as I follow her, suddenly feeling the thirst in my throat.

I give her her food and she goes at it, completely forgets I exist. That’s the thanks I get, eh? I shake my head as I stare out the kitchen window, savouring the familiar carbonated taste as I look out over this small jungle. Once upon a time, someone kept this little backyard all neat and presentable. Not me. I got better fuckin’ things to do. But it might be nice if-

I hear the rustling sound of a plastic bag and footsteps approaching. Fuck, that was fast! And before I can do anything she’s right there and we’re almost face to face as she comes into the kitchen and catches me wearing almost fuck all, Coke in hand, Delilah still happily face deep in her bowl.

She stops in her tracks and stares at me, mostly in surprise, plastic bag with that familiar box in hand. I stare back.

And suddenly she has this look I’ve never seen before. It’s not surprise. The surprise is there but almost like a mask, superficial. And under that she’s got this look…this colour blooming across her cheeks I’ve never seen before. She looks at me like she wants to say something, do something, something that... Almost like she’s asking a question that I can’t quite understand. And that colour keeps blossoming across her face. Just like her in that window that night, being seen like this doesn’t bother me in the least. We’re all just fucking mammals aren’t we. But this mysterious look she’s got, this gaze, makes me feel particularly animal and I don’t understand why. Without a single touch, I start to feel that tension inside, that tension that will not let me rest, takes over and drives me crazy until it gets some sort of release. This moment, her…She’s like fucking electricity.

And then suddenly her expression changes to one of brief self-consciousness and then to annoyance and her eyes grow wider.

“What are you doing going around half-naked and drinking that cold thing?!” She lets me have it. “Do you want to get even more sick?!”

If it means you’ll get into bed with me then yes. I want to say that but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

“Get upstairs right now and put some clothes on!” she commands dangerously.

“Or else what?” I grin. I can’t help it. Fucking Christ, I can’t help it. Any opportunity I am given to be insolent, I will take it. And I want to tease her. I can’t fuckin’ help it either.

She just narrows her eyes at me. And I fuckin’ love it.

“Are you gonna spank me?” I say, putting the Coke down at least.

“Now,” she says her voice full of feminine authority, ignoring my remark but I see that colour in her cheeks again, as she points towards the stairs and I gotta fuckin’ obey. But that grin ain’t going anywhere. “And put a damn sweatshirt on too,” she adds as I walk past her, using all my control to not stop, to not grab her arms, pull her in, press her against me, slide my hands under her own sweatshirt…To get that release. Hers and mine. And for a moment, no, a fraction of a moment, I feel like she wants me to do just that. But this fever must've messed with my fucking mind. I'm deluding myself. There ain't no way. But this feeling as I pass by her, bodies almost touching...No. I just keep walking, like the proud motherfucker I am. I can be that on the outside at least, even if on the inside I feel I’m losing my fucking mind, trying to figure out how to make it all fit together.

“What am I going to do with you…” she sighs, just under her breath as I get further away.

What indeed darlin’, what indeed?

I ask myself the same question as I throw on the first clean sweatshirt I see.

She’s made me omelet rice and it tastes so fucking good, I think as I sit at the table and we have breakfast, Delilah weaving back and forth between our legs underneath.

“You’re going right back to bed when you’re done,” she says as she finishes her own food.

“Eh?” I frown. “Then why’d I have to get all dressed up?”

“You’re still sick,” she rolls her eyes but I can still see the concern behind her mild frustration. “You may think you’re superhuman, but you’re not, I hate to break it to you.”

“I’d say I’m pretty close,” I say, never backing down from an argument.

“Ah, the blind confidence of youth,” she says, jokingly condescending. “I love how you think you’re invincible.”

“Guilty as charged,” I say. Ain’t I proven I pretty much am?

“I love your unfailing self-assuredness but one day something is going to shatter your illusion,” she says, taking the last bite of her food. “And when it does, I don’t want it to destroy you.”

She looks up at me and there’s this quiet, sobering seriousness in her words.

The higher they climb, the harder they fall, that little voice echoes in my mind. That little voice again that seems to be becoming my constant companion.

“As if anything could destroy me,” I say, less than humbly, breaking the tension.

“Of course,” she finally sighs in agreement as she watches me finish off the breakfast she’s made. “Now get back to bed.”

I stay exactly where I am.

“And what the fuck am I supposed to do there?” I ask. I fucking hate lying around doing nothing. Usually, I feel this constant movement, this constant need for action and sittin’ still is a fucking chore.

“What do you mean? There’s lots of things you can do in bed!” She says.

Oh…don’t I know it. But I don’t reckon she’s talking about any of the sweet things that I’ve got on my mind.

“You can read, you can watch something, you can play games, talk to friends…” she lists off things that I’m sure other people enjoy doing. I just look at her, feel my eyebrow rising. That doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest.

“Does it look like I got any of those things?”

“Just get back into bed!” she says finally. “I’ll go grab you some books and whatever.”

No, that’s not what I meant. Fuck.

She sees the look I’m giving her.

“Now!” There’s that authority again and fuck, fine, I put the plate in the sink and make my way upstairs again.

I lie in bed, on top of the covers, not bothering to get undressed, the cat by my side and I hear the front door open again and her light footsteps up the stairs, and right to my bedroom.

“I thought I told you to get back to bed!” she says, exasperated.

“I am in bed!” I say, sitting up.

“I meant like under the-” her shoulders drop suddenly. “Fine, forget it. Good enough,” she says and puts a new bag on my table.

“Look, I got you something to read,” she says, pulling out book after book, showing the covers to me briefly before piling them up on the table.

I know she’s got that big bookshelf in her spare room but I’ve never looked at it up close. Not that interested to be honest. Not that I hate reading, it just seems somewhat pointless to me.

“I grabbed a couple of classics,” she says, holding them up for me for a second, “and here are some more recent ones. Here’s a non-fiction one. Thought you’d probably like that,” she flashes the book at me, “and…here’s a romance. I think you’ll love this one,” she gives me that cheeky grin, this book with a flowery hazy cover in hand. The kind where the people probably keep getting together and breaking up and then finally get together and cry about it or some shit.

“You know me so well,” I say, looking back up at her.

“I do my best,” she says

You do, darlin’, you really do. And so this is why I still can’t fucking understand why all these goddamn pieces won’t fit together and we are what we are, in some sort of fucking limbo, where I have you but only like this. Where I have you but I don’t.

“Also, here are some magazines,” she says, pulling out a small stack of backdated issues of those magazines you find at the checkout, with the fucked up celebrity photos and headlines about who’s fucking whom and whatever.

“You really do know me,” I say, winking at her.

“No!” she says, realising the vapidity of the cover of the magazine she’s holding. “For the crosswords! They let me take these home from work from reception when they get old enough. I like doing the crosswords!” she explains.

Oh. Never thought of that. Never really done any or been interested in that.

“Or are you a sudoku guy?” she says, flipping through the trash and getting to the back pages with the astrology and the recipes and the crosswords.

Well, I’ve always found numbers easier to deal with. But I can’t say I’ve done any sudoku either.

“Eh,” I shrug.

“You’re impossible,” she says. And haven’t I heard that before. But when she says it, with this teasing tenderness, I don’t even mind. “Well why don’t we do a crossword together, then? Because seriously, it looks like you’re bored out of your skull. Though you might still be bored out of your skull even with the crossword…”

I wasn’t counting on that. I thought she’d just leave all these things here and leave, that she’d have more important things to deal with on her weekend than me. But now I’m getting all her time and attention. And everything makes even less sense.

“Only one way to find out,” I say as that pleasant fucked up pain in my chest shows up again as she climbs onto my bed with me, sitting against the side wall, her legs over mine as I sit against the other wall.

“I don’t know why,” she says as she gets more comfortable, pen in hand, “but I’ve always liked puzzles.”

Sure. Puzzles are fun. When you can figure them out, I think as I watch her as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and folds the magazine over to have a better surface to write on.

I feel her legs on top of mine and suddenly remember that moment from this morning, when she was half awake, grabbing onto me, nuzzling in closer. I close my eyes, reliving that particular moment.

“Are you tired?” her voice brings me back. “Do you want to lie down? Should I move?”

I open my eyes again and look at her. This is a puzzle I’ll never fucking solve and the frustration it causes me…I fucking swear.

“No,” I say, giving her a nod to continue.

And even though she said let’s do it together, she doesn’t need my help at all. She reads out the clues and then fills them in straight away.

“First name of the last tsar,” she says, her eyes scanning the black and white grid. “Nicholas.”

“Zodiac sign represented by a ram. Aries.”

“Flightless bird endemic to New Zealand. Kiwi!”

And she really does look like she’s enjoying herself and despite this unidentifiable pain, despite my tiredness, despite this frustration coursing through my veins, when I see her innocent enjoyment it’s somehow all ok. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything like that in a long time. Besides that ice cream that idiotic evening.

“What the fuck is the point of being a bird if you ain’t even goin’ to fly?” I say as she fills in the four letter word.

“I guess there’s no need if there are no predators,” she says, looking up at me, as if coming out of a trance. “I guess that’s why it’s an endangered species these days with all those introduced animals.”

Fucking evolution. Really fucked over that kiwi, eh? It’s all well and good to be weak when no one’s bothering you, when there are no threats but what are you going to do when everyone starts ganging up on you? When you’re suddenly the target? Are you supposed to just put your hands up and say I surrender? Wave that whtie fuckin’ flag and let them fucking kick you to the ground? No. That ain’t what you do. You get-

“What’s wrong?” I hear her voice.

“What?” I’m confused.

“You’re scowling like,” she says, imitating my anger-ridden face before cracking up and I can’t hold on to the rage either when she laughs like that.

“Nothing,” I say and try to change the topic. “How the fuck do you know all these things?”

“Oh…I am just older and wiser than you,” she says in this mystic voice before giggling and turning back to the magazine. “No. I kid. I just read a lot and know a lot of useless facts.”

Older and wiser. Yeah. That sounds about right.

“Score before volleyball team wins the set,” she reads out and I can see this puzzled, slightly annoyed look on her face now. “The sports ones always get me,” she says, the tip of the pen against her lip as she thinks.

I remember her lips on my skin again. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“Match point,” I say without much reflection.

She writes it in.

“Oh!” she says in delight. “Correct! How did you know?” She asks, turning back to me.

I think for a moment.

“P.E.,” I say.

I remember we used to play it every once in a while, before I got kicked out. And I particularly remember because I was fuckin’ good at it, like I was at everything in PE, and that last game we played… I was fucking carrying that whole game. As usual. We were at match point and I fuckin’ scored. I aimed it right at the inside of the line. I knew it would hit just inside the line, just out of the blockers’ reach. I fuckin’ saw it on the inside and they called foul, out of bounds and it didn’t fuckin’ count and the point went to other side. I remember arguin’, this blind anger taking over, and then being kicked off the court. Fucking memories. Happy days.. It was inside the line. It was just too hard, too fast for them to see. But I saw it. We were at match point. And I got told to calm the hell down and got thrown off the court.

Their fuckin’ loss I guess.

I said goodbye to that place forever soon after.

“I can’t say I ever liked PE much,” she says, her attention on me now, the magazine down in her lap. “I bet that was your favourite subject, huh?” she says.

“Nah,” I say. I mean, I liked it but it wasn’t my favourite. It was a good way to get moving, to let some steam off. More like a period to relax.

“What was your favourite?” She asks. “And don’t say lunch. Because that’s what you said last time. And I’m asking seriously now.”

“So it’s like that, eh?” I tease. “Asking seriously are you?”

She gives my leg a little shove with her foot, as if to say ‘Oh, come on!’

I fold my arms across my chest, think about it for a bit.

“Physics,” I say finally.

“Why physics?” she asks, all her attention still on me.

“Don’t know,” I shrug. “The experiments were fun.”

That ain’t a lie. I remember always likin’ the practical stuff in science. And then when we got to launch that rocket…that was just the icing on the fucking cake. I always preferred numbers to words and calc wasn’t bad either. But maths was more abstract. The numbers were just kind of there, these nebulous equations that just generated more numbers. In physics there was something practical, tangible. Forces, actions, reactions, gravity, energy. And the laws were always the same. Gravity was always gravity. There was no escaping it. Not like all those fucking words that were so abstract, meanings subtle and changing, depending on how they were said, who said them... With physics you felt like you were on solid ground and once you understood the principles, they would always be there.

“Yeah, science was pretty fun,” she agrees. “Even though it’s like a century since I’ve been to high school,” she laughs and goes back to the crossword.

Is that it? That’s it, isn’t it? The missing piece of the puzzle. It’s our age. She always exaggerates hers. Plays it off like it’s this terrible thing but I ain’t ever seen it as such. She tells me the most interesting things, and I always end up learnin’ something new whether I want to or not. And she seems to see right through my bullshit. When I’m with her, I feel somehow grounded and can forget the fuckin’ violent mess in my head for a while. She has this talent for taking me for a total joke when my head gets too fuckin’ big and listening to me with complete seriousness at other times, preventing me from fuckin’ exploding and destroying my life once and for all.

At the time, I resented hearin’ that. No one fucking cared about me. It took me an age to even accept that she did. Anyone trying to get close, to find things out were just bound to use it against me later on. That had been my experience. And I didn’t need anyone caring for me in the first fuckin’ place. I didn’t ‘rise through the ranks’, put myself through all that just to rely on others. I had learned quickly and painfully that that was never goin’ to be an option for me. I was proud to need no one. It was fucking childish. And I can’t say I really let myself rely on anyone still or let my guard down too much, but with her at least, I got it through my fucked up head, once and for all, that not everyone was trying to screw me over. Little by little, with her, I saw the world differently, even if it felt strange and unfamiliar. She was there, and I could trust her, at least. Finally, it felt like there was someone. Someone who hadn’t given up at the first sign of my trouble.

I must’ve dozed off because suddenly I open my eyes and it’s full on afternoon, the rich light pouring through the window.

I find her sitting where she was before, against the wall, legs on mine, pen in hand.

She gives me an easy smile as I come to.

“Good nap?” she says.

“Hmm,” I turn my head this way and the other, stretching my neck. Sittin’ like this wasn’t the most comfortable position to fall asleep in.

“I picked up all the towels,” she says, pointing her pen to the floor where all those towels she’d used on me the night before had piled up.

My bloody t-shirt was there too and now I can’t see a trace of it. But she doesn’t say a word about it. She knows it was there. I know it was there. But it stays silent like a huge fucking elephant in the room.

“I put all that stuff in the wash,” she says as we avoid the t-shirt specifically.

“You didn’t have-”

“And I cleaned the breakfast dishes. Are you hungry?”

I’m always fucking hungry.

“Of course you are,” she says before I can answer. “I’ll go buy something for lunch. Anything in particular you want?”

“You don’t have-” I start again, with more intent this time.

“Are you going to tell me what you want or do you want me to choose?” she will hear none of it.

“Fine, you choose,” I concede, feeling too tired to argue for once.

She slips off my bed and I watch her go, again. But she pauses and turns in the doorway.

“Oh, your former teacher stopped by,” she says, her voice uncertain, sensing this might be something I may not like.

“Fucking old man,” I hear myself mutter.

“He seemed very concerned. I told him you were sick yesterday but that you were doing a lot better.”

Heh. I wonder what the old bastard thought of that, a woman like that openin’ the door for him in the middle of the day. What did he make of that…

“He’s always fuckin’ concerned,” I growl, unable to keep the distaste out of my voice.

“He said he’d come back another time,” she says.

“He always fuckin’ does,” my eyes roll of their own accord.

“I think he just cares about you,” she gives me a sympathetic smile and heads off.

She comes back with bowls of hot ramen from the place around the corner and up the street and it feels so good goin’ down. I feel somewhat less tired, and this helps, but I ain’t a hundred per cent yet and I’m growing fuckin’ impatient. I’m not used to bein’ down for the count like this. It makes me agitated.

I’m just getting another Coke out of the fridge when there’s a knock on the door and I know straight away.

“It’s the kid,” I say as she takes the can from me and puts it right back in the fridge, closing it shut in my face. “Make some tea. I’ll get it.”

I can hear her opening the door, Tareo’s polite greeting.

“Is Uncle home?” he asks excitedly. He is completely oblivious to any implication her being here might have. He probably thinks she’s just here to see Delilah like he is.

“He is,” I hear her say, “but he’s a bit sick.”

“Is he ok?” Tareo asks, his voice filling with worry.

“Yes, he’s fine! But he’s got a nasty cold and he wouldn’t want you catching it,” she says kindly.

And this is a lie. And I know she’s not the kind of person to lie. And I know she’s not doing it for my sake. She’s doing it for his. Because half my face is still this very pretty violet colour, she’d probably call it lavender, and I realise she doesn’t want Tareo seeing me in that state. Doesn’t want him to be scared or worried. Doesn’t want me as a bad influence.

And I don’t disagree with her.

I’m a fucking disgrace.

And for the first time, I’m not proud of it.

And I feel like the idea of ever solving this puzzle that is us slips even further from my reach.

[phantomato]

Is there a reason why you dislike Tomarry more than Tomione? And why do you seem to hate Harry so much? I'm not knocking you for it btw, I don't ship either pairing. But I'm genuinely curious.

Short answer? Because you’ve been following me for six months or less.

The long answer involves delving into my history, if you’ll bear with me. My first story up on AO3 is a Tomione. My first Nottmort is also a Tomione. Tomato, you might say, doesn’t that prove that you tolerate Tomione? You wrote two fics for the ship!

I also wrote a Tomarry this month, but I don’t recommend it as a kind treatment of Harry’s character.

I started writing because I was so angry about how the Tomione ship was usually written. I was churning through Tomione fics that consistently rubbed me the wrong way, for which I had no ability to articulate why I disliked them so and what I was actually looking to read. I would find the rare exception, cling to it as proof that I enjoyed the ship, and then drift through a dozen stories in a row that made me miserable. It was the first summer of the pandemic. We all made bad choices.

You Should Know was meant to be a “fuck you” to every trope I hated in Tomione. I wanted a romance where the pairing felt believable, goddamnit. I wanted something where Voldemort’s character wasn’t squashed in order to fit Hermione in his life. I wanted both to have agency and to talk through disagreements and for there to be no redemption!

But like: I had never engaged in transformative fandom before COVID. I had consumed it, sure, but writing my own stuff? I didn’t know anyone. I had no community, so I had no space in which to develop my thoughts. I hadn’t dug through archives of fandom meta yet. I didn’t have the language to say to myself: I dislike this ship for XYZ reasons, which are base assumptions of the ship, so I should probably move along. I didn’t know better, so I wrote a story and chronicled my thoughts. And then I wrote another Tomione story, and I kept a process journal again. I read those back today and I see a clear downward progression from “I can make this ship work for me!” to “Oh, god, I hate everything I’m doing.” Self-awareness takes a long time and a lot of exposure to other thought.

By the time I got to Tomarry, I already knew these things about myself: I like Tom/Voldemort better than other characters; I dislike special protagonists who can serve as self-inserts for the reader; I dislike romances where there is a clear ‘main character’ and a flat ‘love interest’; I define Voldemort by an uncommon set of qualities, relative to most fic; fandom-y romance tropes largely do not do it for me. Tomarry was destined to disappoint. If I had found Tomarry before Tomione, I would have stumbled through a You Should Know and Waterlogged equivalent for that ship instead. I didn’t. I was fully-prepared to dissect Tomarry when I started poking around in it.

I like Harry Potter, the protagonist of the book series I read as a child and teenager. Those were enjoyable books that hugely shaped my early life experiences, and I read along with true excitement as Harry faced new trials every year and eventually vanquished the great evil in his world. The movies aren’t my thing, but movie adaptations of books I’ve read are never my thing.

But a full decade passed between when I said goodbye to the Harry Potter universe of my childhood and when I started writing HP fanfic. They’re different entities to me. I came into this space with an interest in very different types of stories and characters than I would have preferred when I was younger. I write Voldemort, and stories about older characters pre-canon more generally, because I’m forcing my narrative interests to fit into an accessible fandom space. I know that plenty of people have grown with ships like Drarry or Snarry and tackle post-war versions of these themes with those characters, but, well, I didn’t take that path. I don’t have those years of sympathy for fanon Harry, and the vast majority of fan treatments of Harry are the opposite of what I’m here to do: I want to write about people who are tired and aging and balancing competing concerns in their lives, whose romances are familiar and fond, who muddle through with their flaws and don’t expect to change their partners, who do the drudge work of living on-screen and without much magic, who think about careers and children and maintaining a household and not at all about their childhood school years.

This can be done with Harry. People do it all the time. But it isn’t the majority of his characterizations, and I don’t like his base qualities enough to swim upstream. I like Voldemort. I think he’s relatable and fun. If I am going to bash myself against walls in any part of this fandom, it might as well be for the characters that interest me. I tried, I really tried, to make it work for Hermione, and I completely burnt myself out of that ship—so much so that if you’ve only read my slash, you wouldn’t realize how miserable that episode of my fic writing was for me because I barely talk about Tomione anymore. Tomarry is what comes up now. It’s the natural comparison to my Nottmort or my crossovers or my Tom/Orion, because they’re all slash. It’s likely where lots of my readers are coming from in order to reach niche Tom slash pairings.

We’ll see what the future holds for my writing. If enough space in the Tom world opens up to talk about his character without comparisons back to Tomarry or Tomione (or Tom/Reader), conversations like this will become a thing of the past. As long as Tom remains the secondary character in his own shipfic, I will have dissatisfied meta posts here on tumblr.

[beebubb]

I read your LJ and will headcanons and i really love them! Can you perhaps make some headcanons of when LJ had to take care of baby william? Like how would he treat him when he hated him and then when he actually grew to like him?

Ahhhhhh!!! Yessss!!! I'm gonna make this a post of LJ taking care or will from newborn to now

LJ taking care of william grossman headcanons (childhood all the way to now) + a bit of will's back story

Will as a baby

Will was assigned to LJ before will was even born

So while everyone was celebrating the pregnancy, LJ was just pissed

"GODDAMNIT THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T USE PROTECTION!!"

no one could hear or see him obviously, so he could say what ever he wanted

He just look at the dad be like "i bet that brat isn't even yours!"

