#blues brothers fandom wake up i’m here to feed you

[chipou-art]

Still on a mission from god 😎🫡 I love the Blues Brothers so much it’s unreal (the last ones are prompts from @/jakeandelwoodblues ! As a Blues Brothers fan their blog is like a gold mine to me)

[forasecondtherewedwon]

hey I loved what you wrote for sarahbucky! You are so talented. I was wondering if you are comfortable writing any NSFW content or smut related content for this pairing? If you are I would love you to write something, anything of the sort. If you're not comfortable that's absolutely fine!!

Chasing Water Pumps

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: E Word Count: 5288

Summary: After banishing Sam, Sarah gets Bucky's help reinstalling the boat's water pump.

The water pump sits there on the dock through the morning. It sits there at midday. In the late afternoon, Bucky laughs when Sam almost falls over it as he walks backwards, waving his hands to guide a reversing pickup truck into position. A neighbour bringing spare lumber so they can replace a few rotting boards on the Wilsons’ boat.

Bucky can see—has been able to see all day—that Sam’s itching to just fix the damn pump back into position. Sam’s conscientious, neat, completing one job before moving on to the next, replacing pliers in the toolbox after rewiring the radio, coiling up the cord of a borrowed drill so no one can trip over it. Leaving a hulking piece of machinery just sitting there is killing him. All because Sarah won’t let him touch it.

For Bucky, watching this claim-staking over an old water pump is hilarious. It’s also something he takes absolutely seriously, backing away from the thing the minute Sarah ordered the two of them to quit tinkering and just leave it alone. He’s got no issue ceding to her authority. Oh, he’ll argue with Sam about other parts of the project, but he’s not gonna push back against Sarah. He’s only here for a couple days and she already won his loyalty by letting him bunk on her couch last night. They might be repairing a boat, but Bucky’s not making any waves.

When the sun starts going down and the helpers from the community start heading home to their suppers, almost as many of them shake Bucky’s hand as Sam’s. Bucky feels really good about that. He likes that they’ve become comfortable with him—many of them slapping his Vibranium shoulder as they take his right hand, like it’s just an arm. He likes the lingering warmth of the day and how it’s dried the back of his shirt where he sweat through it. He likes squinting into the sun to watch the vehicles pull away and seeing Sarah standing there, smiling at him. Cupping a hand above his eyes, he smiles back.

“Alright,” Sam says, taking a big step to bring him from boat to land. “Let’s get this water pump back in place.”

Immediately, Sarah comes forward.

“Uh uh, no. That’s not your job.”

“This whole thing is my job,” her brother protests.

Bucky stands on the sidelines, content to witness Sam lose this argument. Getting to study the way the sinking, burning glow of the sun catches on Sarah’s earrings is the equivalent of being handed an ice cream. The breeze that blows her open button-down against her to show him the intimate dip of her waist is the cherry on top of that ice cream. His gaze trails unhurriedly back up to her face and he sees that she’s been watching him admire her. Normally, staring is his default expression, but now his heart hammers with giddy yearning as he holds her eye. She smiles fleetingly before looking back to Sam. Oh right, Sam’s talking. Bucky had kinda tuned him out.

“It won’t take long.”

“No it won’t,” Sarah agrees. “Not if I do it. You’ve messed around with that pump enough for one day.”

“Sarah, come on. Be practical,” Sam pleads. “You can’t do it by yourself.”

“I won’t do it by myself. Bucky here can do the heavy lifting.”

Ok, he’s surprised about that, but when she glances to him, he nods readily. He refuses to meet Sam’s side-eye. He’s sure the message is ‘You traitor.’ Ignoring him, Bucky beams at Sarah.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he tells her.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Sam demands. “Watch?”

“Since you asked,” Sarah informs him, “you’re supposed to go pick your nephews up from AJ’s friend Marco’s house. If they haven’t eaten yet, feed them.”

“But—”

Sam motions indignantly towards Bucky, but Sarah waves away his complaint.

“You asked what I need from you and I told you. Let us get on with what we’ve gotta do here. We’re losing daylight.”

“You heard her, Samuel,” Bucky says, striding to the pump.

The wrench he and Sam passed back and forth while unbolting it is in the top tray of the toolbox when he flips it open. Tucking the wrench into his back pocket, Bucky turns and heaves the pump off the ground. Sarah’s watching. He throws her a smile with a little upward jerk of his chin. She rolls her lips together like she’s hiding her own smile but stands firm until Sam gives up and stalks off across the boatyard.