He would just DREAD the day will was finally born

When will was born, and his mom finally came back home with will in her arms, was when he finally met him

".....he looks exactly like fucking isaac goddamnit!!!!"

He wouldn't take care of will and could care less about him

He would appear to will whenever he was alone in the nursery room and just say the meanest things to him or just hate anything will did

".....you're the cum shot your mom should have swallowed...."

"can you shut the fuck up?!?"

*carrying him* "go to hell you annoying waste of space"

"i wish I could take your eye out like I did to your fucking grandpa....."

"you know I can gut you whenever I feel like it"

Or just make dark jokes

"i can knock all your teeth over just like isaac! Wait, you don't have any! Hahaha!!"

LJ doesn't admit but, when he was watching over will, he just started crying, he was just so overwhelmed by everything, especially knowing he was stuck with his enemy's grandkid "i hate that i'm stuck with you!!! Why the fuck would you even want me?!? You're just going to abandon me just like your damn grandfather!!!"

With time though, he started growing fond of him

Will was really close to LJ. He would just smile to him, laugh, grab his pointy nose, and even if jack rarely carried him, you know those feathers jack has on his shoulders? Will would immediatly fall asleep with those

Once LJ was a bit more ready to care for him, was when he actually started trying

"Alright, i'm your guardian! I hate it! But if i'm stuck with you, i'm going to raise you MY way!"

"I'm the one protecting you so you BETTER say my name as your first word, got it?"

It took him a bit to warm up to him but it eventually came along

Will was a cuddly baby, so he loved to sleep on LJ's shoulder and grab his nose

"let go of my nose before I kill you"

When he was finally attached to will, he was acting more of a parent than anyone.

He would hate it if someone didn't take proper care of him

"you're holding him wrong!"

"he doesn't like to be held like that!"

"you're supposed to put 2 scoops of formula! Not 1!!"

"goddamnit I'm doing most of the work here!!!"

"if yall wanted a kid you should atleast know to care for it!"

Will's first word was JJ.

It was his attempt at saying LJ

"holy shit!!! That's not my name but it's close!! I knew it!!"

His mom and dad saw it as insignificant and thought it was just those weird baby noises that babies make

But LJ knew what he meant and was more happy than ever

"he likes me more!! In your face assholes!!"

Will as a toddler

LJ was there for his first words, so he was also there for will's first steps

Will was also a very energetic kid, and once he started crawling and walking, it was more chaos for his parents

They had to baby proof a lot of things

But LJ could keep up with his energy, and sometimes even tire him

Though there was this one time when will called him "daddy" and his dad thought he was calling him but actually, he was talking to LJ

Many think that LJ might hate to be called that sense well, you know, he hates children, but he honestly didn't know how to feel. He was a bit surprised, a bit happy, and confused

He didn't deny it, it was just like

Toddler will: daddy! Daddy!

LJ: um....uh... Lets keep playing ok?

LJ loved will and was happy to care for him and pretty much the hate he had towards him was pretty much gone but, he didn't really know how to feel

He let it slide but will called him that a lot

LJ would get a bit emotional sometimes but he would just try to ignore it and keep playing with will

Or he would just slightly smile

Will as a kid (4-11)

Will was now more aware and way more energetic

Which was more fun for LJ

Will didn't have many friends, except for LJ

Even if he was happy and energetic, will was a shy child at school.

Also he didn't play with anyone except jack

The teachers thought that will was weird and called his parents a lot

The teachers would always say stuff like "he doesn't play with any of the other children, and talks alone like if he were talking with someone else especially someone he says is called" jack", is everything OK at home? Have you seen a family psychologist?"

Will was actually taken to a few therapy sessions but he wasn't diagnosed with any mental illnesses. So people just assumed that will just had a really active imagination and that jack was just an imaginary friend

Though will being "weird" just meant he was gonna be an easy target to get bullied

But jack wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let some asshole kids ruin will's childhood

Sometimes when the kids would go to the bathroom or just go to the hallway to the drinking fountain, he would scare them by turning the lights on and off

Or he would even follow them home and would make his claw like hands appear from inside their closets or under their beds.

Sometimes he would even grab their legs which would terrify the kids

They soon stopped bothering will because "jack will come and get you!"

So will had a pretty good childhood thanks to Jack sense he would protect him of pretty much everything

When will was in kindergarden they had arts and crafts, he would sometimes draw his mom and his dad together but mostly his drawings were of jack

The teachers thought the parents were irresponsible because lets say that sometimes will's drawing were a bit graphic or creepy and they thought that it was because will watched too much horror movies

Teacher: what are you drawing, William?

Will: it's Jack and I!

Teacher: oh that's nice! But.. What.. What are you doing with Jack?

Will: We're using the stuff inside the guy's belly to make balloon animals! *keeps drawing* jack said that I'll be a killer when I grow up!

Jack was just a proud clown guardian

Jack's prized possession was a drawing that will made of the two of them. It just made him feel really appreciated. Also he encouraged will to play with the kids but will just preferred LJ

LJ: you know that you can play with the other kids right?

Will: i don't want to! I don't like the other kids! I want to be with you, you're my best friend!

It was just fun with will that someday jack would spend days laughing and laughing that sometimes it felt like he would get his colors back

Also will learned to cuss at a young age. And everyone can already guess where he got that from

He was a horror movie fan

Which is why he always said "i want to be like Jason when I grow up!"

"i want to do what leatherface does!"

"I'm going to be just like ghostface!"

But when LJ told him about the pastas, is when he started admiring them

"when I grow up, I'm going to work for slenderman!!"

Also you know in that one comic page where will was at the institution and said "i am the one and only grossman! And I will become the greatest killer the world and the underworld has ever seen!"

Well he had been saying that ever sense he was a kid

Will's mom was a really caring and nice mother but she would soon start getting angry every time will said he wanted to be a killer

Everytime the family got together or the neighbors would ask will what he wanted to be when he grew up, will's mom would always get embarrassed and try to change the answer

Neighbor: what do you want to be when you grow up?

Will: i want to be a killer!

Mom: AN ACTOR!! he wants to be an actor!! He just.. Um... Has seen so many horror movies and well he likes the actors! So he wants to be one!

Will would always get scolded by his mom or get grounded

"William, i told you a million times!!! Stop saying you want to be a killer!!! That doesn't exists! Just choose something normal!!"

William would sometimes just stand or sit in the corner and cry

LJ was always there to comfort him

"Don't cry buddy! Don't listen to that bitch! You will be a killer!"

His mom would get annoyed a lot of will talking about LJ

"You're six!!! You're old enough to know that jack is just an imaginary friend!"

"He's not imaginary!!!!"

And ever sense will knew about the underworld, that's the only place he would talk about.

Will: LJ please take me with you!! I want to go to the under realm! I want to meet jeff the killer! And ben! And masky! And slenderman!

LJ: i can't take you now but i promise i will when you're older!

Will loved his parents but he slowly started disliking them.

His mom always seemed embarrassed of him and his dad was becoming distant

The day that his parents got divorced, he did cry a few days.

He would always ask LJ "did dad leave because of me?"

But jack was there to reassure him it wasn't his fault.

"He's just a deadbeat bitch dad! But i'll be here for you! You don't need him!"

LJ pretty much took a fatherly role to will but never realised it

In will's school he had this "bring your parent to school day" thing and he didn't tell his mom, he wanted LJ to come

LJ didn't have a human disguise like the other pastas sense he was technically an imaginary friend. So he had to consult the rulers of hell to give him a temporary one or grant him that ability

LJ: Come on please! He really wants me to attend! Lend me a fucking hand here!

Paimon: i don't know, your job is just to protect him, you don't NEED to attend something as simple as a school event, he has his mother

LJ: i know but my boy wants ME to come! He doesn't want his damn mother to go!

Yeah, LJ called him "his boy"

He was more of a father than ever even if he didn't admit it

Bael: *sighs* fine, we'll give you a disguise just for today

LJ: yes! Thank you!

And LJ was able to go to will's school, he just presented himself as will's uncle

Will was happier than ever

Jack tried to act normal so he made up lies of his career

"Oh um i'm a....surgeon!"

Being a surgeon was the closest thing to his actual job. I mean, they both take out people's guts right?

Will as a teen (13-17) (basically now)

Will had a bit of an emo phase but not completely. It only appeared whenever he was with his mom

Only when he was with his mom he was distant and always seemed annoyed

He became the typical angsty teen. Started drinking, getting piercings, dying his hair, wear black, eyeliner, etc

Mom: another piercing?!

Will: yeah! Why do you care!?! I'm already an embarrassment to you aren't i?!

They would get into arguments a lot

Especially because of his sexuality

His mom didn't respect will's privacy so he would always check his texts, pictures, etc

"You're talking with girls AND boys?!?!"

Will was bisexual but only LJ knew obviously.

"If my boy likes guys then fucking let him!!! Stupid bitch!!!"

Though no matter who won the argument, it always ended with will crying or just laying on his bed listening to music

William would run away a LOT

Him and LJ had found an abandoned hospital where they would always hang out.

Will could be himself with LJ

His mood and attitude completely changed there.

They would drink beer together, tell jokes, prank random people in the streets, or just do random things

"Look at this street sign i stole!!"

But how did will finally go to the underworld? A family argument in will's 16th birthday

His mom invited everyone to the house.

But will was uninterested

And his mom like always, didn't want to "be embarrassed" by will, so he forced him to wear something else besides black, to take all of his piercings off, and didn't let him dye his hair

Everyone was there eating together

But will, like always, was distant

Uncle: so how are things in school?

Will: everything's fine

Cousin: what college are you going to?

Will: *shrugs*

Will hated his party.

LJ: enjoying your sweet 16? Haha!

Will: i hate it....

LJ frowned seeing him upset in his own birthday, but he gave him something

LJ: hey, i got you a little something! I know you want to be a killer so here!

He gave will the bird mask

Will: ! My...my first killer mask?!

LJ: yep!

Will: holy shit!!! Thank you! *puts it on* i love it!! I look like an actual serial killer!

LJ: i knew you would like it!

Will was super happy with his mask but he was called outside to cut the cake

"Cut your cake bud! Once this party is over, how about we go get some drinks?"

Will smiled "alright!"

He went out to cut his cake.

A few hours later though, everything was ruined

Will had another argument with his mom.

Will: I'M your son!!! Not them!!! Why do you like them more?!

Mom: i do like you will! I just...i just want you to be normal like them! I want you to want a normal career! To do better in school! To dress differently, and like girls!

Will: i DO like girls!!!

Mom: then why were you talking to boys?!?

Everyone just looked at will in shock

Will: b-because.....because i'm fucking bisexual!!! I like boys AND girls!! I'm not gay!!! There's a difference!!!

Mom: but you like boys!! That's not normal!! Nothing of you is normal!! Liking boys isn't normal! And being a killer isn't normal either!!

Will: oh so you hate me for being me?!?! I fucking hate you!!! You make my life a living hell!!!

Will stormed off to his room and locked himself and started sobbing.

Jack saw everything. He would have killed will's mom but everyone was there, plus he wasn't allowed to (a disadvantage of having a deal with the rulers of hell)

Will felt humiliated infront of the whole family

Jack saw how upset he was, so that's when he finally made up his mind

LJ: hey, remember when i told you i was bringing you to the underworld one day?

Will: *wiping away his tears* y-yeah?

LJ: well, that's today!

Will: wait, really?!?

Will immediately sat up his a smile on his face

LJ: yep! How about we leave this place? Let's go to to the underworld! You won't have to worry about your mom anymore! Or that shitty family of yours!

Will: yes!!!!! Yes I'd love that!!!

LJ: then pack your things and lets go!

Will got up from his bed and started packing. And once he was done, he just stood up smiling with his bags in hand

Will: let's go!!

LJ covered will's eyes with his hands.

And before Will knew it, he was in the underworld.

And that's when will finally started a new life.

LJ didn't have a luxurious life to give will but will loved it. Even if they lived in a shitty apartment, will was more happy than ever.

Will was still underage so LJ took care of getting him registered as an official underworld citizen and getting all the paper work done to have full custody of will as his guardian

So he basically adopted will

Will: i can actually be a killer here right?

LJ: yep! There's actually an institution for killers! So I'll start working on enrolling you in!

Will: yes!!!

And that's basically how their lives started

[cordonian-literature]

Forever Mine

chapter four

❦ summary — The time for Princess Riley to step into her role as queen fast approaches and finding the future king is Cordonia’s top priority. Commander Liam is aware of that, and has plans to make sure the princess ends up with someone suitable.

➺ chapter warnings: none

❦ catch up here!

➺ word count: (+/-) 1980

*all characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

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When Leo had left Cordonia, he tried to leave all traces of his royal life behind as well. He bought a new wardrobe, everything from socks to sunglasses, leaving all of his suits in his chambers. Leo had bought a new phone and the only contacts were Riley, Bastien, Liam, and Drake. His father called him often, but he never saved the number.

And during the time he was gone, he avoided Cordonian news, too, wanting to remove himself and his mind from the nonsense that his father caused in European politics, or the lies that reporters felt they were free to tell.

So when he sees pictures of Riley and the King at the Regatta — Constantine smiling through a frown because of the sun while Riley’s grin made the photo seem brighter — he clicks on the article to read it, proud of his little sister and how she was handling the situation she was pushed into.

But Leo’s blood boiled the further he read. He wondered how these reporters had dared to write something like that about the princess when she had done nothing wrong. There were two paragraphs dedicated to praising Constantine for his declaration of war “for the protection of the Cordonian people, young and old, rich and poor”  but Leo remembered that even Commander Liam had said it wasn’t a good idea.

Leo stops reading halfway through, on the verge of throwing his phone against the wall. He sends the link of the article to Drake and receives a phone call less than five seconds later.

“Just got done reading the same article,” says Drake when Leo answers the call. His voice, usually unbothered and calm, was now hinted with irritation and anger, just as Leo felt.

“I can’t imagine the effect this has on her,” Leo responds, beginning to pace the room. “I mean, you were there during the Derby, right? I mean, I didn’t mention it to her but did you see how panicked she gets around reporters? Goddamnit…” he runs his hands through his hair then walks to the mirror to fix it. “I can’t be the only one who notices that she looks away every time cameras come near her. She’s done that since she was a kid but—”

Leo stops talking when he hears the click of the end of the phone call and turns to see Drake enter the room.

Both men sigh and fall into a pit of silent anger, neither saying a word of what they were feeling. Leo saw the heat behind Drake’s eyes, and almost laughed to himself when Drake’s jaw clenched.

More out of curiosity and wanting to see just how Drake felt about Riley — but also feeling the brotherly need to see how she was doing — Leo suggests going to check on her.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Drake says, quickly standing from his seat and going to the door.  

The men emerge from the room and walk down the hallway, taking a moment to adjust to the lack of light. When the walls are finally somewhat visible, Drake nudges Leo and jerks his chin forward: someone is walking ahead of them in the same direction.

A broad set of shoulders, tall build, blond hair, and military uniform: Leo instantly knows that it’s Liam. Drake looks at Leo for what they should do, but Leo simply shrugs, wanting to see where the man was going, hoping that he’d walk in another direction.

But three turns and a flight of stairs up later, they’re still walking in the same direction. The King’s Chambers were a long way off, causing Leo to wonder where Liam’s destination is. They’re currently in the hall where all the guests stay. A few more turns down would be Riley’s room, but before that is the library.

When Liam turns the corner and goes momentarily out of view, another set of footsteps can be heard from behind them. Drake gently pushes Leo towards the wall so that whoever it was couldn’t see them.

The person stops right next to them, and Drake nudges Leo to get behind a statue of his great-grandfather. Neither of them can tell who the person is, but both men’s hearts pound when the person knocks on the door.

“Who is bothering me this late at night?” an arrogant voice vibrates through the closed door, and Leo recognizes it as Neville’s.

He opens the door and light pools into the hallway, almost giving away Leo and Drake’s hiding spot, but they shift so that they are still in the shadows.

“Who are you?” Neville’s tone has an edge to it.

“Zoe Zacharias, at your service,” says a feminine voice. The name sounds familiar, but Leo isn’t sure he knows them. “I have been given a letter to delie—”

The sound of paper being snatched echos off the statue. “Who is it from?” Neville interrogates.

“That is not something I am allowed to disclose.”

Leo and Drake glance at each other, features not visible but their eyes are alight with confusion and curiosity.

Neville rips open the letter and unfolds it, holding it out in front of him to read. “Let’s see… hm… your participation in the Season is inappropriate, ha!” Neville raises his voice and laughs. “What nonsense is this?” He continues to read: “Years ago… partnership with Mister Golzine… association with his club and company… has been…” his voice lowers to below a whisper, and Leo can see Neville’s eyes widen with panic, “connected to… disappearance of twenty ad—”

Before finishing the sentence, Neville rips the paper and throws the remains at Zoe Zacharias’ face.

“You can rip the letter,” she says, shoving pieces of paper off her shoulder, “but you can’t get rid of the evidence. We’ve found videos and bank statements that all connect back to you. If this were to be leaked to the public, or to His Majesty, you would be—”

“Shut your mouth!” Neville gasps in an intense whisper. “Don’t! I don’t want to hear it! I’ve… I… It can’t be traced back to me! All I did was… I didn’t play a part in anything! This has nothing to do with the Social Season!”

“But it does,” the woman interjects, her face and posture still calm and collected; she had the high ground now, and Leo wanted to laugh at how the arrogance had melted off of Neville’s face, but he was too afraid to breathe. “If you need more proof, I can show it to you tomorrow along with His Majesty. The King would never allow such a scandal to disgrace the royal family or Cordonia.”

Through the light that the room provides, Leo can see that Neville has started sweating.

“All right!” Neville gasps. “What do you want? What do I have to give you to make you and your partners keep your mouths shut?”

Without hesitance, she states, “Your resignation as a suitor.”

Leo and Drake’s eyes go wide.

Neville takes deep breaths, visibly weighing the possibilities. Leo had hoped he would read the whole letter aloud. What exactly had Neville gotten caught up in? He didn’t want to know the details, but Leo imagined that there must have been something in the letter that could have unveiled the writer.

“Fine,” Neville finally utters. “I will leave in the morning.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Zoe says. “No Cordonian shall hear of this, and we will make this information disappear.”

“Thank… you,” Neville breathes, the anguish and confusion still glossing his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“I understand, you probably have much to do before morning,” Zoe nods her head and smiles.

“Yes,” Neville stutters and closes the door, throwing the halls of the palace back into a pit of darkness.

Zoe’s footsteps can be heard retreating in the direction they all came from. Once she’s out of hearing range, Drake and Leo continue walking towards Riley’s room, the unease heavy between them.

They reach her room and knock on the door, but there’s no answer from the other side, and it seems like the lights are off, too. Drake checks the time to see that it’s a few minutes after midnight.

Not wanting to stand in the hallway for too long, Leo says, “We can check on her before breakfast, let’s go back.”

On their walk, they remain silent, eyes and ears alert in the case that there was someone else awake. When they’re back in Leo’s room and the doors are shut, their shoulders relax and they let out a sigh.

“Do you know who Zoe Zacharias is?” Leo asks.

“I think she’s a part of the King’s Guard,” Drake answers. “I haven’t seen or heard of her in a while though, I’m not sure.”

“She’s worked with Bastien?”

Drake shrugs, “I was introduced to her a few months back, and that’s what she said she was.”

Leo nods, beginning to pace again. She said she was a part of the King’s Guard, but had never worked with Bastien? There was no doubt she worked with the government, seeing that she had so much information on Neville.

“The only person who would have had the power or influence to do this is someone close to the king,” Leo states, unsure.

“It doesn’t make much sense. How do you know?” Drake asks.

Leo takes a moment to think, not having a solid answer to Drake’s question.

“Clearly,” Drake continues, “whoever sent that letter probably wanted to get rid of some competition.”

“Who would have wanted to do that?” Leo asks, feeling the pieces come together.

“It could have been Constantine,” Drake says. Leo’s father was easy to blame; the man wasn’t always diplomatic, and there was a high chance that such a corrupt man would try to shift the results of the season.

“Or,” Leo suggests, “it could have been Alexander.” Drake nods in agreement. “I imagine he has enough influence to get that information, and using it to get closer to Riley makes sense, too.”

“You’re right,” Drake says, even though neither man was confident.

The room falls into silence again, Leo and Drake’s minds racing for a better explanation with the lack of knowledge. If someone had wanted to get rid of Neville, why do it privately? Why not go to the King and have Constantine release this information?  

“It’s late,” Drake says, patting Leo’s shoulder and pulling him away from his train of thought. “Get some sleep. We’ll have to keep an eye on Prince Alexander and Constantine. Maybe talk to Olivia and get her to help out.”

“Olivia?” Leo looks up at his friend and smirks. “Why Olivia?”

Drake frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that? I just mean that she’s good at this stuff.”

“Yeah, but there’s a whole bunch of other people we could ask.”

Drake rolls his eyes.

“We could ask Liam,” Leo begins to list jokingly. “Bastien, or even Miss Zoe Zacharias. Better yet, we could even catch Neville before he leaves in the morning and make him tell us everything.”

“I don’t want to ask Liam,” Drake says quickly, causing Leo’s eyebrows to jump up.

“Woah, man, I just suggested it, no need to get defensive.”

Drake sighs, and Leo throws his arm around Drake.

“Do you have something against Liam or is it…” he gives Drake a knowing look.

“No,” he says curtly.

Leo holds up his hands and walks back to his bed. “I was just asking,” he says, trying his best not to laugh.

Drake turns and opens the door, “I’ll see you in the morning, we can tell Riley what happened.”

“Sure,” Leo says as the door closes, though he makes a mental note to remember not to tell her. There was no reason to stress her out more. The less she knew about someone manipulating her decision, the better.

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a/n: sorry for not posting. lol i know i say this every time but life really do be getting in the way 😫i’m counting down the seconds until school ends so i can finally have some free time. anyway i know this is short but i hope yall enjoyed it!!

@twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kingliam2019  @queenrileyrose @royalromancer @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @parkdoesthings @claireloutoo

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 20 - ChenQing Syndrome & Tangents everywhere

Hello cupcakes, and welcome to episode 20. How’s everyone doing? I hope y’all are as safe and can be. I’m pretty sure I need to sleep for at least 24h because I am exhausted so forgive me if I’m suuuuuper low energy.