“You think it’d be cruel to yell after him not to wait up?” Sarah asks Bucky nonchalantly, hand on her hip as the two of them observe her brother’s retreat.

Bucky almost drops the pump before hugging it to himself too tightly, stopping when he hears the metal creak. But he tries to be cool.

“Only if you mean it,” he says.

She spares him a glance that doesn’t tell him either way and walks past, stepping onto the boat.

“You got it?” she asks.

“Yep,” Bucky assures her, adjusting his grip and jumping down onto the deck. Coulda stepped. Wanted to show off. Story of his life since he met Sarah Wilson maybe 36 hours ago.

He follows her into the cabin and she digs through a box of supplies, grabbing a flashlight.

“Might need this soon.”

Her explanation’s unnecessary (the sky’s darkening above them) and Bucky can see the nervousness in it, how she self-consciously plays with the hem of her t-shirt and twists her earring now that they’re together in a semi-enclosed space.

“Unless that arm of yours glows in the dark,” she adds.

“Unfortunately not,” he says with a smile as they duck below deck. His feet clomp sturdily down the steps, but Sarah still looks up at him from the bottom like he might teeter. “You shoulda been there while they were deciding on the specs.”

Sarah laughs, navigating the protruding inner workings of the boat more smoothly than movie spies crossing rooms streaked with red lasers. (Stupidest fucking scenes Bucky’s ever seen.)

“That was in Wakanda, right?”

“Sam told you?”

“He did. I guess you’ve seen a lot. Been a lot of places,” Sarah amends.

For a minute, his throat’s thick. She corrected herself to make sure he knew she wasn’t being nosy about his past. He wouldn’t mind. It’d be fair of her to bring up any worries she had, what with the two of them being alone here. But then, maybe he doesn’t make her nervous in that way. She’s the one who asked him to stay. (Or just told him he was staying more than asked, really.)

“So has Sam,” Bucky points out.

“Yeah, but Sam has to come back here to avoid getting an earful over the phone. Why would you wanna be here? Right here,” she adds, motioning to the spot where the water pump sat until early this morning. Bucky was one of the people who removed it, plus there’s a clear silhouette where the side rests against the boat, inside of which shape the wood’s less weathered, but he’ll be as clueless as Sarah wants if it results in more of this—her hand on his back as she trades places with him to guide him in ahead of her.

“It’s nice here,” he says simply. “Like a holiday.”

The instant he says it, he wants to backtrack. None of this is a holiday for the Wilsons; in spite of the block party atmosphere of the community coming together to restore the boat, they’re doing all this to ensure their livelihood. A good future for Sarah and her boys. She shoots him a benevolent smile like she knows he knows he just put his foot in his mouth. He can only shake his head at himself and carry on.

Squatting, Bucky aligns the holes in the pump’s base with those in the plate it has to mount back onto. They’re a little rusty, but the old blue paint’s just flaking, no problems with the actual integrity of the metal.

“You always do volunteer manual labour on your holidays?” Sarah jokes, putting a hand on his shoulder as she maneuvers around him. She drops to a crouch at his side and directs the beam of the flashlight down onto the pump.

“I like to be busy. I sleep better that way.”

“Until your host’s kids wake you up.”

“Aw, that was no problem.”

“Wrench?” she asks.

“Back pocket.”

Bucky could pass it to her. He could take one hand off the pump, retrieve the wrench, and hold it out for Sarah to grab. Hell, he could take both hands off the pump. The thing’s just sitting here. But he’s selfish, trying to make it look like he has to keep the pump from shifting out of the position he’s put it in, because he wants to find out what Sarah wants. He hasn’t completely thought this through, but some part of him’s saying a good way to find out what Sarah wants is to see if she’ll take the wrench from his back pocket while he’s squatting, jeans hugging his ass.

She laughs softly, looking at the floor.

She slides the wrench out of his pocket.

Now, there’s no actual contact required there, but she has touched him a couple times, so when she asks, “Bolts?” he looks at her in the dim light—flashlight still tilted towards the floor—and tells her, “Front pocket.”

When Sarah elects to maintain the angle of the light by holding the end of the flashlight in her mouth, Bucky thinks she might be capable of cruelty after all; he feels his face go slack at the sight of her lips around a fucking plastic cylinder. The choice leaves her hands free though, which is perfect because she apparently needs to grasp his knee with one for balance while the other goes to his hip, feeling out the line of his pocket. Bucky tries to breathe deep and even. This has gotta be it, the scenario Sam was most worried about when he left them here together.

Mercifully, when Sarah gets her fingers hooked into Bucky’s front pocket, she removes her other hand from his knee and uses it to hold the flashlight. He shifts forward onto his knees so his pocket isn’t pulled so tight and she can get her hand in there. Clearly a bad, terrifying plan now that his dick’s started to stiffen from the lingering image of the flashlight in her mouth and the proximity of her fingers to his crotch. It’s dark. Maybe she won’t see.

“Bolts,” Sarah says, wiggling her fingers deeper. “Nuts too?”

Their eyes meet and she pulls her hand back. Not too fast. Not like she embarrassed herself, saying something she didn’t mean to. Just like she did her bit and now the plan is to see what he’ll do. All he’s really capable of doing for the moment is extracting the nuts and bolts himself, dropping one of each into the raised palm she offers. He takes over with the flashlight and purposely doesn’t touch the end. It’ll drive him crazy if the plastic’s still wet.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

He spends three bolts being awkward, just pinching the head of each between his Vibranium fingers to hold them steady while Sarah tightens the nuts with the wrench from underneath the mounting plate. His other hand shines the light right where she needs it. They’re a different team than he and Sam are. Somehow, they can do two parts of the same job in the smallest scale, their hands practically on top of each other without either of them getting in the way. Bucky tries to think about that rather than her leg pressing against his or the fact that the gentle rock of the docked boat reminds him of rocking his hips forward when he… well. Does something he’s trying not to think about.

The wrench is old and though Sarah flicks the adjustment with her thumb to make it grip each nut in turn, it loosens and slips. It makes the task take longer and Sarah have to work harder. With two bolts to go, she sits back and pulls her button-down off, draping it over a pipe. Her t-shirt only catches Bucky’s eye because, even in here, the yellow’s so bright. It’s just the shirt. Absolutely not the shape of Sarah in it.

She leans back in, dropping the second last bolt through the hole. She feels beneath the plate to start the nut up the bolt’s threads with her fingers. With a soft noise of effort, Sarah simultaneously applies the wrench and reawakens Bucky’s erection.

“Sorry for keeping you from dinner,” she says, still tightening in the circle of light he provides. “You must be starving.”

“You have no idea.”

Bucky doesn’t mean for the words to sound the way they do, or maybe he does. Sarah falters, then finishes, but when she leans forward to fit the final bolt in place, the side of her breast presses his arm, and that’s the beginning of the end. Or possibly the end of the middle. Anyway, Bucky lets go of the flashlight and wraps his hand around Sarah’s waist instead. The flashlight must land on its button because the boat goes pitch-black. Why didn’t either of them think to turn the overhead light on? He hears the nut fall from her hand. It’s not one of the nuts he’s concerned with at the moment, so he tells himself they’ll look for it later and focuses on Sarah leaning in to find his lips in the dark.

Kissing her is… Hell, it’s something he’s been thinking about since they met yesterday. When she marched straight over to the boat and then changed her posture the second she spotted him. Bucky appreciates clear body language—it’s something he can do a quick read of and understand. If they’d had more time at that first meeting, of course he would’ve talked to her, flirted with more than a smile, but the smiles they swapped were an effective stopgap until they could end up right here. His mouth on hers. Being careful not to trap her braids under his fingers when he skims them up the back of her neck.

“Um,” Sarah says, breaking away with a shy laugh.

He keeps his hand on her lightly and feels her tilt her head forward like she’s avoiding his eye, even in the dark. Before he can worry that something is wrong, that he’s done something wrong, she lifts her head again and her braids flick, pattering across his forearm like rain.

“You should know,” she says, “since my husband passed, I haven’t really had a lot of time or inclination for this kinda thing, but...”

“That’s ok,” Bucky quickly assures her. “This doesn’t have to be anything. I didn’t mean to push.”

“And you didn’t.”

They sit in silence for a minute before he clears his throat.

“I’ve never… I’ve never had anybody special to me in that way, like your husband was to you, nobody to lose like that. But I do understand… uh, the sort of, um, momentousness… when it’s been a while.”

“You do?”

He can hear humour in her voice. This wasn’t supposed to be a funny conversation. Is he making it that weird?