On another news I am officially mosquito bait. Yay.

I don’t know if I said so in the previous commentary but I Do Not Vibe with eyeballs so yeah.

Speaking of eyeballs, here is what happened the last time my mum and me consumed a medical drama in public. We decided to go to the cinema to watch The Physician, and in the intro credits there is a tray with a pair of eyeballs by a scalpel and my mum, who’s a GP goes (without lowering her voice of course):

“Those are not human eyeballs, too big, they’re probably cow’s”

I swear the whole row just turned around to give us A Look and I haven’t felt more like a serial killer since I started giggling (again in the cinema) watching Death Proof. So there you have it, I lose my shit when tv doctors do bad medicine and she makes ominous comments that make me want to explain to everyone that no, we don’t dismember people for fun.

Listen, necromancy is whatever, but “Imperio-Ing” people into harming themselves and making them hallucinate by playing the flute is what would freak me the fuck out about WWX ngl. I mean, I know he’s a good egg, but he’s Havana Syndrome-ing this bitch and that gives me chills.

Oh I love this shot of one WWX’s eyes cast in light. Cinematography on point as always.

Ok ok ok I am going to go on a terrible tangent in here. I know that in the book shit was even worse, with the cannibalism and JiaoJiao shoving a whole chair leg down her throat but there’s something that’s always caught my attention. If I’m not mistaken she bit off WC’s dick. Now call it a coincidence that WWX took advantage of, but, because I’m The Worst ™️ it made me think. If I’ve learnt something about Criminal Minds is that you don’t go after someone’s bits unless:

a) you’re a sexual sadist and can’t get off any other way (which WWX is not nor is he killing for sexual gratification)

b) those bits have gone near you when you didn’t want them to and it is revenge.

I mean, same way I didn’t want to make you wonder what WWX ate trapped in a mass grave for three months I don’t want to make you think about this but I need to get if off my chest.

Oh hey, now that I think about it the cannibalism could also be personal because again, they yeeted him into a palace full of corpses where “nothing grows”. God I hate my own brain sometimes.

Did these two just walk up to the front door of the Supervisory Office? I mean, the guards are all dead so it is fine, but that’s one shit strategy.

... that’s one ineffective way of tying a hangman’s noose.

JC IS BEING SOFT WITH WQ OMG!

YOU ARE BREAKING MY HEART. STOP. (Watch me go read ChengQing fics after this is done)

JC: is there anyone more wicked that the Wen Clan?

Me: *takes a deep breath* how much time do you have?

Gotta give it to WWX, the boy knows how to set the mood.

Yup yup I’m cackling.

Go my creepy necromancer son!

(Once again, I cheer when someone gets shanked)

(Once again, assume I’m screaming about the cinematography)

Bless LWJ’s brain cell, I remember when I first watched this being super worried about these two also getting ChenQing Syndrome.

So is the Red Woman an actual entity or is she an anthropomorphization of what he’s doing to them? Am I assigning too much Poe to this scene?

JC and LWJ straight up jumped through the ceiling to save WWX I love them. (But think, if they’ve been slightly slower and WZL had realised there wasn’t a core to melt, oh the delicious delicious canon divergences we could have)

Now that’s an effective noose.

THAT HUG WAS TOO SHORT! AND WWX WAS GOING TO RECIPROCATE BUT JC STOPED NOOOOOO. (Again JC looks like he gives the best hugs)

Misdirecting WWX is misdirecting.

Aaaaaand you can see the PTSD start to rear its ugly heard the second they want to know where he was the last three months.

WWX: *starts spinning bullshit*

JC: *relaxes his frown and eyerolls*

Aw bb he was really worried. I mean, it is still misdirection but I can see how JC inexperienced as he is with trauma (and dealing with his own) could interpret that as his baby brother just being himself.

Aw they’re falling back into being their soft yet prickly selves I die.

Nope LWJ! I know that you’re worried and shit but the last thing you want to do to someone with WWX’s trauma is trigger their fight or flight response by asking questions and making them sound like accusations.

(Also, interlude to say, WWX seems super reluctant to admit he fucked with the talismans, which fair enough, I’m thinking his trauma conga line is probably making him think he’ll get in trouble if he admits it or they’ll start distrusting him. But really looks like simple curiosity to me)

I’m just gonna scream incoherently at my screen because they are doing it fucking wrong.

Me with other fandoms: KISS GODDAMNIT

Me with this one: COMMUNICATE

DRAG HIM (ok GusuLan) WWX. I know LWJ only wants to make sure WWX is safe and healthy and loved but listen, he doesn’t have the full picture, he is still somewhat naive about you know, the amount his idols can disappoint him. Yes, it is exacerbated by WWX raising his hackles and his overall paranoia but; GusuLan is where the Sect Leader and the second in command (I know Netflix calls LQR “grandmaster” but I also know the translation is incorrect) decided that lashing their own family was an appropriate corrective. I’m not even going to go into the genocide victims or the reasons for the punishment but yeah, lashing. It hasn’t happened yet, but the potential is there, and as much of a self-sacrificing idiot as WWX is he must have some survival instincts if he lived in the streets for years, I’m not saying they don’t get negated when someone he loves is in danger, but you know, they have to be there. I think his brain has been *Kill Bill sirens* about GusuLan for a long time and now the guy who lives and breathes by their rules wants him to go back? Yeah I absolutely think it is valid that he thought the “help” he was gonna get would be horrifying punishment to “put him in the right path”. Do I see a fuck ton of parallels btw GusuLan and abusive Bible-thumping religious fanatical groups? Ok yeah, my b probably, but I Can’t Unsee.

And again, I know LWJ just wants to keep him safe and I know he’s an awkward potato but this one is on him. WWX is in no emotional place to play “guess WangJi” and it might make his soul shrivel up and die inside but a Long Conversation should be had.

Ok, allow me to go on another fucking tangent, there aren’t enough already. I’ve seen posts saying that western people misinterpret LWJ’s short and blunt speech (is short speech something you say in English?) as him being awkward/clamming up/not liking to talk when it actually is considered a very elegant thing to be able to get your point across with as few words as possible, because our culture values eloquence. First of all, I’ve seen that point made with the English language, and I’m Spanish, I don’t know if it affects my point of view but we also have the same idea of getting to the point ASAP here, it isn’t like the height of elegance but it is very common. That’s not my reasoning to say LWJ is an introverted/awkward potato, although it influences it. Because I’ve seen the show a few times, and because YiBo is the patron saint of micro-expressions, I’ve caught several instances in which, after pleasantries are done, a stranger tries to talk to LWJ and he get the tiniest “oh shit people want to have a conversation someone save me” look on his face. The most notable one is when YunmengJiang is trying to get into Cloud Recesses.

Just because someone can be a good conversationalist doesn’t mean they actually like to talk to people or be around them.

Bless JC to the rescue.

Btw regardless of me going off about LWJ’s lack of communication it doesn’t mean I’m not side eyeing WWX for unleashing on people who are not at fault for his trauma.

LET MY YUNMENG SIBS BE HAPPY GODDAMNIT

So that’s all for this episode. I’m so sorry for my tangents, I can’t contain myself. Thanks for reading!

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Not your fault part two

A/N: this is technically a part two but you def don’t need to read the first one to read this one! The only thing you need to know is that Emily is the adoptive daughter of Stan, Bill and Richie and that’s it. I you want to see any type of other request just send them in! 

Summary: Stan, Bill and Richie return to Derry along side their daughter. Pennywise kidnaps her.  

‘Emily please come back here.’ Stan pleaded, his voice rough as the tears continued to stream down his face like waterfalls. His hand reached out toward his daughter, who doesn’t even so much as glance towards him. ‘Emily’, Stan tries again desperately, his heart is beating in his chest so hard he can hear it, the blood still seeping down his face where he got hit, yet there is still no reaction. A door jingles left of them, it’s Bill and Richie, Stan guesses, but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes of her, afraid that she might disappear if he does so. ‘Stan, Emily open this fucking door’, Richie cries out breathlessly, the pounding on the door getting more insistent with the second. Stan stand up shakily, he has to press his hand against the wall to stay upright, and he takes a hesitant step forward.

As his hand leaves the wall a bloody handprint is left in its place, seemingly taunting Bill, who just manages to glance into the room enough to the handprint. Instantly Bill feels the panic consume him. He can’t see Stan, but he did hear him call out to their daughter, so at least he’s still breathing. Emily however is not responding to any of Stan calls, nor to Richie’s or Bill’s. ‘Stan, Stan, p-p-please talk to us. W-w-what’s happening?’ The stutter makes Bill pause for a second, shocked that for the first time in 20 years, he can’t pronounce his words without stuttering anymore. It’s an indication of the absolute terror consuming his body, but he does his best to suppress it, and after a brief pause, his slamming on the door intensified. The door almost seems to give way to his shoulder slams, and Richie lets out a brief cry, filled with relief, but then the door slams shut once again. ‘Guys, guys fuck please we need help, please help us’, Richie calls out to their friends, but the truth is that neither Stan nor Bill nor Richie has seen their friends since they ran out of the hotel to find Emily. Richie cries out against all hope, because he knows there is no one here to help them.

Stan takes another slow step towards Emily, placing his hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking her. He knows what he’ll see, because Emily has never ever ignored him without reason. Expecting something, and it actually happening however, are two completely different things. When Stan moves in front of her, a sob leaves his lips before he can even think to keep it in. It makes Bill and Richie try even harder to open the door, but still the door stubbornly refuses to open.

 Emily’s eyes are wide open, but her irises is completely gone, the forest green disappeared and in its wake is nothing left but white. The expression on her face is one of purse terror. Her mount is dropped open, her eyes unabashed staring forward towards one spot and her body rigid. Stan has only once seen this look on someone’s face, 27 years ago, when it was on Beverly’s. Hesitantly he places his hand against her cheek, pulling away quickly when he notices how cold she really is, before firmly placing his hand at the same spot again, stroking it lovingly.

The tears that had briefly stopped, start back up and this time Stan calls out to Bill and Richie, finally acknowledging their presence. ‘Richie, Bill. I.. IT,’ Stan finally whimpers out, ‘IT has her’.

His words seem to break whatever spell the door was under, as finally the door breaks down. Bill and Richie rush in, but both stop once they see Stan’s face and the body of their daughter standing there as stiff as a board. She’s not levitating, like Bev was, but it seems as that was only done to trick the three boys, to make them think she might be okay, and then rip away that hope.

Stan is sobbing and Bill, ever the leader, takes it upon himself to pull his head towards his chest, to be the rock that hold Stan and Richie together. Stan never lets himself cry in front of people, the fact that he now drops down on his knees, into the disgusting floor of the house on Neibolt street, while he presses his face against Bill’s stomach, is proof that he is completely broken down and wrecked.

Bill is squeezing his eyes shut, like he can’t look at Emily because he knows he will break down if he does. Richie does look at her and the tears well up in his own eyes, but he pushes them back, crying won’t save his daughter. He presses his lips to her forehead gently before turning towards Stan and Bill, grabbing both of their hands.

‘We need the save her, we saved Beverly when we were fucking 13, so now we can definitely save our daughter as 40 year old goddamnit’. His voice cracks as he says it, but he stubbornly refuses to give up.

Bill is already starting to nod his head, ‘rich is right, we can save her, we just need to find IT’. He breaths

Stan looks up from where he was buried in Bill’s stomach, the tears still flowing down his cheeks. ‘What if we can’t? What if we lost her forever?’

‘We haven’t, nothing, not even a m-m-motherfucking clown can keep us from our daughter, let go save her’. Bill whispers as he presses his forehead against Stan’s, while Richie wraps his arms around the both of them. The three of them taking comfort in each other for a second, before standing up with determination. As Stan lifts his head a bloodspot appears on the spot where his head was previously, and Richie shudders. He can still hear the crack from Stan’s head hitting the stairs at pennywise dragged him down the stairs, and into the room where they were currently at.

They had been stupid, they should have waited for their friends to catch up. Instead they were so overcome with worry that as soon as they opened the fortune cookies and matched the sentence, they couldn’t get into Neibolt fast enough. Hope you said goodbye to Emily, because I’m going to kill her, the sentence had said. Bill blames himself, he was the one that suggested them leaving Emily alone in the hotelroom, because he had an uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t want his daughter anywhere near the town. Turns out, Emily should have come with them to the Chinese restaurant. She was left all alone, defenseless and an easy target for IT to take her. Bill shakes his head to clear his thoughts. His daughter needs him now, he can’t waste any time.

‘Pennywise, where the hell are you?’ Bill bellowed. He didn’t have a clue what else to do, how else to save his daughter. Stan’s head snapped in his direction. ‘Stop, Bill, what are you doing’? he hissed, moving his hand to covers Bill mouth. Richie stopped him, all while shaking his head. ‘Let him come, How else or we supposed to help Emily’? He asked.

Stan’s entire body was shaking, and for a second he was worried he would pass out. Then he looked at Emily, and a protective feeling washed over him. He wasn’t going to let some clown take away his family.  ‘Hey asshole, where are you?’ his voice didn’t shake as much as Stan had expected, and he prided himself for it dearly.

A painting, located at the far end of the wall their backs were facing, fell down, moment distracting them for a fleeting moment. As they faced away from the teenage girl, IT appeared behind her. The clown grinned, a wide, disturbing smirk that seemed to portray his horrifying pleasure in torturing his victims, waiting for a few moments before Richie turned back around with a whisk. Richie gasped, immediately reaching out for Bill’s arm. Bill and Stan both turned around, and for a split second nobody moved. Then Pennywise began to cackle closing his hand around Emily’s neck, not quite squeezing yet, but putting enough pressure that the three men reached forward without thinking.

Pennywise stepped backwards, dragging a limp Emily with him. ‘No’, Richie called out straight away, ‘please stop, don’t hurt her,’ He begged. He wanted this fucking clown dead, but if him begging on his knees is what would get his daughter back, then he wouldn’t hesitate.

‘Oh, oh, oh now why would I do that? We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right songbird’? Pennywise smirked once again, moving Emily’s head up and down, as if she was just agreeing.

Stan tensed, the nickname being the one he gave Emily, the one he always called her. He had no idea how IT knew all of these things, but one thing was for sure, Stan didn’t want his little girl here any longer than he had too.

IT brushed the hair out of her face, taunting the three losers standing before him. Bill clenched his fist together tightly, fighting against every fiber in his body to reach forward, he knew that he couldn’t make any sudden movements, Emily’s life depended on it.

‘You have us, we’re here, you can let her go now. You have us to feed on, you can take revenge on us, just please let her go’, bill spoke with brittle voice. It seemed like his words had to opposite effect, as instead of letting her go, Pennywise tightened his hand around her throat, going as for as to draw blood.

Stan let out an angry cry, ‘let her go’. Pennywise just shook his hand giggling as he did so.

‘she begged so nicely, clearly she didn’t learn that from her parents. She kept asking me to let her go home, to her papa and dad and pops, but you didn’t show up’.

‘You motherfucker, I’m going to fucking kill you’, Richie screeched, but Stan and Bill could hear how effected he was by IT’s words. All of them were.

‘please just, take us. That’s what you wanted right? To get us here so you could kill us? Well we’re here now, so come on, go ahead and kill us.’ Stan spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion. It was the sound that Stan often made before shutting down, or having an anxiety attack.

‘No, I think I might be a bit hungry’, Pennywise let out with a grating laugh, before opening his mount, showing his row of teeth, and without any second of doubt, he bit a piece of Emily’s neck of.

A guttural scream raced through the room, neither of the lovers knowing which one of them made the sound. Emily’s body dropped down on the floor, her eyes returning to normal, but that just made it worse. The blood was dripping from her neck where a huge gaping wound was staring at the three, her eyes staring lifeless into the eyes of her pops, her limbs a in heap on the floor.

Pennywise disappeared as fast as he had appeared, leaving Stan, Bill and Richie to their grief. Richie leaped forward, as if trying to catch her before she fell to the floor, even though she already landed there. He pulled her into his chest, weeping like he had never done before, not even when Henry Bowers had outed him in front of the whole school, or even when his mother had died. His hands tried to cover her wound, but it was to big and the blood kept pouring out like a faucet was turned on.

Stan had tears in his eyes he was desperately trying to blink away, the knowledge of his songbird being dead not registering in his muddled brain. ‘She’s fine, Rich, stop crying she’s fine’. Stan’s voice gets hysterical, his pitch getting louder and louder. He looks to Bill, big strong Bill, their leader, who will surely have the answer to fix this mess.

Bill however, is sobbing. He screams out and Stan can see the moment his knees are too unstable to keep him up, so he falls down. He sinks to his knees, ‘not again, not again’, he moans out over and over, until even that becomes too much. He places his hand on the floor and places his forehead on the floor, and his mouth open in a silent scream. Stan reaches his hands in Bill’s hair, trying to force his head up from the floor. Stan is still not crying, but inside, it feel life his heart is just ripped out.

Richie shuffles closer, still with Emily in his lap, he’s kissing her forehead over and over again, as If somehow that’s gonna make her come back. Stan reaches out with his other hand and tries to pry Richie's hand away from Emily’s wound, but Richie is not budging, Stan lets his hand rest over his hand anyway.

‘Dad, pops, papa, where the hell are you guys’? A delicate voice calls out. The voice sound sa bit scared, as if the person doesn’t what she’s doing here. Stan, Bill and Richie’s head jump up at the sound. The voice sounds like their daughter, but their daughter is right here, bleeding out as the life has been sucked from her.

Beverly, Ben, Eddie and Mike run in the room their eyes wide and searching, their breathing slowing own just a tat when they see that Bill, Stan and Richie physically alright. Right after they run in, Emily comes running in, her chest slightly heaving. Stan lets out a sob, he doesn’t realize what he’s seeing, just a moment ago he saw Pennywise kill her, but now she’s standing right there, clearly alive. Richie glances back to his arms, but where moments ago Emily’s corpse was lying, there’s nothing. The blood on his hand from her neck wound is not there anymore, and Richie finally pieces the story together. ‘Motherfucker’, he whispers out angrily, pounding his fist on the floor one time, as if to make sure that seeing his daughter alive is reality. His fist stings, but Richie has never felt such a grateful feeling before.

Bill is the first one to move, he jumps up, his arms circling around his daughters small frame, burying his face in her hair. He’s still sobbing, but he ant find any part in him that cares, for he has never been this grateful for something is his life. Stan stands up next, wrapping his arms around both Bill and Emily, placing his hand in her hair to press her even closer to them, and finally Richie moves aswell, standing behind her, his body towering over her as if he can protect her from all the bad in the world with that one movement.

‘oh sweetheart, oh you have no idea how happy we are to see you.’

The other losers look at them in slight distress. They have no idea what the hell happened, but they know that whatever it was, it was truly bad.

‘How, how are you okay? Where were you?’ Stan asks breathlessly while he checks Emily over to make sure she isn’t injured.

‘I thought it was weird that Pennywise would go after Emily right away, she wasn’t scared at all because she didn’t know what was happening, so me and Ben went to the hotel room to make sure she wasn’t just there’. Mike says with a small smile, feeling extremely happy that everyone is fine

‘She was’, Ben added with a small smile.

Stan lets out a deep breath before pressing his lips against Emily’s hair, internally grateful for how she leans into him a little bit.

‘Let’s get her the hell out of this fucking town’, Bill whispers before pulling away slightly, still keeping Emily at arm’s length.

‘Yeah, let’s not traumatize her with showing her the places we fucked when we were teenagers,’ Richie laughs wetly, while wiping away the remaining tears on his face.

‘Dad, gross, I did not want to know that’, Emily cried out, burring her face into her own hands. She’s smiling though, and she keeps smiling until she falls asleep in the car on the way out of Derry, feeling safe in the presence off her fathers.

[fandom-necromancer]

162. Here, take this.

Just as a note, this one is a bit longer because my initial idea ‘Hey, would be funny for Nines to gift Gavin a pebble’ kinda took off a bit.

Fandoms: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

part2   part3

Nines had learned a lot in the little time he had been active. If he had to boil it down, he could reduce it to three things. One: humans were confusing and so much more complex. Two: Him not having a social module made it unbelievably difficult to work with them. Three: His working relationship with Detective Gavin Reed depended solely on the fact that an RK800 unit – Connor – considered him a brother and had knocked out the human immediately after every fight they had.

It was a relief to have the Detective behaving in his presence now, although Nines had wished the reason to be himself, not the looming threat that was Connor. But that would need time. Experience and learning. Cyberlife never finished him. His hardware was completed, yes. But a lot of the software-tweaks they wanted to implement had simply been forgotten over the revolution. Most could be overlooked but the lack of social skills was a severe hindrance.

Sarcasm, humour, body-language or just a slightly different tone that altered the meaning of a sentence completely – all that were concepts he knew. He had done the research and memorised it in all the empty space where the program should have been, but recognising it in real life situations? An impossible task for him.