“Sure. You know about me,” Bucky says quietly. He knows she must. She never asked who he was to Sam to be showing up here, being offered their couch for the night. Never asked about the arm, though he hasn’t tried to hide it. (He can’t remember the last time he just lived like this and the relief is enormous.)

“Tell me about the momentousness.”

He’d like to be able to see her better, but it’s also nice to know she has no idea the way he’s blushing over her request. It’s his own damn fault. Trying to be tactful and generous. Trying to say he knew how she felt, only for Sarah to call him on that. He’s gotta learn that this is not a woman who lets a man speak for her and, if he blunders into doing just that, she doesn’t let him off the hook. And she has a fish business. Who woulda thought.

“Well, it’s, uh…” Bucky rubs the back of his neck with the hand not cupping hers. “It feels like a big deal. Almost like being young all over again.”

“Hey,” she interjects, “some of us are still young.”

He laughs.

“Sorry. I just mean it’s… exciting. You know, thrilling. You wanna do everything at once but you’re also so scared to just…”

“Just…?”

“To just touch her,” he breathes out.

Sarah leans her head back so his hand’s not only touching her neck but holding it up. He laughs again as she straightens. He gets the point; he’s already touching her. So maybe it’s easier than even he thinks it is. Touch. Intimacy. Defiling the belly of a fishing boat with somebody who turned his head so fast he’s the one who needs something bolted back into place. Maybe one on either side of his neck, like Frankenstein’s monster. He sure does feel alive.

“I said I haven’t done this a lot lately,” Sarah says, loosely grasping his wrist. Bucky slips his hand off her neck to line it up with hers, lacing their fingers. “Not that it’s necessarily been that long since the last time I went on a date that ended with more than a kiss at the door.” Abruptly, she laughs. “I’m trying to tell you there’s a condom in the pocket of that shirt I threw over… wherever it got to. If you want this to keep going in a direction where you’d need to use it.”

“Yeah. Yes. I want that.”

“And not just to annoy Sam?”

“Not just.” Bucky smirks in the dark.

“Ok then.”

“I like you, Sarah,” he says as her fingers play with his. He shifts to face her better. “You don’t make things complicated.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of that.”

He can only make a noise of agreement as he comes close enough to feel out her mouth. He’s wishing he’d shaved his face smooth for this—obviously not as certain this encounter was going to happen today, or at all, as the woman who’s been carrying a condom in her pocket—but with a rough tilt of his head as he takes Sarah’s mouth harder, his cheek rubs against hers and she makes a sound into his mouth. A positive sound. An arousing sound. Bucky does something he never does and holds her face in both his hands, metal and skin. Sarah’s go to his hips, hooking into his beltloops, and they both rise up on their knees to press closer.

But she says, “Ouch, kneeled on the wrench,” and Bucky’s only being helpful when he moves his hands to the back of her thighs, running up over her ass as he urges her to her feet with him.

His hands behave themselves a little better when they’re both standing; he keeps them on the small of her back, scrunching her t-shirt in his fingers when she bows into him. He could kiss Sarah for a long time. It’s something he’s always enjoyed, got a lot of practice at when he was young, kissing in the back row of a theatre or savouring every moment until a girl’s curfew with some feverish necking in the alley around the corner from her family’s apartment. Nobody’s counting down the minutes on Bucky’s time with Sarah, so it’s looking like he might be able to just keep dragging his lips across hers for ages, stroking his tongue into her mouth. The geography decides otherwise.

He hears the speedboat’s motor approaching long before he really makes sense of the noise. That happens when the choppy wake hits Sarah’s docked boat, tossing her forward against him.

Alright, tossing him forward. He’s the one whose sea legs are for shit.

It’s evident that she feels his erection against her stomach. She’d have to be really unfamiliar with how this dance went not to notice with the way he’s swelling for her.

“Yeah?” Bucky checks when Sarah digs her fingers into his hips to hold him to her body.

“Yeah.”

He pulls out of her embrace to hunt down that shirt.

“You know, I’ve done this before.”

“I know. I’ve met your kids.” His voice says he’s joking even as his hands move desperately, caressing the boat’s innards in search of soft cotton.

“I mean specifically on this boat,” Sarah confesses, laughing.

Bucky hears a pair of thumps he determines to have been her shoes hitting the floor after the next sound he hears is her unzipping her pants. Wildly, he snatches her shirt from the pipe and dumps the condom out of the pocket and into his hand. He forces himself to calmly replace the shirt where he got it from so she can find it after—just the thought of there being an after has him hardening further.

“It’s startin’ to feel like I’m not so special,” he teases, lurching back to her when the speedboat seemingly swings around upriver and makes a second pass, causing the ground to slope once more.

“You might be,” she teases back. While his legs are tensed to keep his balance, Sarah has to be stretching up on her toes to brush her lips over his. “We’re gonna see about that.”

Her hands curl around the back of his neck as she presses up into the kiss. Bucky groans and gropes for her hips, condom caught between two fingers. His hands run over the sides of her underwear, but it’s mostly skin he touches. Warm and smooth. Kissing Sarah deeply, he traces the soft grooves of stretchmarks, signs of her body’s endurance. She’s given birth twice, lost her partner, come through the Blip and out the other side. This is a survivor’s body. Although she didn’t remove her shirt along with her pants, Bucky breaks the kiss to strip off his. With trembling fingers, he guides her hand from his neck to his shoulder, letting her feel the scars.

Sarah grazes her palm over him. It isn’t hesitant and it isn’t harsh. She touches the place where metal and skin converge the same way she’s touched his neck, his knee. Her other hand strokes over his chest, dawdling to outline his dog tags, then sliding lower. Her fingertips are so light on his abdomen that they almost tickle. The river flows around and against the boat in faint slaps. Sarah’s hand falls to fondle his erection and he gasps into the stillness.

He crowds into her and she presses back against the wall of the boat.

“Is it too cold?” he wonders.

“Cold?” she asks distractedly, popping open the button of his jeans. “No, I’m good.”

Smiling to himself, Bucky ducks his head until they’re almost kissing.

“Ok,” he says. “Well, you let me know.”

His hand wanders from her hip, down, then up her inner thigh. Sarah shivers but doesn’t say anything about being cold, so, breathing harder, Bucky touches his fingers to her underwear between her legs. He can tell she finds his tentativeness a little funny—she exhales a soft laugh—but he needs this short pause to stop him from getting too eager. Though he didn’t want to clarify, he’s figuring that Sarah probably had sex on this boat during her teenage years, and he really doesn’t want his touch to remind her of some adolescent boy’s horny fumblings. Not when the setting’s already bringing up memories for her.

“No heckling,” he jokingly protests.

“I’m not, I swear I’m not.”

He can hear the humour in her voice and he likes the way her words hitch into a panted breath when he relocates his hand to her stomach and nudges his fingers under the band of her underwear.

“Second thoughts?” Bucky asks before he touches her anywhere too interesting.

“Nope. Just a lotta thoughts about you lifting heavy loads off trucks and workin’ a wrench.”

“Yeah?” He pushes his face up under her jaw, kisses there while she tilts her chin to give him room. “You been thinkin’ I might be good with my hands, Sarah?”

He hears her shaky breath when he says her name and thinks there’s a chance he’s not too bad at this. Even now. Not with somebody he seemed to emotionally fall right into step with the instant they clapped eyes on each other.

“No might about it. I’ve been watching you for two days. I know you’re good with your hands.”

Pressing his mouth hard to hers, Bucky slides his fingers down towards warmth and, it turns out, wetness. He groans against her mouth and she jerks his zipper down with demanding fingers. Wedging her hands between his skin and his clothes, Sarah begins forcing his jeans and underwear off together. Even as he’s aching for her to get him naked, he’s gathering her body against his, arm wrapped securely around her back as his fingers slip through her arousal. He curls two fingers inside her and her hips jolt in an apparently automatic attempt to get him deeper. She tries to widen her legs for him, but his hand’s intrusion has stretched her underwear across her upper thighs, so he plucks at them hastily until they fall and she kicks them aside. His own bottom layers are hanging on around his knees. Bucky can’t be fucked to deal with that. He’s punched through a lot of walls rather than going through doors; he knows what is and isn’t a serious obstacle.

Sarah lifts her thigh to his hip and their mouths part with a ragged, shared breath. The Vibranium arm around her supports her—metal fingers clamped tight on the condom between them—as his other hand works her with more pressure when she asks for it in a moan.

“Can I get you off like this, or you want me some other way?” he pants.

It’s like Steve used to say about damn near everything—Bucky could do this all day. He withdraws his fingers from inside her to scrub his fingertips up and down over her clit.