‘Phck, shit, goddamnit! Why are you phcking doing this to me?’ RK900 looked up and over his desktop to Gavin quickly analysing the situation. No eye-contact. Looking at the screen with wrinkled face. Tone harsh. Nines concluded it wasn’t directed at him pretty quickly, but what was this emotion? Anger? Incomprehension? Despair? Could be anything. ‘I detected you are in some way irritated. Can I help?’ Gavin flinched and looked up to him. ‘What? No. The damn computer just asked for a password and I mistyped it. Now I’m blocked for the next five minutes.’ ‘I have to remind you, your Computer isn’t in any way sentient and you speaking to it won’t achieve anything.’ ‘I know, tin-can! But sometimes you have to let your frustration out and yell at a machine. I mean, look at you! You also seem not to be sentient enough to understand me and yet I phcking talk to you! I need a damn coffee!’ The human jumped from his chair letting it scoot a bit backwards. Nines remained seated and started analysing the last conversation. Had he done something wrong? Had something he said angered the Detective? Had there been another social cue he had overseen, something subtle he should have picked up? He was still deeply in thought as Connor came over. ‘Has he done something?’ Nines studied the other android and somehow it was easier to read him than humans. There was this evident worried protectiveness together with disdain for the Detective. ‘I don’t know. He stated to be “frustrated”.’ ‘With you? You know I can talk with him anytime, just say the word.’ ‘No. RK8- brother – your “talks” tend to end in physical violence. I think it would be detrimental to the efforts I put into understanding the human. He seemed frustrated of his Computer.’ ‘Fine.’ Connor locked eyes with Gavin coming back from the breakroom and as soon as the man realised his presence there was resistance in coming nearer. The cause of it stayed illusive to Nines, although Gavin returned to his desk as soon as Connor had departed. ‘Jesus, your brother is terrifying.’ ‘Jesus didn’t have a brother.’ ‘What the… Nines, I meant your brother. Connor.’ ‘I wouldn’t call him threatening. He is easily agitated when it comes to the people, he calls family.’ ‘Whatever. Just please don’t tell him to beat me up again, okay? I learned my lesson, I’m trying to be nice to you, although you are weird as phck.’ Nines took a while to try find out the meaning of weird as a fuck. In the end he agreed on the basic expression of him being weird and the rest of the sentence due to the Detective’s very unique use of expletives. ‘I never told him to do that. I don’t even understand why he tends to do it. I don’t wish any of my surroundings harm.’ ‘Well, you are not very good at it. I’m gonna go home. See ya tomorrow.’ Nines nodded but didn’t answer, not knowing one was required.

The night shift arrived, and Nines was still working. Connor and Lieutenant Anderson had gone shortly after Gavin and Connor once again offered him to come with them. But he had declined as always. There was no use going somewhere when there was work to do. Although, around midnight he found himself distracted more and more. The conversations of the day replayed in his mind over and over again, analysing every second of them, learning from it and trying to figure out what he did wrong again this time. He managed to dismiss most of his thoughts for later but wasn’t able to let go of the Detective explaining he was frustrated. Frustration. The feeling of being upset or annoyed as a result of being unable to change or achieve something. A kind of mental pain humans experienced. Maybe if he could help the Detective, they would warm up to each other. But what could he do when he had to research what frustration was, what it felt like? Frustration could be caused by stress, but also from various other sources, there was no way Nines could find out what it was exactly that put off his partner. All he knew was that Gavin wasn’t happy. How to make your partner happy? There were quite some results to the search. He hadn’t expected there to be so much advice when clearly little jobs had people partnering up. Compliment him. Well, Gavin was intelligent. He was on the upper scale of human attractiveness according to online-tests and really stubborn. But he wouldn’t know how to say any of that without getting misunderstood. Tell him you appreciate what he does for you and your family. Again, not the best thing, when all Gavin had done for his “family” to hold Connor at gunpoint repeatedly. Make time for things to get hot in the bedroom. That just left Nines clueless. Sure, he could hack the Detective’s smart home and manipulate the thermostat, but wouldn’t the human know best what to do with it? Be supportive of his alone time. At least that he already was, following his orders when he told him to fuck off. Look him in the eyes. Manageable. When you get something for yourself, get something for him, too. So a gift, then. Difficult but also in the realm of possibility.

He decided to take the next day off. There hadn’t been new cases lately, so his new mission was far more interesting and rewarding. Learn how to compliment. Acquire a gift. He figured the mall would be as good of a place as any to start and so he strolled through shops filled to the brink with humans and androids, trying to find something in the overwhelming heap of goods. Somehow he ended up in a small shop for minerals and simple jewellery. He hadn’t made the decision consciously and realised he had only entered because it was empty and somehow… tranquil. The android wandered through the aisles of sparkling crystals and polished stones beginning to think he was going to fail his mission.

‘Hello. Do you need help?’ Nines nearly forgot he wasn’t alone. He was about to decline but maybe the human could actually help him. ‘I’m looking for a gift for a friend of mine. He is a human and stated to be frustrated. I thought a gift would help.’ ‘Ah, so is your friend interested in minerals?’ ‘I… I don’t know if he sees any value in these stones.’ Nines quickly did some research about the public opinion on them realising what he said had the potential to hurt the shopkeeper. ‘But I heard humans enjoy… shiny things.’ The human huffed at that and nodded. ‘Most do. Is your friend someone who wears pendants or rings?’ Nines didn’t even have to check to answer that. ‘No. He has a keychain, but that’s as far as it gets.’ ‘Okay, so more of an ornamental object. Do they have a favourite colour?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘What about eye-colour?’ Nines frowned. ‘How is that important?’ ‘Well, it’s something few people realise unless they spend time with each other. So, it is a proof you remembered it, a sign of affection. Some people tend to say the eyes are a gateway to your soul.’ ‘I don’t have a soul.’ ‘Well, humans aren’t really sure they have one either. It’s more of a saying, symbolism.’ ‘Do humans compliment on each other’s eyes if they mean so much?’ ‘Oh, yes. Most do. So what is his colour?’ ‘Green bordering to grey. It kind of depends on lightning and how much he slept.’ ‘Okay, I have some green ones.’ He led Nines to a shelf full of little stones, all of them varying tones of green and blue. Although Nines had no real grasp at aesthetics one caught his special interest. It was small, not bigger than a pebble, but it looked like ocean waves crashing against a cliff, turning in on each other and creating a pattern of delicate complexity. Somehow it seemed fitting – a storm caught in a moment. ‘That’s an apatite. But not the best of quality. See those enclosures? Normally they are thin and not as prominent. We have better ones over here if you like.’ ‘No, I think I’ll take this one.’

The next day he was back at work, the stone in his pocket. Gavin hadn’t asked why he hadn’t been at work yesterday. Both simply worked on their cases and reports, close to ignoring the other. Until Gavin announced he was going for a coffee break. Immediately Nines stood, this being the cue he had waited for. ‘May I accompany you?’ ‘Sure, I mean it’s just to the breakroom and out for a cigarette.’ Nines waited until the Detective got his coffee and followed him to the parking lot.

‘So why are you so clingy today, toaster?’ He took a deep breath and blew the smoke out in the air. ‘You stated you were frustrated.’ ‘And?’ ‘That means you are not happy. As this is the prerequisite for a good working relationship, I aim to correct that.’ ‘What?’ ‘I noticed that your eyes are remarkable. There is a high possibility you won’t need glasses until old age.’ Nines scanned the human but couldn’t decide whether the expression he wore was flattered or dumbfounded. But well, that was complimenting him done. Now to the gift. ‘Here. Take this.’ He stretched out his hand, the stone on his palm. Gavin hesitantly took it and studied the object. ‘What is this?’ ‘It’s a stone. It reacts badly to pressure and heat, just like you and it looks like your eyes when we investigate at night. My research deemed this a suitable gift. I’m going back to work.’

With a more than pleasing [mission successful] in his HUD he left Gavin standing in the parking lot, the man staring a hole in his back.

[gumnut-logic]

Ostinato: A Tale of Sotto Voce

Oooh, look what I finished :D

-o-o-o-

Title: Ostinato

A Tale of Sotto Voce

Author: Gumnut

Aug 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Why the Hood didn’t currently have him under his thumb, why he could now see and speak to John without innate terror, why he hadn’t thrown himself into Thunderbird Three’s silo and why Thunderbird Five was still mostly in one piece. But most of all, why he was still alive.

Word count: 8400 ( that is not a frickin’ ficlet!)

Spoilers & warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, family, science fiction

Timeline: Shortly before the last scene of ‘Il Mago’, as they don’t know the identity of Il Mago, definitely before ‘Father’.

Author’s note: Nutty’s Fandomversary Fic Ten – Prompt: ‘I’d still love to see a brother (maybe Gordon while healing from injury) sleepwalk to five or John sleepwalk down to TI.’ for @melmac78

I’m afraid I don’t think I answered your request ☹ Because Eos monitors the space elevator, it would only be with her permission that the prompt could happen. So, to get as close as possible, I delved into Sotto Voce. I hope you enjoy what resulted anyway. Sorry I couldn’t answer correctly.

Also, it is midnight here and I will admit that I haven’t re-read the last bits of this as thoroughly as I should, but I’m tired and just want to post this. I’ll probably curse it when I discover some horrible error in the morning, but I need to go to bed. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for their help on this one.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil, you there?”

“Hmm? Yes, John?” He let his fingers dance over the piano keys seeking reassurance. Today wasn’t one of his better days since the Maggot and he was doing his best to turn it around. Piano was good. Piano gave absolution.

The ivory was smooth under his fingertips.

“I’m sending the elevator down. Could you pack me some Y-345 and T-3245 process rods? Brains needs to replace six of each in the computer core.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow. “So, I’m allowed in the hangars now?”

It had been a long recovery. Since the attack, he had been plagued by headaches and an awful narcolepsy that had kept him down and barred from the hangers for safety reasons. It had gotten to the point that Virgil was surprised he was allowed on the balconies without a chaperone.

But then he had one anyway, didn’t he?

I wouldn’t really call myself a chaperone, Uncle. More of a supervisor?

Supervisor implies you can tell me what to do, Eos.

I can. Not that you’ll listen.

You’ve got it in one.

John, unaware of what was being said, but suspecting something was afoot, glared at him from his little hologram on top of the piano. His hair was still blond, though the red was starting to show. “Have you two finished?”

Still playing, Virgil hid a smile. “She’s your kid, bro.”

“And you are still a bad influence.”

The smile broke into a grin. “Glad to be of service.”

“That’s fabulous, but could you be of better service and pack me those process rods?”

The grin faded to be replaced with a frown. “What’s wrong?” John was uncharacteristically on edge.

“Nothing.”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “Do I have to speak to Eos?”

John glared at him, and Virgil swallowed. Something must have registered on his face because John was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, Virgil. It’s just with Scott, Alan and Gordon on rescues and TB5 not fully up to par. It is a little frustrating.”

Virgil cursed himself for his reaction. When the hell was he going to get over that?! Most of the time he was fine, but on the now rare occasion, John’s expression would trigger him and he couldn’t help himself. John scared him, but it wasn’t John who was the cause of his fear. It hurt the both of them and he hated it.

“No, it’s not your fault. Never your fault.” A sigh and the music came to a stop. “I’ll hunt down your rods and meet with the elevator.”

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“Not a problem.”

His brother signed off and Virgil pushed himself back from the keys. At least he could be marginally useful. He was still banned from working on his ‘bird. He was getting better, but there were still moments.

A roll of his shoulders to loosen up his muscles and he stood.

Grandma was the only person on the island with him at the moment. Kayo was with Penelope, continuing their hunt for his assailant, while Brains was up on TB5 with John. It was so quiet, it was lonely.

He shook himself. God, the self-pity was ridiculous.

Eos didn’t remark at that thought but there was a wash of indescribable emotion.

He ignored it and headed for the elevator. Process rods were one of the many spare parts stored in the lower caverns. The network of caves below the villa was massive. It was the reason his father had chosen this island and it served them all so well. Cavecutters had ground out the spaces not naturally provided and International Rescue was able to operate solely because of all the automatic machinery these caverns housed.

The elevator hit the hangar floor and Virgil walked past his beloved ‘bird to the cavern access on the far side of the bay. The module train sat snug in its niche and he found himself blinking at the familiar sight.

More self-pity.

Shit.

He was on a roll today.

Another sigh. Calm, keep it calm. No need to trigger one of those blasted headaches again.

Maybe this was a basic reason to keep out of the hangers. Too much temptation and memory. Here was where he had kidnapped Brains. Here was where he had nearly shot his brother with Thunderbird Two’s laser. Looking up, he could still see the scorch marks on the massive hanger door.

Self-pity shifted to hate for a man now dead.

He grit his teeth.

Focus.

The storage cavern was full of neatly organised and labelled resources. Virgil, of course, knew exactly where to find what he needed. The process rods were light in his grasp. He threw in a few extra and with a further thought, grabbed a trolley and threw on some of the standard supply run items that his brother might need, plus a few extra processors for Eos.

Thank you, Uncle.

Are you watching everything I do? It was both annoying and reassuring.

Of course, I am. You’re in the hangars.

And I can’t be trusted. His shoulders slumped.

You know that is not the reason, Virgil.

Yeah, well, it sucks anyway. He shoved a few more components into the trolley.

You are getting better.

It is taking forever. So he was being petulant.

“Virgil?”

Another sigh. “I’m fine, John, just gathering your stuff.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine!”

The line fell silent and he knew his brother didn’t believe a word. Another wave of disappointment in himself hit. Man, he was in the dumps today.

A dozen LED spots landed in the trolley with a clunk.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. He grabbed the spots and checked them over visually for damage. Maybe he shouldn’t be in the hangars if a depressive mood had him breaking things.

Another sigh.

For goodness sake, get the hell over it! This wasn’t him. This wasn’t how he thought. Where was the positive? Where was his strength? He leant over the trolley, his elbows on the handle and rubbed his face.

“Virgil?”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Be at the elevator asap.”

Focus, for crying out loud.

He shoved the trolley ahead of him, darting among the shelves.

There was another trek across the hangar past his ‘bird which he purposefully ignored, into the elevator and up several levels to the space elevator’s dock.

The cavern beyond was so empty it hurt. TB1 and Shadow were absent and the space echoed his loneliness back at him.

For Christ’s sake!

A sudden roar as the elevator fired its thrusters, slowing its descent. At least the noise filled the vacuum.

A clunk and she docked solidly. “Elevator secure.” Eos’ voice echoed over the comms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are always welcome.” There was a smile in her voice.

He placed his palm on the hatch control and it blinked in recognition, the airlock opening. He strode in and found a stash of recycling in the freight containers. A little component juggling and he had the necessaries loaded and the unnecessaries lined up for the recycler. “Okay, John, she’s almost ready to haul up. Give me a sec for a pre-flight check.”

“FAB.”

Virgil paused a moment, staring at the controls of the elevator. A breath and his fingers ran through the checks automatically.

It was good to know that the knowledge had survived the frying of his brain.

His shoulders shifted under the weight of the depressive emotion that followed.

Definitely a bad day.

He needed his piano. Or paint. Or something.

Goddamnit!

Something shifted in his head.

Oh, shit.

He suddenly knew what was going to happen. No, not here! He turned towards the hatch. Get off the elevator. Get off-

He was on the decking, his hands barely catching him as his body succumbed to the sudden forced sleep cycle.

His head hit his forearm, and the world faded.

-o-o-o-

Eos knew the moment her uncle lost consciousness. She brushed electronic fingers across his interface and was reassured that he was simply asleep, victim of his narcolepsy. The fact he was asleep on the floor of the space elevator was the challenge.

“Father?”

John was in conversation with Scott on the far side of the planet, the Eldest struggling with a plane that was determined to fall out of the sky. Thunderbird Two’s presence would have been preferable and the man’s profanity proved that. However, neither Two nor her pilot were in any condition to go anywhere.

Current situation more than enough proof.

“Yes, Eos? Is the elevator ready to return?”

“Yes, John, but-“

“Please launch it, Eos. Scott, I am sorry, but my scanners are not at full capacity. This is all the information I can give you.”

Eos flicked back down to the elevator and checked again on her uncle. A number of calculations, safety variables. A glance in her father’s direction. A decision.

She fired the elevator’s thrusters and it launched from the island.

For the next eight minutes she hovered over that elevator, micro-firing adjustments, protecting her uncle as he was not fastened securely. She got him through the jet stream, up through turbulence until he was finally free of the atmosphere. Braking started early, the elevator slowing incrementally in order to prevent Virgil from being slammed into the ceiling at speed.

“Eos, what are you doing with the elevator?”

Her father had finally noticed. “We have a visitor.”

That drew his full attention. “What? Who?”

“Virgil fell asleep in the elevator.”

“He did what?!”

“His narcolepsy flared as he was doing pre-flight checks.”

“And you launched?!” The frown on her father’s face was volatile.

“You asked me to.”

“Eos!”

“He is safe! I would not risk him.”

“But why?”

The elevator was travelling so slowly by this point it was hardly moving. It slid into dock with barely a vibration against its moorings. “Father, his thoughts have been somewhat depressed. I thought company would help.”

The worry on John’s face spiked. “What thoughts?”

“Father, I respect his privacy, however, today his emotional status has been poor. I don’t think being alone is in his best interests at the moment.” She paused. “You can do things I cannot.”

He looked up at her camera, expression thoughtful. “Monitor my brothers while I attend to Virgil.”

“Yes, Father.”

John propelled himself towards the airlock.

-o-o-o-

It had been a hell of a day. That was the only excuse he had and it was a poor one. He had thought offering his brother that simple and urgent task would have helped him.

Apparently not.

And now he was asleep in their space elevator.

The seal hissed as he released it and floated through.

Virgil hovered just above the floor, his open red-checked shirt moving as the man breathed. His eyes were closed and shadowed, his whole body limp.

His brothers had commented often on how Virgil fell asleep all over the house. It had stopped happening so frequently, but not completely.

Virgil was going to be so pissed when he woke up.

John reached out and touched his brother’s cheek. Whispered. “C’mon, bro, let’s get you secured.”

It took John activating his suit’s attitude adjusters to create the momentum to get both him and his much heavier brother moving through the airlock. Some careful manoeuvring through the comms module and he almost ran into Brains as he entered the gravity ring.

Fortunately, the engineer overcame his surprise enough to help catch Virgil as the gravity caught the sleeping man.

“He fell asleep in the elevator.”

Brains’ eyes were roaming over the prone engineer assessing his condition.

“Eos, has been monitoring him. He is okay.”

“I-I will be happier w-when this in-voluntary sleeping c-ceases.”

“Won’t we all.”

They carried the man down the length of the ring to John’s quarters and secured him in his brother’s bed. Virgil’s boots landed on the glass floor.

“He packed our supplies before collapsing. Could you alert Grandma of Virgil’s location and ask her to send up some of his things once the supplies are unpacked?”

Brains nodded and took the gentle request for what it was and left.

John turned back to his brother and sighed.

So much fear and so much anger was wrapped around his big brother. John had done his best to help, but due to the situation, he was often part of the cause. He had run out of profanity to aim at the deceased Hood and the energy along with it.

All that was left was the need to help his brother recover.

And protect him as much as possible.

Il Mago was still out there, somewhere.

Scott...Scott was volatile. Their big brother was struggling with his inability to protect Virgil. John, at least, had tools at his hands to set up digital wards and Eos patrolled continuously. Scott was after the perpetrator like a man possessed. They still didn’t know who it was. Kayo and Penny were desperately looking for clues. Virgil had managed a drawing of the man’s face, but even the artist wasn’t happy with it and facial recognition had been unable to connect any dots. Eos had also seen the man, but she saw things differently in the virtual world and the concepts didn’t quite translate.

It left Scott fighting an unseen foe and so much broken gym equipment. Today’s rescue had at least been a break from the confines of Tracy Island for his eldest brother.

With that thought came the sad irony that someone had to be in danger for the Tracy family to catch a break. Their lives defied logic at times.

Reaching over, he brushed a stray hair off his brother’s forehead. Virgil snuffled in his sleep and began to drool on John’s pillow.

A fond smile was all the astronaut had for that.

All he wanted was for his brother to recover...well, as much as he could. That thought lay embedded in a darkness reeking of a need for revenge that could never be sought as the perpetrator was already dead.

A sigh. He had to get back to his other brothers. “Eos, keep an eye on him.”

“Of course, John.”

The astronaut returned to the comms module and the business of saving people.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil? You awake yet?”

The fog of sleep stifled his response, but he did open his eyes.

“Hey, Virg!”

Blink. Alan?

Try again. “A-Alan?” Ugh, his throat was dry. Air conditioning parch. The pillow under his head had an interesting smell.

Another blink. This wasn’t his pillow. Focus. Hell, this wasn’t his bedroom.

“Three to Virg, are you reading me?”

“Go away.” He swiped a hand in his brother’s direction.

“Do you have any idea where you are?”

“I’m in hell and you’re my penance.” He rolled away from his brother and face the wall. A very wrong coloured wall. What the-?

“You’re on Five, bro. John says you sleep-rode the elevator.”

The elevator?! He shot up in the bed, the lower gravity sending him almost bouncing off the ceiling. He caught himself at the last moment as his head spun and sprouted a whopper of a headache. “Ah, shit!” He dropped his head to his hands and gouged his eyes out with his palms.

“Hey, Virg, take it easy.”

A hand landed on his arm and Virgil forced down a flinch. He groaned. “Alan, what do you want?”

“I was in the area and thought I would check in on you.”

A long drawn out sigh and he forced himself to sit up straight. Alan had been on a rescue. “Status?”

The astronaut’s response was habitual. “All three passengers and the pilot accounted for. Brains is checking them over.” A breath. “Now what about you?”

“Just fabulous.”

Alan peered at him up close. “Tell that to the red roadmaps on your sclera.”

An irritated blink. “How do you even know that word?”

“Did the same first aid courses you did, bro.” Alan sat on the bed beside him. “Headache?”

He gave in. “Yeah.”

“I’ll grab you some pills.”

Whispered. “Thanks, Alan.”

His brother squeezed his shoulder and left the room.

Virgil took the moment to centre himself. A breath and he levered his feet off the bed and onto the glass floor.

Far beneath him the world spun away.

Starlight danced on his skin.

The world spun back into view...Australia, New Zealand...Tracy Island...

The world spun away again.

He closed his eyes against the stars.

Alan’s step was quiet on the glass, his uniform boots designed specifically for this kind of environment. Virgil became abruptly aware of his own lack of uniform. Breach of regulations, breach of safety.

Alan must have picked up on his thoughts. “Don’t worry, Eos had Grandma fetch some of your things. Apparently, John doesn’t think you’ll fit into his.”

Alan’s smile was a little infectious and Virgil found his spirits lifting just a little despite himself.

Quietly. “Thank you, bro.”

Alan’s smile broadened as he handed over the tablets and a bottle of water.

Virgil downed the medication in two quick gulps. The water was lovely and cool on the back of his throat. it loosened tight muscles.

Alan sat down beside him on the bed again. They sat together staring out through the floor.

“I have to say, this view never gets old.”

Virgil blinked. “No, it doesn’t.” Admittedly, he could probably list on one hand how many times he had been up here without a mission. The brothers were happy to call John down, but few of them, except perhaps Alan, came up here much. “It has its own beauty.”

“John said you’ve been having a bad day.”

He darted a glance at his little brother, his head not appreciating the abrupt movement at all. Eos!

Father was concerned! What was I supposed to do? You were asleep in the elevator. You were having a bad day. You were frightened by John at least once. You spent all morning at the piano attempting to chase away negative thoughts, which is probably why you crashed in the elevator. I was worried. John was worried. Youngest was worried. Eldest is currently pacing the comms room, worried. Only the second youngest isn’t worried because Scott ordered me not to tell him.

That is why you don’t tell everyone when I’m feeling like shit, Eos! They worry. I don’t want them to worry. They’ve worried enough. I’ve hurt them all too much already.

The thought hit the core of the matter and he found himself caught in the concept. He hitched in a breath and fought to keep himself in one piece. His brain hammered on the inside of his skull.

“Virgil?”

“I’m-“ He closed his eyes. “Alan, could I have a moment to myself please?” The words were tight and parched.

His little brother stood up. “Uh, yeah, sure. Call if you need anything.” The brush of Alan’s fingertips on his shoulder nearly broke him.

The door slid closed.

He could hold it all back no longer. It was everything. It was what had been done to him. What he had done to his family and the simple fact that he was no longer the Virgil Tracy he wanted to be.

Head in his hands, he let go.

-o-o-o-

“Father!”

John swung around, sonic screwdriver in hand. “Yes, Eos?”

“Virgil is...upset.”

John’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“The youngest spoke with him. He has a headache and the youngest gave him medication. Virgil admonished me for telling you of his ‘bad day’. His mood shifted to one of despair. He excused the youngest and now he sits with his head in his hands. He is in pain. Please, Father, what do I do?”

John swallowed and wished Scott was here.

But wishing was useless, as his Dad used to say. Work with what you have. And Virgil had John.

“Leave him to me.”

As he moved to leave the comms hub, Alan barrelled in. “John, it’s Virgil. Something’s up.”

A squeeze of a shoulder. “I know.” he handed his brother the screwdriver. “Here, comm relay to Brains and do as he asks. That panel over there.” Without another word, John pushed himself through the airlock and onto the gravity ring.

A sigh as his feet touched down on the floor.

A matter of steps and he was opening the door to his room.

Virgil sat on the edge of John’s bed. Elbows on knees, head in hands. He didn’t react to John’s presence at all.

On soft feet, John crossed the glass and sat quietly beside his brother.

Virgil’s shoulders were shaking.

A moment of hesitation and John reached out and gently dropped a hand on flannel covered shoulders.

The muscles beneath immediately tightened, a shudder echoing through Virgil’s frame.

A whisper barely more than breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

John’s throat knotted. “Not your fault.”

“No, it never is.” A ragged breath. “But it always is.” Another shudder and his brother straightened, obviously attempting to throw the emotions off. The face that emerged from his hands was pale and tearstained. A sniff and Virgil rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Sorry I worried you again.”

“Virgil.” His brother’s name fell from him in a rush. The man was emanating pain and John felt so inadequate.

Work with what you have.

His arm snaked around Virgil’s shoulders and he drew him closer. Virgil looked at him, a frown on his face.

A sudden dread that his brother might be triggered by his closeness and the anger flared in the back of John’s mind. But Virgil’s brow only crinkled in query.

So, John did something that he had wanted to do so many times during recent events. He wrapped his big brother in his arms and drew him close, bringing his head to rest on his shoulder.

The bigger man shuddered again. “John-“

“It’s okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ve got you.”

John bit his lip and found his own eyes wet as his brother shuddered again in his arms.

Virgil’s voice could barely be heard, its baritone strength whittled down to nothing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I-“ And it was replaced with a sob. “No. I can’t-“

“You can.”

His brother groaned in pain.

“Virgil.”

“‘S not fair.”

“Never is.”

What would Scott say? What were the magic words to release the family rock from his self-imprisonment?

“We love you, Virgil.”

The next sound was a broken sob, followed by another, and finally his big brother was crying.

He wilted in John’s arms, his massive shoulders, depleted by his illness, became frail under the emotional onslaught. John blinked away his own reaction and simply held on.

All the pain, the anguish, the torture, the arguments, the fear, the accusations...his brother had been through so much. It would be foolish to think a bout of tears could fix it all, but the release was a start, a chance to give the man a little healing.

It was a complete shock when his brother suddenly went limp in his arms.

“Eos!”

“He is asleep.”

“Again? So soon?” Virgil’s head lolled on John’s shoulder, tears still tracking down his cheeks from beneath wet eyelashes.

“He was emoting heavily. I suspect it triggered his narcolepsy.”

Damnit, the man could not get a break.

Awkwardly, John lowered his brother’s head back down onto the pillow. Standing, he dragged Virgil’s feet onto the bed and wrapped him in the thin blanket.

Once he was secure, John left the bedroom and approached the nearest holographic comms terminal.

“Thunderbird Five to Tracy Island.”

-o-o-o-

The smell of hot coffee woke him.

Virgil screwed up his face and let the muscles go, his eyes blinking. What the hell? He had been...speaking to John. Another blink and memory surfaced of what exactly he had been doing to his brother.

Shit.

“If you start kicking yourself for what happened earlier, I’m going to ask Eos to play some Neo-Boney M on loop.” John’s tone was firm from the end of the bed.

The threat was solid. Virgil hated the revival group. There were certain things that deserved to stay buried.

“Do that and I’m torching your ABBA collection.”

A snort. “You’d have to find it first.”

“I have an AI in my head.”

A pair of turquoise eyes pinned him to the pillow. “Really? You want to test my daughter’s loyalty?”

Virgil sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, hoping to god his brain would spare him the headache if he moved.

“Do that and I’m joining the circus and moving to Venezuela.” Eos’ voice was light over the comm system and a laugh echoed somewhere in the back of Virgil’s head.

John sipped his coffee. “Then I guess we won’t be doing that.”

Virgil frowned. “What’s in Venezuela?”

“Oh, they have been doing some very interesting AI experiments down there. Joe 23 is quite charming.”

Both brothers stared up at her camera in astonishment.

“You’ve spoken with other AIs?” John’s voice was strangled.

“Of course.”

“I hope you have considered the security risks, particularly considering recent events.”

Virgil’s heart froze. If Il Mago got his hands on other AIs...

“None of them have my capability. None could reach Thunderbird Five, much less endanger Virgil.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and his heart hit the floor. “Reach me?”

“Eos!” John’ voice was sharp.

“What? They can’t hurt him.”

“Eos! We will discuss this later!”

He hadn’t known there were other AIs. It made sense. Eos was unique, but experts had been experimenting with artificial intelligence for a very long time. The thought that he might be vulnerable to other intelligences....

Voice parched. “There better be more coffee where that came from.”

John didn’t answer. He reached behind and pulled out a sealed thermos and handed it over.

Virgil sat up in the bed and accepted the drink.

I’m sorry, Virgil. Are you upset about the other intelligences? They can’t reach you. Some of them can barely speak. None of them are capable of what I am. A pause. Are you okay?

He didn’t answer, not wanting to think at all. The coffee was scalding hot as it hit the back of his throat and he was ever grateful.

Please, Virgil. I’m sorry. I won’t speak to them again, I promise. She was getting agitated and it vibrated his mind.

The breath rushed out of him. “It’s okay, Eos. I’m fine.”

You’re lying! I can tell. Please, Virgil. Forgive me?

“It’s fine, Eos!” Just...just give me a moment. Please!

She backed off immediately.

He sighed, took another swig of coffee and closed his eyes. Just breathe.

Breathe.

“Virgil?”

“I’m fine!” It was a shout and it was loud.

John raised a hand and backed off as much as his daughter.

And Virgil felt worse.

“Shit.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “Sorry.”

John was staring at him, thoughts darting back and forth behind his eyes. A drawn in breath and his brother’s expression became firm. “Virgil, I want you in the infirmary.”

He blinked. “John-“

“Now.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine!”

Virgil jumped. John rarely raised his voice. It was his turn to stare.

“You’ve been to hell and back. You can’t possibly be ‘fine’.” That last word was snarled. “I need to check you over.”

“I’ve spent most of the last couple of months in the infirmary, John!”

“Then a few more minutes won’t hurt. You can visit mine for a little variety.”

“John-“

“Don’t argue with me, please. You will go to the infirmary even if I have to wait you out until you fall asleep again and I will check you over then.”

Virgil froze, lack of choice and power slapping him in the face.

“Father-“

Virgil cut her off. “Eos, shut it.” It came out sharp and nasty.

Well, that convinces me that Father is right. You need an examination.

“Leave me alone!” It came out as a desperate plea as far from his usually calm self as it could be. His head spun. “Leave me alone, leave me alone, please leave me alone, I can’t, I can’t, please, god, please, no more, please no more, make it stopmakeitstop, please make it stop, please, please...” Part of him sensed that something was very wrong. The rest of him was lost in a maelstrom.

An alarm sounded somewhere. Eos was calling his name. There were hands. He fought them, but more hands appeared and he was trapped.

That only made him fight more.

There was yelling. A young woman with flame red hair and a white dress caught his face and held him still. Uncle!

Hands held his body, but her eyes held his mind. Eos.

Green, aquamarine, turquoise, so deep he could fall into them.

So he did.

-o-o-o-

It happened so quickly, John was slow to react.

One minute he was verbally wrestling a stubborn brother to submit to a medical examination, the next that brother was pleading, heart wrenchingly desperate, tears in his eyes.

Eos was alarmed, reporting anomalous brain activity. Virgil’s coffee hit the floor and the hot liquid ran along the gravity ring.

His brother’s anguish drew him close in a need to comfort, but the moment his hand touched a shoulder, Virgil started fighting him.

It was uncoordinated and hysterical, but Virgil was a big man. An alarm sounded in the satellite and John vaguely registered Eos calling Alan and Brains. John was too busy avoiding getting his head handed to him.

A fist caught him on the arm as John grabbed a wrist. “Virgil!” That wrist yanked and John lost his footing almost immediately. He was dragged a couple of steps, but Alan grabbed Virgil’s other hand and the panic was deflected.

Neither younger brother was strong enough to tackle their tank of a brother at his usual fitness level, but the last few months had taken a serious toll on his health and the strength just wasn’t there anymore.

Brains grabbed a first aid kit. John and Alan struggled to hold Virgil...

“Father!”

Virgil dropped like a ragdoll, John and Alan staggering to support his sudden weight.

“O-on the floor. L-lay him on the floor. Vitals.”

John’s heart was in his throat as they ascertained that their brother was breathing, heart beating, alive.

His own respiratory reflex shuddered and let air out between his teeth.

Alan grabbed a collapsible hover gurney from the tiny medbay and moments later their brother was ensconced in the tiny room.

“What happened?” Alan’s voice hit a high pitch of worry.

“Th-that is w-what we will ascertain.” Brains worked with the tiny facility, connecting Virgil to an array of monitoring equipment. The reassuring beep of a regular heartbeat was a beautiful sound.

“Eos?” His daughter was unusually silent. When he got no response, his heart rate jumped a notch. “Eos!”

It wasn’t another attack was it? Please, no!

“John?” His heart missed a beat as she finally answered him.

“Eos? What can you tell us?”

“I...” Her voice trailed off.

“Eos?”

“He overloaded his system and forced a shutdown.” Her voice was puzzled. “Why?”

John glanced at his prone brother. So pale, so hurting, so wane. “Was there any incursion?”

“No. His...thoughts grew more and more distressed until he shut down.”

There was a mutter from the bed. Virgil’s head moved first to one side and then to the other. His eyes scrunched up and he groaned.

“V-Virgil?”

Another groan and he opened his eyes. “Brains?”

“How are you f-feeling?”

Those eyes blinked slowly. “Like crap. M’head...”

“Pain level, one to ten?”

It took Virgil a moment to answer. “F-four. Where am I?” Brown eyes peered slowly around the room until they latched onto John. They widened for just a microsecond before relaxing. “John. Thunderbird Five.”

So, his pain level was probably closer to eight if his previous report record ran true.

“H-have you eaten today?” Brains consulted a readout on his tablet.

Again with the slow blink as Virgil turned his head towards Brains again. “Umm...”

“He hasn’t eaten since he arrived here and that was a good five hours ago.” John mentally kicked himself. Busy was no excuse regarding his brother’s health.

Virgil was staring at him. “Five hours?!”

“You’ve been asleep for most of it.”

“Asleep?” The word was whispered and those eyes closed and didn’t open again.

Soft breathing and John realised that was exactly what his brother was doing. “Brains, what the hell is going on? He’s fallen asleep again.”

Brains was muttering to himself, fiddling with a hypodermic. He strapped up Virgil’s arm and drew blood from a vein. Shoving the sample into the blood analyser unit, his fingers danced over the controls. “I have my suspicions. I-if it is w-what I think it is...” There was an uncharacteristic anger in Brain’s voice. A blink and John realised the engineer was glaring at the analyser.

John’s hand drifted down to rest on Virgil’s leg. His brother didn’t notice.

There was a solid moment of silence punctuated by Virgil’s soft breathing before the analyser pinged its readiness.

Brains hit a few more buttons, muttered again, before hitting more, drawing further information from the machine. Another moment and it pinged again.

“Brains to Tracy Island.”

“Brains? How is he?” Scott had returned to the island half an hour ago, but he was still in his uniform, his expression predictably worried.

“Virgil is experiencing a dangerous deficiency in several crucial minerals, mostly iron and magnesium. I will send you a formula. I need you to visit Wellington and pick up some supplies.”

Scott paused a split second before moving. “FAB.”

Brains cut off the connection, turned back to Virgil and activated the bed’s holographic interface. A hologram of his brother’s body flickered into existence above the bed. A twist of his wrist and Brains focussed in on Virgil’s skull, bringing the image to a larger size and higher resolution.

The metallic filigree of the interface spiderwebbed across his brother’s frontal lobe.

John shivered.

The engineer continued to mutter to himself, focussing as close as the equipment would allow. “I have a th-theory. Virgil is showing a depletion of his mineral stores well into a serious d-deficiency range. This would explain his d-depression and ir-rationality. However, it does n-not give us a c-cause.” Brains frowned. “I had s-suspected this w-would be a problem and Virgil has been given sup-plements, b-but even if he m-missed one, the d-deficiency should not be this bad.” Another frown and the engineer returned to muttering.

John stared at the holographic portrayal of the device that had caused so much pain.

“Eos?”

“Yes, John?”

“Are you able to check on the condition of the interface and the nanites in Virgil’s system?”

There was a silence. Virgil began to snore. Another moment.

“Interface is fully functional. Virgil is asleep, however his mind is somewhat chaotic. Nanites...count is higher than previous.” There was a frown in her voice.

“There are more nanites? How?”

There was silence for a moment. “Father, they have reproduced. System logs report...the interface was damaged and required repair. More nanites were needed, so more were made. Checking....redundancy code was activated and enacted. Resources were required.”

And Virgil was the resource. It was left unsaid, but as Brains straightened, his expression grim, it didn’t need to be.

“Damn.” It came out as a single whispered breath. “Eos, we went through that code with a fine-toothed comb, where was this redundancy code? We rewrote the majority of their programming to prevent something like this from happening.”

Brains shifted where he stood and frowned. “W-we were more concerned with stopping the growth of the in-terface, J-John. We kn-knew there would b-be a m-maintenance cost. Unfortunately, it c-caught us un-awares.” A sigh. “We can c-correct this and m-monitor closely. It is j-just a m-matter of b-balancing between wh-what the nanites n-need and levels of toxicity in relation to the r-rest of V-Virgil’s body.”

On the bed, Virgil snorted in his sleep and rolled over, curling up as if cold. John grabbed one of the medbay blankets and, reaching through the holograms above his brother, draped the thin covering over the sleeping man.

As if to be particularly endearing, Virgil immediately snuggled up under the warmth. Another snort and soft snoring echoed through the room.

John swallowed. “Brains, are you saying that the levels of minerals the nanites need could be toxic?”

The engineer sighed again. “I d-don’t know yet. I need to run further tests. Extra supplements as w-with any m-medication have their limits.” He shifted where he stood. “W-we will start with an increase and see how we g-go.”

The expression on Brains’ face wasn’t giving John the greatest confidence.

Virgil snorted again, muttered something in his sleep, and began drooling on his pillow.

-o-o-o-

Uncle?

Hmmm-mmm.

Virgil?

Soft piano music began playing and he couldn’t help but smile. Chiddi’s sonata, a light and lively dance on a Sunday afternoon. It always made him feel like dancing. He swirled around the wooden floor of the comms room and found a young woman in his hands. Red hair, green eyes and a flash of white dress as they spun around together.

It was nice to have someone to dance with.

Uncle, are you going to wake up? She was smiling up at him and while the room continued to spin around them slowly, they had stopped moving. Who?

A sparkle in her eyes.

Eos.

Time to wake up, Uncle. Her hand was in his.

She took a step and he had to follow.

Pain crashed into him. Voices. God, his head.

“Pain c-count, one to ten?”

Eleven. “S-six. Brains, what the hell?”

“His estimate is actually much higher, Hiram.” Eos’ voice danced all around him. Don’t lie about your health, Uncle.

“I will do what I damn well want to, Eos!” Augh, he clutched his head. Damn, that hurt.

Fingers fumbled at his wrist and something cold shot up his arm. He groaned, but then the pain started to fade. Oh, thank god. He melted into the bed. Yes, he was lying on a bed.

“Better?” The soft voice came from near his head. He blinked and a blue and gold blur slowly resolved itself into little Johnny.

“Better.” It came out little more than a sigh. A blink. A frown. “What happened?”

“You fell asleep again.”

“Again?” Another blink. “I was dancing. Around and around.” He smiled. “With Eos. She looks so much like you. Lovely long red hair, eyes aquamarine like the ocean in the sun. So young, so old, so amazing. We need to protect her, John.” He reached out and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Promise me we’ll protect her.” His brother’s eyes, that same aquamarine, widened and stared down at him. “Promise me, John, we can’t let him hurt her. We can’t.”

His brother nodded slowly. “We will protect her, Virgil, I promise.”

He believed him. If anyone could do it, Johnny could. “Thank you, thank you.” He squeezed his brother’s arm and John’s fingers wrapped around his, tightening in return.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s eyes were glazed by the haze of necessary medication, but he was awake. Three times he had awoken and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Brains actually swore. It was something John had never heard the engineer do, and in his native language no less.

Eos had been worried as much as John and Scott...Scott was only on the Island because Grandma ordered him to stay put. Consequently, John was on a five-minute update rotation for his eldest brother.

Speaking of which...count down....

Scott’s hologram flashed up beside the bed. “Thunderbird Five, report!”

Virgil jumped, his eyes going wide. “Scott? Is that you? Really you? Please be you. Eos? John?” His brother’s eyes latched onto him and widened even further before darting back to Scott, to John, to Scott...shit. “Not you, too, Scotty, please no.” Fear crumpled his brow.

“Virgil.” John squeezed the hand on his arm, holding it close. “It is Scott. I promise. Eos, tell him.”

Virgil’s frown deepened for a moment, his eyes going distant. A soft smile spread over his face and he closed his eyes.

It was John’s turn to frown. “Eos? Tell me what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry, John, but he’s slipping into sleep again.”

“Sleep?” Scott’s voice was worry itself. “Are we any closer to working out why?”

Brains, who had been absorbed in a readout from the EEG woven into Virgil’s hair, suddenly spun and grabbing a hypodermic needle, quickly drew some blood from the tap in the crook of Virgil’s elbow.

Virgil didn’t notice. He began to snore again.

John sighed.

The blood sample was shoved into the analyser and Brains stabbed the machine. “Eos, I-I need a nanite activity r-report. Access their logs and send to m-my t-tablet, p-please.”

“Yes, Hiram.” The tablet pinged.

For a few minutes there was only the sound of Brains muttering to himself and Virgil’s soft snores.

The expletive that shot out of Brains’ mouth a moment later was enough to curl even John’s toes.

“What’s wrong?” Scott still hovered beside the bed, his gaze caught between his brothers and the once again muttering engineer.

“They are p-putting him to sleep.”

“What? Who?”

“The nanites. When m-mineral r-resources drop too low, they stimulate a sleep cycle so Virgil’s body shuts down.” There was an untranslated mutter. “This cannot stay this w-way. They cannot have control.” He turned away again, stabbing the analyser with his fingers.

“John?”

He didn’t have any answers. Not yet.

Virgil snorted and rolled over in his sleep, dragging cables and IV. John gently untangled him.

“John?”

“I don’t know, Scott. As soon as I do, you will, too.”

His brother’s expression reflected the frustration in his own. “Understood, Tracy Island out.”

The hologram dissipated.

John sighed. “Do we have anything, Brains?”

“It appears the interface m-may have been damaged during the encounter with Il M-mago.”

“We didn’t detect any damage.” Both John and Brains had scanned their brother thoroughly after the incident, desperate to make sure he wasn’t hurt further.

Brains looked down a moment. “I’m afraid we m-must have missed something. The n-nanite logs definitely show a sudden increase in activity.”

“They didn’t at the time.” John’s stomach twisted. He hated this. The not knowing and his brother’s life in the balance.

Brains sighed. “No, they didn’t.”

John straightened. “Eos, I need a complete listing of all the nanites code. I want all their logs. I want everything.”

“Yes, John.”

He gently squeezed Virgil’s hand and placed in on the bed beside the sleeping man. “Brains, I’ll be in my office.”

“I will monitor him.”

“Thank you, Brains.”

The image of their genius engineer leaning over his prone brother kept him company for the following hours of writing code.

-o-o-o-

Do you like dancing?

I love to dance.

I’ve never seen you do it.

It is much more fun with a partner.

You have your brothers.

He laughed. Not quite the dance partners I had in mind.

What about Kayo? She has a great deal of control over her body.

Virgil frowned and stared at his niece. To be honest, it has never occurred to me.

You should ask her. I’m sure she would love to dance with you.

He shrugged. Grandma has danced with me in the past.

It was Eos’ turn to eye him as they spun around the room. While Mrs Tracy is quite capable, I don’t think she is quite the partner you have in mind either.

Virgil led her into another twirl across the balcony of the comms room, reality intruding on fantasy. It doesn’t matter now.

She drew them to a stop. What do you mean? You said you loved dancing. Why don’t you find someone to dance with?

Eos-

If you are going to use the interface as an excuse, I’m going to pull out that Neo-Boney M recording.

Don’t you dare.

A quicksilver smile and his niece danced across the balcony by herself, her arms outspread, dress twirling. I agree, this is fun. You should do it more often.

He sighed. Have you finished updating the code yet?

She spun again while staring up at the sky. Oh, that. I managed that in the second before you realised I was even here.

What?

I wanted to try this dancing again. It is lovely.

He searched his memory looking for any change or difference and found nothing. Is it working okay?

She stopped spinning and faced him. Everything is fine, Uncle. I promise.

Okay.

We will make this better. She approached him slowly. Hiram, Father and I will make this work.

I hope so.

He backed up and sat himself down on his piano stool. This place was so real, but so not home.

Can I wake up now?

She stared at him, her head tilted slightly to one side. Hiram, has started a regime to replace your mineral stores. He has given you several injections and is monitoring the results. There have been more blood tests.

He would have complained about being a pincushion, but to be honest he had had so much worse. Can I wake up?

You don’t want to dance anymore?

Eos.

Okay, okay. She reached for his hand and he let her take it, following.

-o-o-o-

John was tired, but determined.

“Eos, how is he?”

“Memory response is good. Knowledge retrieval fast. The interface is working well. Nanite response in minimal. He wants to wake up.”

“Give it a moment longer.” He turned to Brains. “Are his levels responding.”

“Slowly. It will t-take some t-time to b-bring them up to healthy levels. He will n-need m-monitoring for some days p-possibly weeks. I r-recommend we r-return him to Tracy Island for his own comfort. Mrs T-Tracy, Scott and G-Gordon are fully c-capable of r-retrieving the blood samples n-needed. I can m-monitor from here and continue r-repairs to Thunderbird Five.”

“Virgil is far more important than Five.”

Brains stared at him calmly. “He will be well, J-John.”

John let his shoulders drop. He hated this. Hated this powerlessness.

“Virgil is becoming insistent.”

“Okay, Eos. Wake him up.”

His brother lay on his back, face pale...which wasn’t surprising since he was actually anaemic. Eyelashes on pale cheeks fluttered. Brown irises sought his.

“Hey, Virgil. You with us?”

A blink. A frown. “I think so.”

“Are you in any pain?” Brains hovered beside the bed.

Virgil turned his head towards the engineer. “Headache.” Another slow blink and he turned back to John. “Eos likes to dance.”

It was John’s turn to blink.

Brains interrupted by relaying Virgil all the necessary medical information about his condition. His brother nodded once before once again latching his eyes onto John.

Somewhat unnerved by the intense but silent stare, John shifted where he stood. “You ready to go home, Virgil?”

“Home?”

“Back to Tracy Island.”

“Oh, yes, sure.” The stare continued.

“Virgil?”

His brother didn’t answer immediately, still staring at John. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly appeared at a loss for words. A blink and then, his voice rough, “You should be proud. Very proud.”

It took John a moment to connect the dots. But when he did, he straightened.

“I am.” A dip of his head. “Of both of you.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil returned home. He was quiet, but his mood appeared to be stable and possibly improving. Brains and John sent him down via the elevator, Scott at the other end to help his brother out of the seat and harness. Between Grandma, Scott and Gordon, he wouldn’t be alone at all. It was thought best that considering his induced depression and possible mood swings, that he should not be left unattended.

Virgil grumbled, but complied.

Of course, his blood tests would continue and Eos was monitoring the nanites closely. Virgil couldn’t sneeze without someone taking notes.

It was necessary. He had to be saved.

That bastard was still out there. Somewhere.

John floated in the hub, eyes scanning the code output of the nanites in Virgil’s blood. He watched their reactions to Virgil’s reactions. His brother was currently grumbling at Scott. Eos had rolled virtual eyes at that, throwing several exasperated questions at John as to why his brother was such a stubborn ass.

“Because that is one of the reasons he is still alive.”

And why the Hood didn’t currently have him under his thumb, why he could now see and speak to John without innate terror, why he hadn’t thrown himself into Thunderbird Three’s silo and why Thunderbird Five was still mostly in one piece.

They all relied on that stubborn.

John sighed.

The code scrolled past.

His eye caught something. “Eos, can you pull up that secondary function on the third tier?”

“This one?”

The code lines appeared midair and he re-read them. “I didn’t write this.”

“No.”

“I’ve never seen this. I thought we pulled all the code.”

“One moment please.”

John waited.

Waited.

Waited.

“Eos?”

“Please hold.”

His shoulders grew tight under his suit.

A breath.

Another.

“They are capable of writing their own code.”

“What?! How?”

“Investigating.”

“They are reacting to certain situations. When one gets triggered another will respond and alter the code of the first to assist its needs.” The AI paused. “It is rather an intriguing concept.”

“How does this affect our code? And how did we miss the code that initiates this process?”

“I don’t know, John.”

“Then we need to find out. This is Virgil’s life!”

“I know, John. I will do my best.”

He sagged where he floated. Damn. “I know you will, Eos. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

His eyes returned to tracking the code, now picking out the small differences that weren’t there when he input the code. “Eos?”

“Yes, John.”

“Do you feel hate?”

“Are you referring to the people who did this to Virgil.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then most definitely.”

“He is still out there. He could attack at any time.”

“I know. I have put up as many defences as possible.”

“You know they won’t be enough.”

Silence.

“Eos?”

“I have to protect him.”

“But you can’t.”

“I can try!”

A swallow. “So can I.” He straightened, determination and his own version of Tracy stubborn setting in. “I want every piece of information we have about the interface, how it functions, what it is made of, everything. I want it here now.”

“John?”

“We are going to find a way.” His lips thinned. “Virgil shouldn’t have to stand alone.”

“I’m going to stand with him.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[melodramaticfanatic-blog]

Alarm Clock - Bucky one shot

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: smut; 18+ warning. I regret nothing but this is very little plot and mostly naughty. Oh, also, I didn’t proof read this at all. I wrote it, pasted it and posted it so...

Summary: Reader always seems to oversleep

A/N: HEY! This is what I did today (among other things). Enjoy it. Also, for upcoming work please let me know who you want to see appear in a multifandom project I’m working on! 

I’m working on a BUNCH of stuff right now but I want to give you all what you want; help me do that! Feel free to drop in my asks if you wanna stay anonymous 

Gif not mine, credit to owner

The knock on the door was quiet to the point of barely being a knock. It was more a slight tap, too shy and hesitant to really be called anything else. Bucky stood in the hallway shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Leave it to Steve to pressure him into waking you up. Sure, you two were friends and he’d spent time in your room before (late night movie sessions or just hanging out and talking privately always happened in your room instead of his because it was so much more homey and comfortable than his practically empty suite) but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was ready to invade your space and drag you out of unconsciousness. He knew how pleasant sleep could be and really didn’t want to be the one that took that happiness away from you. Still, Steve said it was time for training and what the Captain wants, the Captain gets...one way or another.

“Y/N?” Bucky called softly with another unsure knock. “Doll, you awake?”

Still no answer. Not even a rustle of bedding could be detected with his enhanced senses. With a deep sigh, Bucky resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to do this the hard way and he reached out to open the door, slipping his large body inside the moment the gap was wide enough for him.

“Sweet Jesus!” Bucky’s eyes went so wide he was shocked that they didn’t pop right out of his head and roll away. It took every bit of will power in him to drag his gaze away from your form and up to the ceiling. Who in the holy hell sleeps with their legs spread wide open like that?! His breathing was unsteady and he was mouthing a prayer low under his breath as he thought about what his Ma would say if she knew what was going on in his head at this moment. Seemingly of their own volition, his eyes returned to you.

You were soundly asleep, laying atop the soft sheets with limbs spread in every direction, your chest rising and falling slowly in a deep, steady rhythm. Bucky’s gaze traveled over your messy hair, haloed around your head from how you had been rolling your sleep, down the delicate curve of your neck and to the swell of your breast. The sheets that had probably started out covering you were bunched to the side, another byproduct of your overnight tossing, leaving him with a clear view of the tank top and small cotton boy shorts you had worn to bed. He could clearly see the peaks of your nipples through the thin material and he had to shut his eyes for a moment as his body began to tremble slightly.

Alright, so Bucky may have a little thing for you. Just a couple of feelings that ranged beyond the platonic appearance he tried to maintain. It wasn’t really much. Just that he was crazy about you. Infatuated. Deeply and totally in love with you and he wanted to have his way with you in every room of the compound. That was normal, right?

From over on the bed, Bucky heard a low moan and it made his knees weak. Goddamnit if this went any further he was going to embarrass himself.

“Bucky?” Your voice was still slurred slightly with sleep. “‘Sgoing on?”

“Uh, hey, Doll,” he said with a shaky laugh, prying his eyes open again. “Stevie sent me to get you. Looks like you overslept for training again.”

You groaned and threw your arm over your eyes (which may have caused your breasts to bounce in the most appealing way Bucky had ever seen). “That man has no respect for sleeping in.”

“Not even a bit of respect…” Bucky trailed off as his gaze returned to its previous journey down your body. The way that you were shifting as you stretched had caused the tank top to ride up slightly, baring a thin strip of your flesh in between the hem of the shirt and the top of your boy shorts. Bucky desperately wanted to drag his lips over that space, kissing every bit of exposed skin while murmuring how much he loved and wanted you. Even worse (or better? Sooooo much better...god, he was definitely going to hell, sorry Ma) was the fact that the movement had pulled on your shorts in a similar manner, pressing the fabric more tightly against your flesh. With your legs still splayed across the bed and Bucky still standing at the door across from you, he could clearly see every dip and curve of your core through the thin material. He shifted uncomfortably again, trying to rearrange his raging hard on without you noticing.

“Say, uh, Doll-” he cleared his throat as he tried to decide what exactly he wanted to say.

“It’s alright, Buck. I’m up now.” You lowered your arm from your face with a resigned sigh and swung your legs over the side of the bed so that you were in a sitting position. “I’ll get changed and meet you guys in the gym in ten.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

That day had been a hard one for him. Steve had managed to hit him in the head several times while they sparred because he was too distracted by watching you to keep his guard up. Then you had decided to stretch right in front of the heavy bag while he was in the middle of his sequence. Thanks to the way you bent over and put your ass on display, he now owed Stark another bag to replace the one he had mangled. Both you and Steve had noticed his odd behavior and questioned him several times, trying to make sure that he was alright. Every time someone commented on it, Bucky simply claimed he was tired and hadn’t slept well. A believable lie considering he often didn’t sleep well but a lie all the same. All in all, it was a relief to slip away and hid out in his room, his thoughts a maelstrom of indecision and you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Bucky got up earlier than normal the next morning. Now he could honestly say that he hadn’t slept well. Thoughts of you had kept him awake most of the night along with the dull ache that those thoughts caused in his groin. Bucky had desperately wanted to close his eyes and picture you (he could remember every detail of what he had seen so perfectly) while getting himself off but the thought also made him feel so wrong. It was a total invasion of your privacy. He was supposed to be a gentleman (and your friend!) and taking advantage of the fact that he had seen you so vulnerable was not how a gentleman behaved (no matter how much said gentleman’s body might want him to). As a result of his restless night, Bucky was in the kitchen already steadily depleting the coffee pot when Steve arrived.

“Hey, Buck! You’re up early,” the blond mused as he walked into the kitchen wearing his navy sweatpants and tight grey shirt. Did Steve even own any shirts that fit him? Bucky had been meaning to ask. “Ready for a run?”

“Sure, Stevie. Just the two of us today?”

“Sam and Y/N are coming too. I asked last night.” Steve filled a mug of his own and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Actually, they should be down here by now. Wonder what’s keeping them?”

A bit too quickly, Bucky set his empty mug into the sink and pushed his body away from the counter where he had been leaning. “Why don’t you see about Sam and I’ll go check in on Y/N?”

Steve raised his eyebrows and shot his friend a confused look but Bucky was already halfway out of the kitchen.

“You know how she loves her sleep,” he continued with an unconvincing laugh. “I’ll bet she’s still in bed.”

“Uh- Ok, pal. Just uh- meet us outside?”

Bucky gave a wave over his shoulder and practically jogged down the hallway towards your room. The entire trip he tried to convince himself that he was just being a good friend. Just making sure that you hadn’t overslept and that you got enough exercise. He was definitely not trying to catch another glimpse of you in bed. So if his knock on the door happened to be even more quiet than it was yesterday, that was only because he didn’t want to scare you. It had absolutely nothing to do with his desire to be in the room once more while you spread out over the mattress like a dream.

After waiting about 30 seconds without an answer or a sound behind the door, Bucky concluded that you must still be asleep. Looks like it was his role (no, his responsibility as your friend!) to come in and wake you up. Just like the day before, Bucky held his breath and slipped inside the room as quietly as possible.

“Nnngrrr-” the sound of the groan that he let out was barely human. It sounded much more akin to an animal in pain but damn it- how were you wearing LESS than you had been yesterday!? This tank top seemed to be made of a thinner material than yesterday’s had been and it looked like you had purposefully bought it a size too small so that it hugged each and every curve obscenely (had you been taking fashion advice from STEVE?!). Even worse (better!! SO MUCH BETTER!!) was the change in panties. Gone were yesterday’s boy shorts. Instead you had donned a pair of lacy underwear that barely covered anything and, wait….was it a thong?! Oh, it was definitely a thong. If Bucky bent his knees just slightly he could easily see the thin strip of material disappearing between your folds because you were, once again, sprawled wantonly across the bed. He felt as though he had been transported into a cartoon and any moment a literal angel and devil were going to appear on his shoulders. He couldn’t decide which part of his brain was louder: the half screaming for him to stare at you and touch you and taste you and never let you go or the half screaming for him to behave, turn around, look at the ceiling and respect your privacy.

For now, the respectful side won. Bucky lifted his gaze to your face and studied it as he called your name. His eyes drifted over the arch of your brow, watching the way it furrowed slightly as he retrieved you from your dream, the high plane of your cheekbone, the sharp line of your nose and the plump curve of your lips. He stopped there and just stared for a few moments, tracing over the contours of your mouth and imagining all the things he wanted to watch them do, all the sounds he wanted to cause to fall from them, all the words he wished they’d form. You smiled slightly as you began to wake and he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, taking a step closer to the bed.

“Doll?”

“Mmm…” you let out a whiny little moan that caused him to chuckle.

“Looks like I’m your alarm clock again, Y/N.”

“Don’t wanna get up,” you said with a mock pout to your voice. “Wanna stay in bed all day and cuddle.”

“Next time don’t tell Steve you’ll go on a run then, silly.”

Your eyes opened slowly and found him still standing between the door and your bed. “But you’re going on the run.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. Is that why you trained with Steve even though you hated getting up early and he was the king of the morning people? You did it to be with him!?

“Alright, alright my own personal rooster. I’m awake.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and sat up again, running a hand through your hair as you gathered in up into an elastic. “But after the run, I’m eating my weight in pancakes.”

Bucky’s low, rumbling chuckles died out the instant you stood up and strolled over towards your bathroom apparently unconcerned that he could see every bit of your ass as you passed by him with a pronounced sway in your step.

“Ma, give me strength,” he gasped as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, willing off the latest in a series of raging erections you had caused.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

“So uh...what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

Bucky nearly fell on his face when Steve asked him that the next morning before breakfast. “What? Nothing. Nothing’s going on, Stevie. Why would you think that something is going on?” Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth. Since when was Steve the one that remained cool under pressure?

The blond gave a nonchalant shrug and continued staring at Bucky over his cup of coffee, steam rising in front of his piercing blue eyes. “Well, for starters there’s the fact that it’s been taking you about a half an hour each morning to wake her up-”

“She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“- and you’ve been exceedingly ready to do just that every morning, by the way.”

“I, uh-I like making fun of her bed head,” Bucky tried to lie smoothly but he sounded more ridiculous by the moment he knew.

“Sure, pal. So I suppose you just tripped over a loose piece of pavement when you fell yesterday, right? Wouldn’t have had anything to do with the fact that your eyes were so glued to her you weren’t paying any attention to where you were going?”

Bucky could feel the flush creeping over his cheeks and knew that he was going to be bright red soon if he wasn't already. He had really taken a spill on the run the previous morning (in fact, he even had bruises from it) and Steve had nailed the reason why. You had just looked so amazing, running in front of him in your tight leggings and sports bra, your hair glimmering in the sun as you laughed at whatever Sam was saying. The stupid bird insisted on running with you and making him and Steve run together, saying that it was only fair since neither of them would be able to keep up with a super soldier. If Bucky could have just been next to you, he never would have fallen. It was only because he was so focused on what you were doing and hearing your laugh that he didn’t pay attention to where he set his feet.

“No clue what you mean, Punk.” Bucky pushed himself away from the counter and stared down at the ground, avoiding Steve’s incredulous expression as he tried to escape the kitchen again.

“Well, I hate to encourage this but Y/N said she wanted to get up early and surprise Tony with breakfast today. Something about a thank you present for him. You want to-?”

The words hadn’t even left his friend’s mouth before Bucky was nodding and waving goodbye to him. “On it!”

This morning trip down the hallway to your room was rapidly becoming one of his favorite moments of the day. It gave him just enough time to think about all the things he loved about you (how soft you were, how kind, how smart, how funny, how you never treated him like he was different or a monster or broken) and built up his anticipation for what might happen today. It was a wonderful thing that feeling of possibility, something that had been missing from his life for longer than he could remember. The open ended what if that suddenly had so many fabulous answers. Bucky barely tapped on the door at all anymore before sliding himself into your room with a gentle sigh. It was like he was coming home. He always took care to close his eyes and delay the moment when he would get to enjoy your beautiful form. Made sure that he was in the room with the door closed and only he could see you before landing his steely gaze on your body. He always thought he was mentally prepared...he never was.

“Grrrrhh!” Did he just fucking growl?!

You were going to be the death of him. Every other morning you had been on your back. Your limbs had been all over the place and you’d given him a show, sure, but always from the same angle. Not today though. Today you had decided to murder him where he stood. You were on the bed on your stomach, arms crossed under the pillow that rested under your head. The sheets were, as always, cast off to the side, revealing every inch of you to his ravenous eyes. And this morning it really was EVERY inch. There was not a stitch of fabric covering your body and Bucky’s eyes traveled the delicate curve of your spine down to the full roundness of your ass. Was he crazy or were your hips pressed slightly into the air? It certainly looked like your back was arched. His knees were trembling as he leaned back against the door and Bucky could feel his pounding heart over every bit of his body, almost as though his entire form was throbbing with the desire for you. The more his knees buckled, the lower he slid against the door. The lower he slid, the better his view got of your core...your glistening core. His head thumped back against the door and another growl left his mouth as his hands wrapped into fists at his side. You were wet. He could so easily just- no. Nope. Not an option. Time to think about some saints and his Ma and things that were definitely not at all sexy.

“Buck?” You said his name with a sleepy slur and stirred slightly.

“Yeah, Doll, it’s me.” Damn, get control Barnes. His voice was low and raspy. If he wasn’t careful you would certainly notice something was up (and it was DEFINITELY up).

“Whas’going on?”

Bucky approached the bed slowly and pulled the sheet over your bare ass, covering as little of your perfect (well, perfect to him) body as possible but still trying to be kind as the two sides of his mind battled over you. “Steve said you wanted to be up early? This oversleeping thing has kinda become a habit, sweetheart. You feeling ok?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, sleepily, turning your head to face him but not moving from your position. “‘M fine.”

“Getting enough sleep at night? Going to bed at a decent hour?”

“It’s so sweet that you look out for me, Buck.” You chuckled softly and flashed him a warm smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage. “Just keep missing my alarm is all.”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it then, Doll.”

Just as he went to turn and head out, you let out a low moan and he felt your soft fingers circle around his wrist.

“Actually, Buck, can you help me out?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, not when his pulse was going haywire at your touch, so he just looked back to you and nodded when he saw that your eyes were open.

“I’ve got this terrible crick in my neck; I think I must have slept wrong. Can you rub it out for me?”

Rub. It. Out. (Don’t growl, don’t moan, don’t cum in your pants). Bucky tried his best to react like a normal human being might. He nodded stiffly and sat down on the bed next to your hip, brushing his fingers over your skin as he pushed your hair out of the way. You let out a soft little sound, almost like a purr, and he had to remind himself again (don’t growl, don’t moan, don’t cum in your pants). He let his fingertips ghost over your soft skin once more, enjoying the way goosebumps seemed to form in his wake (though that was probably just because of the cool touch of his vibranium arm). He was careful to apply only the lightest pressure, his hands resting against your shoulders while his thumbs rubbed soft, soothing circles into your neck. He let the calloused pads travel up towards your hairline and then back down again, shivering slightly as you let out that low purr like sound.

“Mmm...a bit harder, Bucky?”

It took everything in him to remember his mantra that time and his hands gripped onto you more tightly as he fought for control over himself. Luckily, this forceful grip met your approval and you let out a soft gasp.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Bucky began praying under his breath as he squeezed and rolled your shoulders, trailing both his metal and flesh hands over your skin. You felt so perfect to him, so soft and supple and smooth. Each movement was as fluid as the ocean, each touch as delicate as velvet. He let the rest of the world slip away and put all of his attention on your delicate back, worshipping you as best he could.

“Did you both die or- whoops!”

Bucky turned to see Sam standing in the doorway with Steve just behind him, both men wearing identical expressions of shock and embarrassment.

“They’re fine, you’re fine, we’re leaving!” Steve was pulling at Sam’s arm in an effort to get him out of the room while your head poked around Bucky’s body and you began to laugh.

“Relax, weirdos. I had a pulled muscle or something in my neck. Bucky was just giving me a hand. Nothing inappropriate going on.”

“Of course not!” Bucky agreed, pulling slightly on his sweatpants. (It was absolutely true as long as him having thoughts that would make a porn star blush and pitching a huge tent didn’t qualify as inappropriate.)

“Alright, well, whatever y’all were up to is none of my business,” Sam said with a knowing wink. “Just wanted to let you know that Tony is up and about.”

“Awesome! If you boys wouldn’t mind making yourself scarce, I gotta put some clothes on so I can get to cooking.”

Bucky stood up quickly and began shepherding Sam and Steve out immediately.

“Well, wait a damn minute! Hold on now- she wasn’t wearing any-”

“OUT BIRD BRAIN!!”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

He needed an excuse. Any excuse to go to your room and wake you up. Only for the first time, he didn’t have one. Steve hadn’t mentioned any training. Breakfast was already made. Sam was busy doing whatever the hell he did when he wasn’t annoying Bucky and you...well, you just were missing. Was that a good enough excuse? He tried to play the scenario out in his mind (oh, hi, Doll, just wanted to stop by and make sure you’re awake for no specific reason and also, hey what’d you wear to bed last night?). Nope, he needed a reason.

“Hey, Steve?”

“I haven’t seen her.”

Bucky froze and looked over at his friend with wide eyes.

“That was what you were gonna ask, right?” The blond man asked, glancing up from the newspaper he was reading. “If I’d seen Y/N? Or maybe more accurately, if I needed to see her and give you a reason to head to her room?”

He could feel his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as if he had turned into a giant fucking goldfish.

“Buck,” Steve said with a low chuckle and a shake of his head. “Just go pound on the door and tell the woman you love her. Then buy her a damn alarm clock.”

That seemed like advice worth taking. Bucky was on his feet and moving down the hall only a heartbeat later. This time when he came to your door he didn’t bother knocking at all, he just slipped it open and slid his body inside, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Hey, Doll, I-UUuuuuggghh!”

The. Fucking. Death. Of. Him. That’s what you were going to be.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

You were waiting for him. Of course he was going to come to your room, it was practically routine at this point. Since you knew that, you decided to have a little fun with him. There were probably easier ways to get what you wanted but he had been so cute and flustered that first day when he saw you in bed. That time had been a complete accident but after seeing his reaction...well, maybe you just wanted to see how he’d respond to a little more. Teasing was over now though, which is why you were sitting completely naked on your bed, one leg draped off the side of the mattress, the other bent at the knee and propped up so that the door, and the gorgeous man in front of it, had a perfect view of your glistening sex as you swirled your finger in languid circles over your clit.

“Gonna just stand there, Sarge, or are you willing to lend a hand?”

Bucky was leaning against the door where he had sagged upon seeing you. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as his eyes darkened, the irises overtaking the arctic blue that surrounded them and his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His dark hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck but rogue strands had come loose and framed his angular face perfectly. As his jaw clenched under his dark beard, you couldn’t help but think how much you wanted him between your legs, which resulted in your hand moving with a little more force and a small whimper leaving your lips.

It was the sound that seemed to bring Bucky back. His eyes left your core to connect with your face and then he was striding over to the bed, the picture of confidence and determination as he reached one hand behind his head and pulled his shirt off effortlessly baring his glorious torso to you.

“Hand, mouth, cock...you ask for it and it’s yours, Doll,” he said in a low growl. “I’m yours.”

Your finger slipped over your slit as you whimpered again and Bucky watched in fascination as one slender digit pressed inside your folds.

“So beautiful...you like teasing me, don’t you, Doll? You like giving me a show?”

You nodded as your body shook slightly. The sound of his voice was pushing you closer and closer to release and you started to buck your hips into your hand slightly as a result.

“I want to watch you. I want to see you make yourself come while you think about me.” His blue eyes were burning into you and your head fell back to the bed on a long moan. “Will you do that for me, beautiful?”

“Yes...fuck, yes Bucky!”

He repositioned himself so that he was near the end of the bed, between your legs and looking up the length of your body. “Let me see you come, Doll.”

How could you refuse when he asked so nicely? You twitched your finger up and pressed against your g-spot just as Bucky reached out with his metal hand to caress your leg. The sensation of the cold digits along with the pressure inside you brought you over the edge and your body shook as pleasure released over you in waves, your back arching and eyes closing as you moaned.

Bucky began kissing slowly up your leg, taking his time and enjoying the slight salty taste that came from the thin sheen of sweat over you. “That,” he planted a kiss between each word, “was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Doll.” He reached your knee and kissed the back of it gently, his teeth nipping lightly and making you moan unexpectedly. No one had ever paid attention to the soft flesh there before but Bucky could already play you like a master. Then his hands were spreading your legs even wider, making room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “I want to see it again.”

Those six words immediately put you back on edge as Bucky grinned up at you wickedly, his azure eyes sparkling before he lowered his mouth to the apex of your thighs and licked a long stripe up your still sensitive folds. He practically growled at the taste as you moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Sweeter than candy, Doll,” he murmured against you before sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips and giving it a sharp flick with his tongue. Bucky began eating you out like a man possessed. He licked and nipped and lapped against you with such fervor you were instantly a writhing mess under him. Moving quickly, the gorgeous man between your legs lifted each thigh and placed them over his shoulders to give himself more access to you, one arm snaking around your hip to hold you down and his other hand went to your core. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you when you felt a cold vibranium finger circling around your entrance teasingly. Bucky smiled against you before beginning to suck on your clit as he eased his digit inside of you. You arched off the bed and mewled helplessly, clutching onto his long locks and pulling slightly which only spurred him on.

“I wanna see it again,” he repeated on a low growl before gently grazing his teeth over your nub as his finger worked in and out steadily, each time brushing over your most sensitive place.

His voice, his actions and that dangerous look in his eye were enough to push you into another orgasm and you came hard, clenching tightly around his finger while yanking on his hair. Bucky didn’t stop his ministrations until you stilled, working you through your pleasure before withdrawing from you. He smiled slightly as you hissed when he pulled his hand away from you. Adjusting himself carefully in his pants, Bucky climbed up the bed and placed his body next to yours, kissing your temple softly. You glanced over at him in confusion.

“Why aren’t you fucking me right now?”

He let out a low chuckle and kissed you again. “I can wait. You look a little tired...and sore.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I have been waiting for you to fuck me since the day that we met. I am not too tired or sore. I am crazy in love with you! Please, please, please!” You knew that you were begging but for the love of god! You needed him to fuck you this minute.

“You-you love me?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that. “Yes, Bucky. I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that-” Suddenly, you felt a little uncomfortable. You thought for sure that Bucky felt the same way about you as you did about him. Were you wrong? “Was this-is this just about sex for you?”

“Wha-NO!” Bucky shot up in bed next to you, his face alarmed. “Of course not, Doll! I was coming in here to tell you that I’m in love with you and beg you to be my girl when I found you all laid out and looking delectable. You’re everything I want in this life.”

A small giggle left you and you cuddle up against him. “Is that so?”

“Sure as hell is, Doll.” He twisted a piece of your hair around his finger and kissed your forehead lightly. “So will you? Be my girl?”

“I’ve been your girl for months, Buck, but we can make if official,” you replied with a smirk.

Bucky leaned down and brought his lips to yours kissing you with all the passion and love that was threatening to burst from his overflowing chest, his hand cupping your jaw and moving you into the perfect angle that allowed him to deepen the kiss. “Just think, Doll, now you never need to set an alarm again.”

You gave a small scoff. “Bucky, I told FRIDAY to cancel every alarm I had the day you came in here to wake me up. Who needs them when I have my very own rooster?” Your hands began to trail over his muscular chest. “Say, ya know what another word for a rooster is?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smirked at you as your hand descended to his belt buckle.

“Cock!”

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[phantomphangphucker]

Wild Masters - Chap. 5: From Rags To Riches

Vlad shows his face, queue a lot of snark and an exasperated Flynn.

Danny turns to the lab stairway, “I’ll get it”, glancing at everyone as he starts heading up, “I’ll holler if it’s Vladdie!”. His dad gives an excited double thumbs up.

Sticking his head around the kitchen entryway into the living room confirms that it is indeed Vlad, in his pompous ass suit and now staring at him looking extremely supremely unimpressed. Danny snickers at him before walking into the living room proper, sticking his hands in his pockets, “sup, vampy. Come to see your brat? He’s twenty-four by the way so don’t bother trying to groom him into your prime villain protege or anything. Also-”, snicker, “-he doesn’t how to read, so there’s that”.

Vlad glares, “you must be joking”. Making Danny snort, “I fucking wish actually, he doesn’t know what a cellphone is. What twenty-something doesn’t know fucking cellphones? He’s probably never seen a meme before. The horror”. Vlad rolls his eyes as he steps in, “yes, that is certainly the biggest issue with that problem. I’m sure”.

Danny gives a very cheeky, “yup”, before turning his head to shout towards the lab door, “HEY YO FLYNN! IT’S VLADDIE! GET UP AND GREET YOUR POMPOUS-PAPPIE”. Turning to look back to Vlad, who has decided to grace him with a flash of his red ‘scary eyes’. Oh how rare and bless-ed he must be today to get a glimpse of those ruby reds. Note: he was being sarcastic as fuck there, green eyes are way better anyway. So there.

Flynn steps only halfway out from the doorway, leaving half of himself hidden but making his staff absolutely fully visible and just stares at Vlad. It’s actually vaguely creepy.

Vlad stares back.

And Danny just looks rapidly back and forth between them. “Whelp, this is just a touch awkward”.

Flynn huffs and continues staring.

Danny pulls out his phone and waves it around, “these things come with a timer, you know. So I can totally just start that up and you two can make this dick measuring contest genuine”, pointing at both of them, “or we can talk like good little adults”. Flynn glances at him, “shorty”; making Vlad smirk at Danny’s expense. Danny frowns in fake offence, “hey”. But at least that gets Vlad to tug on his suit jacket to straighten it and step forward to actually greet Flynn, so hey, it’s something.

Sure Vlad’s form of ‘greeting’ is looking the half of Flynn that he can actually see over and giving a snide, “well at least you’ve got some build on you”. Which Danny rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over, “wow, way to be a dick, frootloop”. Vlad side-eyes him, “I’m still debating your demise”. Danny throws back a very apathetic and unaffected, “mmm okay”. Resulting in him having to dodge a very half-hearted swipe from the man and bounce out of Vlad's easy arm reach, “gotta be quicker on your toes, old man”, smirking, “what? that old age catchin’ up to ya?”, vaguely dancing over to Flynn and grabbing his Minotaur shawl thing, yanking him fully into the kitchen, “and get fully in here you, and face your maker”.

Flynn glares and huffs at him. Expected. Half the sounds the guy makes seem to involve either huffing or grunting. Wonderful sign of some serious lack of socialisation right there. Vlad’s rich asshole circles are going to love him so fucking much. Just like how they love Danny. Once again, note the generous helping of sarcasm he is mentally pilling on there.

Turning to look at Vlad and holding out the photo of alternate Vlad with alternate Maddie, “anyway, proof ‘cause I know you just love that stick that you’ve shoved so far up your ass you might as well be a popsicle”. Vlad leans forward, inspecting, and blinks vaguely disbelievingly. Danny rolls his eyes at the man not touching the photo, “let me guess, this has been in my pocket and is thus too dirty for you to sully your hands with?”. Vlad nods at him quickly with a smug smirk before straightening back up, “though the atrocity that I’m wearing in that deserves to be surrounded by the filth that fills your pockets”.

Flynn blinks, “yah, yer rivals. Tho figured ya’d be evenly matched”, looking to Danny -though Danny’s pretty sure this guy is trying to just play off the whole ‘meeting my dad for the first time in fourteen years and instead of being a dad the guy shit talks my half-brother’- Flynn points at Vlad while speaking at Danny, “ya could end ‘im. Don’ end my pa tho”.

Danny sputters and bends over wheezing while Vlad looks offended, “hear that vampy?!? He’s saying you’re weak!”.

Flynn instantly jumps to his defence, “‘s not that he’s weak. Ya’re jus... excessive”. Making Danny snicker, “can’t argue that”, because yeah Danny knows he’s over-fucking-powered. That’s kinda what happens when you’re the literal King of the entire Realm of the dead and all the ghosts therein. Regardless Danny keeps laughing and slaps his knee repeatedly. Which Vlad scoffs at, “get ahold of yourself, my boy”.

Danny can hear the raised eyebrow in Flynn’s voice, “‘my boy’?”. Danny looks up as Vlad huffs at Flynn, “yes I guess it would be rather rude of me to be calling Daniel that with you here”. Danny snorts, “like you care about rude, Mr. Plots Others Demise Directly In Front Of Their Faces”. Vlad waves a dismissive hand at Danny, “their intellect and worth is beneath me to care. Family has at least earned some level of attention from me. You should know that by now”.

“Still not your son”.

Flynn grunts, “an I am. Ya might be ‘ore stuck up than my ya”, then Flynn smirks and Danny has a feeling the guy is gonna say something that’ll piss Vlad off, “makes sense wit name like Plasmius”. Oh yeah, Vlad’s gonna be mad.

Vlad snaps his angry red eyes on Danny, sounding more than just slightly violently angry, “you told him”. Danny just bends over further and wheezes. Flynn pokes Vlad’s chest aggressively with the tip of his staff, “back back, no fightin’ in food room place”. Danny just wheezes more at that, “Ancients, it’s called a kitchen, man. Oh Zone”. Flynn grunts, glares, and removes his staff from Vlad’s chest to smack Danny over the head with it. “Ow”. Sure that didn’t actually hurt but it’s the point of the matter.

He can hear Flynn’s scowl, while the guy looks back to Vlad, “an ‘sides, I’d know what ya are any way”, gesturing the staff tip around Vlad’s body while Vlad quirks an eyebrow at him, clearly more curious about Flynn than pissed at Danny. “Can sense it ‘round ya an smell it on ya’s clothes. Yain’t all human. ‘Ore human than tha red one wit her suit on tho”.

Danny straightens up and brushes off his pants, snickering, “yeah he knows about Valerie too, surprise knowledge. Did you not notice his glowing green ass eyes?”. Watching Vlad squint and hum at Flynn, who just sits and lets Vlad stare at and analyse his eyes, “hmmm so you can see my ecto-field then?”. Flynn shrugs, “‘ore er less”. Danny chuckles, “you could say that that ‘bout sums it up”. Flynn looks to him and squints, “not addin’ anythin’”. Making Danny facepalm, “it’s another saying, man”. And Vlad actually has to turn to the side and sigh into his hand, it looks like the man is having a very hard time not insulting Flynn repeatedly and in ever-increasingly deeming ways; huh, guess he was willing to actually try to not be a complete and utter dick to his own son. That earns him a few points in the ‘not the definition of evil’ category.

Vlad looks back after a steadying breath, “be that as it may, I’d rather you not divulge my ghostly status to anyone. Flynn was it?”. Flynn squints, “that’s my name, ya”, looking to the side and huffing, though not letting Vlad out of his sights, “an I won’”, looking fully back to Vlad and sighing before just slowly poking the man with a finger. Both Danny and Vlad elect to merely watch and see what this previously non-existent Zone nomad will do next; Danny’s just glad his folks stayed downstairs or this entire meeting would be a bajillion times awkwarder. Danny wouldn’t be able to make such blatant jabs at Vlad, Flynn wouldn’t be able to discuss anyone’s ghostliness, Vlad wouldn’t be able to even be in the ballpark of honest.

Flynn pokes Vlad again, muttering, “yer real”. Alright, okay, the whole ‘here’s your father’ thing might have just hit the guy properly now. Vlad tilts his head ever so slightly, “indeed”; and Danny suddenly feels like he’s intruding on a very personal and private moment or something.

This is too much for Danny. Danny shoots both his arms out to the side and smacks both of the men on the back to smush them together, “ugh! Just hug already goddamnit!”. Both Vlad and Flynn sputter and cough, screwing up their faces; but they immediately separate and effectively turn their backs on each other.

“Don’ do ‘hugs’”.

“Neither do I for that matter”.

Danny practically growls, “oh for fucks sake”, and just telekinetically maneuvers them into forcibly embracing each other: which predictably and obviously gets him a pink ecto-beam straight to the face hard enough to send him crashing out the kitchen window immediately after he cuts it out. Flynn also pelts him with a rock, but that’s not exactly something that would cause Danny any notable kind of damage; though he is kinda curious where the rock came from.

At least they fucking hugged. Mission accomplished.

He can hear Vlad huff, “anyway. Now that Daniel’s finished being his insufferable self, I imagine you rather need legal documents. Since I doubt you exist in the legal system”. Flynn just huffs so Vlad continues, “right then”. Danny can’t help snickering to himself as he lies in a pile of rubble and some bushes when Vlad speaks up again actually sounding ever so slightly befuddled, “it would seem you already do”.

Flynn sounds slightly more befuddled, “what”. So Danny takes that as his queue to crawl back in through the shattered window, “oh yeah, blame Tuck. Dude probably preempted what I would have eventually asked him to do and just did it before I asked him to”, grinning smugly at the two men, “yeah my friends are awesome like that”, looking to Vlad specifically, “sure is nice to have genuine friends, eh Vladdie?”; Vlad points at him with a scowl and shoots a small ecto-beam. Danny doesn’t bother blocking or even moving and just lets himself get knocked back into the rubble/bush.

Flynn blinks, “... Red girl was ‘ight, do ya know tha word ‘dodge’ at all, shorty”. Vlad makes a sound that is almost a laugh.

“Hey”. Flynn shakes his head and Vlad smirks as Danny scramble crawls back in through the window, “I will have you know-”, grunt, “-I took that hit for comical effect”, landing on the floor with a not so graceful ‘oof’ before righting himself to be cross-legged and looking up at the two men, “and if anything is gonna get me hurt then it better be my terrible sense of comedy”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “at least you know it’s terrible and unpleasant”. Danny points at him, “my name’s a literal pun, of course it’s terrible. Not unpleasant though. Also-”, holding up a finger and grabbing out his phone to quickly scroll through it, “-and yup! Tuck hacked the gov! Man my main man really should scare the government more or at least enough for them to properly put him on a watch list or two, geez”.

Flynn blinks, “ya lost me”, while Danny pockets his phone. Vlad also blinks. Okay wow there are similarities here and it’s kinda freaking Danny just a tiny bit, it’s creepy alright. Vlad shakes his head at Danny, “you can let your tech boy know that for once he has impressed me”. Danny grins slightly manically, whips out his phone, goes to the voice memos app, and holds it up ready to record, “care to repeat that?”, grin never faltering. Vlad sighs into his hand, sounding truly and exaggeratedly pained, “Tucker, you have impressed me”. Danny cheers, “yes!”, quietly to himself while double fist-pumping.

Flynn shakes his head and mutters, “ghosts”. Probably deciding that this behaviour is very befitting of ghosts, which yeah is probably true. Least Flynn just seems amused by it rather than annoyed like Danny’s folks would be. Vlad seems to agree as he sighs and side-eyes Flynn, “at least you seem unbothered by our more... ghostly behaviours, most humans get put-off just enough to make them rather unsuitable for any kind of close relations”.

That gets Danny to inhumanly quickly jump to his feet, startling Flynn enough to get that staff pointed at him as he near shouts excitedly, “did you just admit you can’t make friends!”, pointing animatedly at Vlad, “I’ve spotted character development!”. Vlad just glares at him, which is fair, while Flynn relaxes his stance. Danny sticks his hands back in his pockets and relaxes against the countertop, “anyway, since you’ve apparently given Flynn here your fatherly approval -congrats on the kid by the way, what should I bring to the baby shower?- you gonna stick him as your heir instead me now. Pretty please?”, and gives an overly innocent smile.

Vlad sighs, “I’m going to murder you”, and shakes his head, “you’re the High King, of course not, I’ve certainly got to keep you in my relations somehow”, grinning smugly, “I can certainly have two heirs. I don’t see why not. Try as I might, you know how I am quite a greedy man”. Danny snorts because that’s bullshit, Vlad absolutely doesn’t try to not be greedy; but well... when possession is your Obsession... Danny chuckles, “and try as I might, I just can’t keep that hero complex down. Guess I’ve just gotta keep an eye on your dealings with Flynn here, huh old man?”. After all, when protection is your Obsession...

Flynn promptly smacks both of them with his staff, “Obsession posturin’”. Danny rubs his head and grumbles incoherently. Vlad acts like nothing happened, instead insulting Danny’s behaviour, “well don’t you sound kingly”. Danny flips him off. Vlad looks to Flynn, ignoring Danny entirely, “regardless, you’ll definitely be my heir too. Whether you want to be or not”.

Danny snorts, “I don’t think you need to threaten the guy to be your son, vampy, geez. Would it kill ya to be nice?”. Vlad grins, “yes”; which Danny rolls his eyes at. Flynn huffs and shakes his head, “heir’s some money thing, he’s my pa not money loan”. Danny blinks, surprised the guy knows what a money loan even is. Chuckling, “eh heir’s kinda the best you get from old Vladdie here”, and jabs a thumb at Vlad.

Vlad scowls, “that is because you keep snubbing me and refusing to renounce your fool of a father, Daniel”, side-eyeing Flynn, “Flynn doesn’t seem to have that particular issue”, and then gives Flynn a truly stiff and awkward head pat. Flynn looks like he’s judging him heavily for that, “I’m stayin’ ‘ere. I don’ trust ya”. Danny coughs and laughs while Vlad jerks and looks like he just got stabbed clear through the heart and Core. Ouch Vladdie, looks like someone got snubbed again. Tough luck, try not being evil next time. Or maybe it was the awkward head pat that did it?

All three flinch or jump at Jack’s sudden excited, “yes!”, while popping out from the lab doorway, practically shoving Vlad out of the kitchen, and very quickly side-hugging Flynn who very obviously stiffens and shrinks away from the contact. Oh shit, how long have his folks been there?!? Fuck. His mom also giggles from the doorway and walks in giving Flynn a sweet smile while pulling Jack off him, “as we said, there’s definitely room for you here”. Flynn just nods slightly while slowly relaxing as Maddie pushes Jack out of the room to go clean the spare room upstairs with her. Danny, meanwhile, is busy side-eyeing Vlad as the man borderline flat-out snarls at Jack’s receding form.

Flynn stares at Vlad himself, muttering lowly at Danny, “he hates ‘im. He really really hates ‘im”. Danny sighs and watches the deep violent hatred shining in Vlad’s eyes, “yeah, yeah he really does”, frowning and probably sounding sadder than he really means to, “I wish that wasn’t how things were. Everything would be a lot different”; because really? If Vlad didn’t despise his father, the two only natural halfas in existence would probably get along. Maybe be genuine family or healthy rivals even. Instead of the weird toxic degrading bantering archenemy thing they’ve got going on and have been actively -and mutually, if he’s being honest with himself- fuelling. Maybe, maybe, that mentor/apprentice situation, that Vlad dreamed of and Danny had needed, could have became reality; but that ship has long since past. In Danny’s more introspective and thoughtful moments, he mourned that fact. Part of him hoped Vlad acknowledged and mourned that fact too, instead of just feeling bitter and ripped off. Maybe. Hopefully.

Flynn frowns at him, “yer ghosts an yer humans. Act like it”. Danny blinks at him, “uh, I don’t think you exactly know how humans act. No offence”. Flynn huffs at him, “am one, know ‘nough”.

“Uh, I’m not gonna agree with you on that one”, glaring slightly and whispering, “also, sssshhhh about the ghost shit, man”. Flynn rolls his eyes and promptly catches Danny off-guard, “an I’m keepin’ tha Masters name”. Danny chokes slightly, well damn; Vlad’s gonna get an ego boost from that.

Vlad, having of course heard -damn you ghost ears- snaps his head around and grins triumphantly at Danny then approvingly at Flynn. “Flynn Masters”, grinning smugly at Danny again, “might just have a better ring than Daniel Masters”.

Danny snorts and rolls his eyes, “if you’re trying to make me jealous it ain’t gonna work”, snickering, “but FM, like FM radio”. Now Danny’s wearing the smug look while Vlad glares at him. Danny finger guns at Vlad as he starts walking towards the steps, “now how about I let the Masters caspers not have to be actors due to me being one of the present factors while y’all deal with your family matters”, saluting, “so seeya later gangsters”. Vlad’s left eye twitches, “I will murder you, boy”.

Flynn blinks and looks to Vlad, “he always like this?”. Vlad sighs and nods, “unfortunately”, shaking his head, “he certainly has a taste for puns and word games, I think it’s born from some form of a sadistic side”. Flynn huffs, “dramatic”, huffing again, “an I need a drink aftar all yer ghostin’, pa”, and uncaps his liquor bottle for a swig. Earning raised eyebrows from Vlad and the same lean over sniff that Danny did, “ahh, you’re a fan of alcohol”.

“Make mine own”.

Vlad nods approvingly, “I've dabbled in the art of wine making myself in my spare time”. Flynn offers his drink earning him a quirked eyebrow from Vlad, who of course tries some. Leaving him humming to himself and tapping his chin, “you’ve been at this for a while. You might be a son of mine yet”.

Flynn huffs, “‘ere I thought we ‘ready established that. Yer my pa. Pas that”. They were, in fact, already past that. Vlad just rolls his eyes but pulls a flask out of his pocket and offers it to the guy, “here. Since you’re a Masters, you drink whiskey like a Masters”. And Flynn talking a swig from that is what Danny walks back downstairs to, “so what y’all talking about?”.

Vlad turns to him, “just how you were going to apologise for your years of abuse to me all in the name of brotherly love”.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all”. Danny then blinks at them, with Flynn lowering the flask and shrugging at. Danny throws a slight glare at Vlad, “really? I leave for what? ten minutes? and you start boozing the guy up? Really?”, muttering more so to himself, “I mean sure, Flynn started drinking after ten minutes, or whatever, of meeting me. But still”. Vlad smirks some, “yes, being around you for any prolonged period of time could drive anyone to drink. Why, the first thing I did after meeting you was drink”.

“That’s because dad assaulted your prized football, you going senile on me?”.

Flynn glares at Danny and takes another swig of the whiskey flask, which Vlad looks oddly triumphant over; especially considering Danny just insulted him. Flynn shrugs again and side-eyes Vlad, “eh, mine’s bettar”. Vlad waves him off, “you just don’t have a taste for it yet”, tapping his chin, “though yes, yours is quite good”.

Danny blinks, “did the Vlad Masters just genuinely compliment someone without it being backhanded or a thinly veiled threat? Shocked! Betrayed! Dismayed! The horror!”, tilting his head, wait a fucking minute, “wait, did you drink Flynn’s stuff? You know that’s ectoplasm in there, right?”. Flynn grunts, “well he does now”. Vlad blinks and Danny is detecting just a hint of shock there; Vlad is also clearly eyeing Flynn’s liquor hip bottle with a fair bit more appreciation now. Flynn making a disgusted face kinda cuts off Vlad’s appreciation though and Danny feels like he’s getting a flashback to that time Tucker had to eat all those blood blossoms. “Are you gonna throw up?”.

Vlad scowls, crosses his arms, and sticks his nose up in the air, “of course not, a Masters can handle his liquor”. Danny rolls his eyes while telekinetically moving a trashcan over to Flynn, “I don’t think that’s the problem here”.

Both of them look down as Flynn just kinda sits on the floor, puts his staff to the side, and throws up; at least he aims into the bucket instead of onto the floor. “Congrats Vlad, I think you just poisoned him”. Danny furrows his eyebrows a bit though when Vlad actually holds his hands out, bends down, and pats the guy on the back. Okay... guess Vlad’s being decent... Danny doesn’t actually know what to do with that. Ah the fact that he doesn’t know what to do with Vlad acting like a decent human being is probably actually concerning, come to think of it. So Danny does the logical thing and slaps himself across the face.

Vlad gives Flynn a not awkward head pat this time, “there there, just get it out of your system”, he hums, “I am rather surprised though, two sips isn’t exactly much”.

Danny sighs and taps his chin, “well when you consider the fact that he’s lived off nothing but ectoplasmic fauna and flora, makes sense that his body would kinda have forgotten how to fucking digest human food you stupid nutcase. Geez, for a guy who plays chess you’re not very smart”. Vlad looks back to him and glares slightly, “I’m surprised you know that. Did you actually pay attention in health class for once?“. Danny rolls his eyes at that particular jab, “one of my friends only eats plants and one only eats meat, what do you think happens every time some bull crap happens where they have to break their diets?”.

Regardless Danny sighs some and bends down next to Vlad and Flynn, joining Vlad in the back-patting/rubbing. Snickering at the guy some though because people taking you too seriously or being all nice ‘n shit when you’re throwing your guts up was more embarrassing than helpful, “maybe don’t eat or drink shit without ecto in it, yeah?”.

Flynn grunts, expected, “ßhût üp, ßhørtŷ”. Making Danny and Vlad blink, Vlad grins like an idiot while Danny chuckles, “huh, guess you speak ghost. Though talk about a thick accent there, Ancients”. Vlad shoves Danny head, which Danny let’s knock him over on the ground, “it’s͢ ͘q͟u͘i͜te͞ ͞a̕ ̧useful ̡sk̛i̡l̡l͜,̡ ͜why I̕ thi͡nk he̕’s m͏o͠re f͏l̴u̸e̵nt͠ tha͏n҉ ͜yo̶u, Dan̕i̵eļ”. Danny stays laying on the ground, “I’m̕ ̸a̡ na͏t͠iv̵e spea̡k̷ȩr, so̧ ̛I̕ ͠don̕’̡t͞ ̡th̶ink̷ so”.

Flynn leans back, pushes away the bucket, and puts his arms on his knees, “ÿæ ßtåŷįñ’ thërë¿“. Danny nods with a grin from the floor and gives a thumbs up, earning a head shake from Flynn.

All three snap their heads to the kitchen entranceway as feet pound down the steps and Maddie and Jack come barging in, everyone then looking to the lab door as Jazz pushes it open while dusting off her pants and grumbling, “I so do not envy Danny having to clean that all the time”, pausing and looking up around everyone before zeroing in on three people sitting/laying on the floor, “Flynn! Danny! What happened!”, and runs over while glaring at and obviously blaming Vlad, who stands and readjusts his suit like he’s embarrassed to be caught caring. Well get caught by anyone other than Danny anyway; which makes sense ‘cause Vlad would probably be all caring about Danny if Danny wasn’t, you know, not evil.

Danny rolls over onto his back, looking at Jazz, “guess who can’t stomach human stuff?”, and jabs a thumb towards Flynn while Maddie rushes over and helps Flynn stand. Well okay, Flynn mostly waves off said help and stands up on his own, but still; Flynn also promptly grabs up his staff again. That staff’s probably some kind of comfort item for the guy.

Jack laughs as he comes to stand next to Vlad, “guess we’ll be cooking with a lot more ecto!”. Danny can practically feel malicious intent wafting of Vlad. Flynn grunting, “I’m ‘ine”. Which Maddie looks at him sweetly over and Jazz shakes her head at, “well let’s move into the living room anyway. Then you-”, glaring at Flynn, “-can sit down, and we can all hear what happened to you”. Vlad nods and hums, “yes I would like to know how I acquired a son from another timeline that’s been living nomadically in the Ghost Zone”.

Jack laughs as they all walk into the living room, “yup! Most we know is that some darn ghosty called Misery Vex took you at some point!”. Maddie and Jazz watching Flynn with slight worry as they walk. Danny just eyes Vlad to see if Vlad shows even the slightest amount of recognition regarding this ‘Misery Vex’, he doesn’t -fuck Danny’s luck- but Danny can’t exactly expect the man to know of every ghost ever. Regardless Danny skips over, puts his hands behind his back and sticks his face next to Vlad’s, “guessin’ you don’t know who that is either?”. Vlad scowls, “‘fraid not, but when I find them, and I will, I’m going to make them beg me to end them and then I’m going to find out how good ghost skin is at reupholstering my dining room chairs”.

Danny blinks, “I forgot there was a reason you and Skulker got along. Also, I doubt you have the skill set to be skinning anyone. Also also, I’m amazed you care that much”, and smirks.

“Must you mock me so, boy”.

Danny grins, “well.., how would you like me to mock you? I’ll hear your requests”, shrugging, “sure I might ignore them, but I’ll certainly hear them”. And finally flops to sit down on the love seat, Vlad sitting next to him with scowl. Jazz opts to sit with Maddie and Jack on the couch, while Flynn takes the chair; got to give the loner nomad his personal space after all.

Flynn huffs, “yeah, Vex’s is tha one that pulled me in ta tha Infinite Realm”. Jack doesn’t give him a chance to say more, tilting his head, “is that what ghosts call the Ghost Zone?!?”. Danny and Vlad both quietly sigh into their hands. Flynn squints at the large man, “ya nevar asked ‘em?”.; at least Maddie and Jack have the decency to look sheepish. Flynn squints more, “it’s what it’s called. Propar name”. Danny chuckles and waves Flynn off, “eh, then Zone can be slang”, ‘Zone’ was in fact common slang. Flynn rolls his eyes.

Vlad sighs quietly again, “linguistics aside, was there a reason Vex took you? And I’m just to assume you’re in this timeline purely due to your old one ceasing to exist”. Which Danny mutters, “duh”, at. Everyone ignores him as Flynn shrugs, “don’ know, like I’ve said ‘ready, ain’t stickin’ ‘round half spider creature-”. Danny’s wondering if the guy’s getting tired of explaining that. “-bark armour wasn’ friendly lookin’ eithar”.

Danny eyes Flynn’s bark armour, “guess yours doesn’t make you look all that approachable either”. With Maddie jumping in, “did you get that idea from It?”. Making Flynn blink at her before looking to Danny, “I did say Vex’s a lady, ‘ight?”. Danny nods but Jazz is the one to audibly sigh, drawing Flynn’s attention as she talks, “yes but-”, side-eyeing her parents, “-ghosts don’t get pronouns”.

Maddie rolls her eyes not unkindly, “now honey, we’ve talked about this, ghosts aren’t sentient or complex enough to understand gender and we don’t call plants ‘he’ or ‘she’-”. Danny coughs into his hand, “Sam does, you know”; which goes ignored. Maddie continuing, “-so why would we do so for ghosts? It would be like assigning gender to lightning”. Danny sighs internally, and he bets both Jazz and Vlad do as-well.

Flynn just stares at her for a while before blinking, “moron-”. Danny has the distinct feeling his folks are going to be hearing Flynn calling them ‘morons’ an awful lot. “-they have preferances. Blobs are no gendar, not tha Cored”. Vlad sighs dramatically, “what does gender have to do with my son's abduction”. Danny chuckles to himself faintly, guess Vladdie really grabbed onto the whole ‘I have a son’ thing with absolute confidence. Made sense. Ancients if Danny accepted him then the man probably wouldn’t stop using the word ‘son’ at every possible opportunity for a solid month.

Jack laughs almost awkwardly and scratches his head, “nothing! I guess”. Vlad scowls at him.

Flynn clears his throat, “well she-”. Nice passive-aggressiveness going on there. “-couldn’ ‘xactly follow me aftar I slippin’ inta some rock crag”, grunting, “ghost can’ go through rocks ‘n what not there”. Jack looks like he’s physically restraining himself from peppering Flynn with questions about that. Danny thinks this should be obvious though, since ghosts not being able to phase through ectoplasmic constructs/formations is literally how ghost shields worked. Like, duh.

Vlad just nods with a hum, “so you’ve been on your own since?”; which Flynn nods at. Maddie huffs, “I’m amazed the ghost didn’t chase you down”; Flynn shrugs, clearly not about to claim to understand why himself. Which yeah, abducting a kid through a portal seemed like a lot of effort to put in to just turn around and let the human run away; probably thought that this random human child wouldn’t be able to effectively avoid capture or survive on his own. Well surprise mother fucker! Flynn’s a Fenton -well a Masters too but whatever- being able to handle ghost shit is in his genes.

Danny decides to ask something that’s actually mildly important for him to know, “so bark armour and the lower half of a spider, anything else?”. His mom quirks an eyebrow at him so Danny elaborates/makes up an excuse, “wouldn’t it be good to know what a ghost that may come after him looks like?”. Earning an approving hum from her. Danny’s more interested in Vlad muttering to himself, “an Arachne then”; sweet, he’s got a species now.

Flynn grunts, “purpal skin, lotsa black eyes, bare bark crown-”. Danny almost chokes at that and he’s sure Vlad at least went slightly wide-eyed, because crown implied royalty. Which just great, that meant Danny was going to have to deal with whoever all kingly and shit. “-an clothes were shinebettle, I think-”. So basically shiny latex leather? Alright, that’s a look. “-an wendigo mane pelt ovar spidar half-”. Well that all but confirms Danny’s suspicions that Vex is from or at least frequents the FairLands. The only wendigo’s that didn’t just turn to ectoplasmic ash when destroyed were the faebeast ones. Hooray for having to probably go see Oberon. “-She had a fauchard ta”. Danny nods to himself.

Jack taps his chin, “that still doesn’t explain why though”, earning shrugs all around. Jack grinning, “we should hunt Vex down and find out!”. Which Vlad actually grins at, “yes, you go do that”. Danny kicking the man subtly and whispering, “Vlad no. Bad”, he knows the only reasons Vlad’s encouraging that is ‘cause his folks might torture the ghost and because the ghost might harm/kill Jack.

Maddie shakes her head and chastises Jack, “you’ll be doing no such thing, we don’t know the Zone is actually safe”, glancing at Flynn, “regardless of Flynn’s survival. Flukes happen”. Danny thinks it would make way more sense to guess it's safer than they thought than to just assume Flynn got lucky. But hey! At least he doesn’t have to worry as much that his folks are just going to run wild in the Zone anytime soon.

Vlad rolls his eyes though speaks somewhat sweetly, “dear Maddie, always being the voice of reason”. Maddie grimaces, and Flynn glances between them with a slight frown. Vlad digs in his pocket when his ringer goes off though. Speaking up after reading the screen, “seems some of the underlings are too moronic to deal with some problem alone”, looking up to everyone, “so I must be taking my leave now”, and stands up.

Jack jumping up, “well we can finish up Flynn’s room and he can join us after you’ve said your goodbyes! Wouldn’t want to interrupt that!”, and laughs. Maddie smiling sweetly and following him once again upstairs. Jazz sighs and moves to follow them, “I’ll make sure they didn’t get carried away”; while Danny just stretches and lounges out across the loveseat. Watching Vlad talk down at the still seated Flynn.

“I guess I’ll have to leave dealing with this Misery Vex in your and young Daniel’s hands. I don’t particularly have time to deal with petty ghost squabbles”, side-eyeing Danny, “he’s quite experienced with those though, so I doubt he’ll fail to be an effective meat-shield if needed”.

Flynn rolls his eyes, “I don’ care ta ‘deal with’ her at all. ‘Ine as is”. While Danny snorts at Vlad, “Ancients, you’re such a fucking pissant”.

Earning squinting from Vlad, “I’m the mayor and one of the richest people in the world”, huffing, “and I’m nothing to scoff at power-wise”.

“You are staying that... to the literal king... of death”. Danny smirks, “I’m fucking lucifer, bitch”. Vlad and Flynn blink and stare at him. Danny rubs his neck, “eh, too much?”. They both nod slightly. And there the similarities go being creepy again. Vlad shakes his head slowly, looking back to Flynn, “ignoring that, you can contact me for anything. Particularly if you decide being here isn’t worth the effort or annoyance”, and pats Flynn’s head, “you’ll want for nothing regardless”, making shooing motions at him, “now run along and help your mother and sister stop that imbecile from installing an anti-ghost auto-detection machine gun on your ceiling or some other nonsense”. Danny vaguely hates that his dad might actually do that. Though he’s surprised that Flynn actually does as he’s told with only a mild amount of suspicious squinting. Maybe he’s tired of Vlad’s existence? Doubtful but Danny can hope. Probably more likely the guy just wanted to get closer to being able to have some alone time, and room set up was an effective way to do that.

Danny waits till Flynn disappears upstairs to speak up, “hey Vlad?”. Vlad doesn’t even look back at him, instead just staring up the stairs, “hmmm?”.

“Don’t fuck this up. You know, like you always do”. Danny glares seriously at Vlad as he goes to stand up and Vlad actually looks to him with a quirked eyebrow, “but if you ever hurt him you won’t need to wonder where your god is anymore, because he’s coming for you and he’ll be fresh outta mercy”, squinting, “all these fucks will have flown off, never to return again. And you will be left crippled, withered, dried up and crapped on. At the bottom of a shitty little well where people will throw out their rotten fruit down on you and the remnants of your shitty little life”, glaring more, “we clear”. Vlad nods a bit stiffly; after all, when the king orders something or warns you, you fucking listen. Danny decides to really hammer it home though, “the fucking heat death of the universe will not be able to even approach the level of damage that the amount of fucks I will no longer give will cause you. What I’m saying is, I wouldn’t mind tearing out a length of your intestines, rolling it in a pan, sprinkling on some nice cinnamon and maybe some raisins. You know, for texture and a little added surprise. Then sliding it right into the oven for a nice little cinnamon bun”, chuckling meanly, “there’s even some icing pre-made in the fridge. So I’m all ready to go, bitch. Then I could use your hollowed-out torso to ride you like a meat toboggan. I’m sure your fucking intestines could be utilised as perfectly fine ropes to control my descent down the bloody snow-covered hill all the way into the depths of madness that you were birthed from years ago”.

“Daniel... you’ve made your point”, Vlad actually sounds slightly disturbed. Danny rolls his eyes and puts his hand in his pockets, “yeah well, so long as you don’t go making god sacrificing his only son look like a good parenting technique”.

“I... won’t”.

Danny pats Vlad on the arm, “good talk then”, and finger guns before heading upstairs, “and I’m still not your fam, frootloop”. Vlad just scowls at him and leaves, closing the door slightly louder than necessary. Return to normalcy achieved.

[lafortis]

ok anon, i found way less content for this than i would have liked tbh, but here’s my best shot:

stretches for plus sized people/people with limited mobility! 

tl;dr: scroll down and look for my tl;dr marker

these all aren’t perfect to varying degrees of course, but i’m working with the material i got here

https://www.braceability.com/blogs/articles/exercises-for-overweight-knee-pain

this has helpful gifs and easy step by step guides for each exercise, but it’s focused mostly on knee pain relief. it does include some measure of stretch for the entire lower body tho pretty much, and a couple exercises too, which, i’m not quite sure why they’re there, but whatever

ok i was gonna link a couple of old dudes who seemed nice (if their audio was maybe a little shitty) but they were basically just trying to sell you things with like some measure of decent advice so that’s what i get for trusting the science/physio side of the internet

it’s yoga time mfer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnjJdJitPw

here’s a yoga video for bigger bodies that’s ~25 minutes long. it’s obviously a routine so it’s not as easily digestible but like i said, working with what i’ve got here

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGVC_BN3QVo

here’s a similar video FOR MEN, which like, is dumb, but fuck it if this is what you need to start doin it then more power to you. also he desperately needs softer studio walls or some sound proofing or to move his headset mic closer to his mouth but whatever it’s not terrible you probably won’t notice and i’m just being a bitch

FITNESS YOUTUBERS GET BETTER PRODUCTION VALUE CHALLENGE

OH CHRIST THIS IS AWFUL

ok so i found by far the best resource for this and this guide could basically just be reduced to this page, but i’ve already written the rest of it so it’s staying damnit. unfortunately these women have by far the worst audio of the bunch. the first couple vids in their playlist are only in the left channel. another one i clicked is fucking barely audible for the room echo. one is just room noise practically. FUCK. goddamnit. ok anyway for purely practical purposes they will be completely fine :) her channel is Curvy Yoga on youtube, this seems like a choice playlist for just individual stretch content:

tl;dr: just read from here

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVvl6g2UgDs3msRZ7M8r6ykUskFyQOm8N

the essence of it is normal yoga with modifications and substitutions to the normal exercises, but unfortunately their freebies page links appear to be broken, so here is an archive.org link with links that DO in fact still work, at least the ones i’ve tried so far

https://web.archive.org/web/20190222203836/http://www.curvyyoga.com/freebies/

her new gig appears to be an online studio membership kinda dealio so most of the better content is behind the membership now, but there’s still 3 free classes at https://curvyyoga.studio/catalog

ANYWAY i think that should be good! that women has more then enough content to keep anyone fuelled for a while :) hope this helps anon and any plus sized followers in need of flexibility/pain relief stretches