“I’m sure you can,” Sarah says, chest heaving as her hips sway in response to his touch, “but…”

Her hands, which had climbed to his arms after undressing his bottom half, creep lower. The grip of one hand catches in his elbow, thumb to his pulse. The other wraps around his straining cock.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But.”

Insistent on putting on the condom himself, he does it with one arm still encircling Sarah. While he’s tearing it open, he drops his face to her neck again. She sighs as he kisses down her throat and goes mmm when he licks along her collarbone. She’s sweaty, like him.

Though Bucky’s just dying to sink into her, holding her this close is a whole other kind of satisfying. He flicks the condom wrapper away and dips his head, taking hold of the front of Sarah’s yellow t-shirt with his teeth.

“Bucky! What…?”

But her hand pats the back of his head in time with her laughter as he drags the material up until it stays put above her breasts. Tragically, the ghost of Sarah’s horny teenage encounter on this boat possesses him and he’s compelled to mash his face into her cleavage as soon as it’s exposed. He rubs his lips over her breast and she takes the condom from him, reaching between them to roll it down his cock. The feel of her fist makes him grunt into her chest.

“You ready?” Sarah asks him.

Bucky lifts his head and looks at her. It’s dark, but not too dark to judge by her expression that she’s not just asking casually. This isn’t a carefree, youthful hookup—a couple teenagers sneaking onto a parent’s boat or perfecting their hickey-making technique in an alley. Is he ready? He hasn’t been. Not for the occasional assessing stare of a stranger on the sidewalk, or for dating apps and the staggeringly forward pictures people send in response to a simple ‘hi,’ or even for the low-stakes combo of beers and Battleship. But now? For Sarah?

“Yeah,” Bucky states, loud and clear, angling his hips forward when she takes her hands away.

“Alright,” she says, “so am I.”

He kisses her. He believes her.

He grips the underside of her raised thigh with one hand and his dick with the other, bending his knees slightly before pressing up into her. Heat slinks up his chest and twines around his neck like a scarf. Despite the tripping hazard of his pants around his legs, Bucky shuffles forward, holding Sarah so close. She doesn’t make a sound as he fills her, but when he pulls out and thrusts again, an uuuh catches in her throat. God, it feels good to be back in business.

Fingers digging into her leg and her ass, Bucky rocks his hips steadily, huffing sharply through his nose. Sarah’s hands move all over him. They’re on his shoulders, then squeezing his arms; grabbing his hips to encourage him to drive into her harder, then seizing his ass to hold him deep. When he does something good, he feels her tighten on his cock, a quick clutch and release. When he does something really good, she moans so loud the back of his neck tingles and he has to summon every bit of discipline he has not to just let go now.

The feel of the muscles in Sarah’s leg and ass flexing to sync the rhythm of their hips when things get rougher makes Bucky’s eyes roll back. He lifts her off the ground, thighs in his hands as he slings his hips sharply forward. Sarah curls into him, nipping one shoulder as she cups her hand over the metal of the other one. Her breasts bounce against his chest. He pins her between his groin and the boat and feels (and hears) it the second the motion of his hips drags at her clit.

“Bucky!” she gasps. “Don’t—”

“Stop?” he guesses, grinning even as he pants, even as he shifts his feet to make sure they’re gonna stay under him until this is over and he can set her down gently.

Sarah nods rapidly and Bucky keeps the closeness but progresses to fast, shallow thrusts. They should hum, like a machine, like a piston, like a pump, because that’s what it feels like, fucking her and falling for her, doing their dance with just the right friction. How it really sounds is wet, filthy, oh, but her smile is beautiful as she strives, fingers tangled in his dog tags. She comes calling his name. He’s right here, right there with her. She’s clenching so firmly around him that the pleasure might not end and he’ll just have to stay here on this boat, with her, and be Bucky, and get used to the luxury of it making sense again, his name in the mouth of somebody who needs him and wants him and could know him, after a few more nights on her couch and mornings with her kids. He could stand the sound of her name leaving his mouth every single goddamn day, but he’s gonna start with one day, this day, right now.

He says, “Sarah,” and wraps his arms around her, and hopes those arms feel strong.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Carry Me Home

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: John, Scott, Virgil

Back to back rescues is a recipe for exhaustion.  Luckily, Scott’s got an eye in the sky looking out for him.

A random discussion with @janetm74 about how much we love sleepy Scott fics somehow turned into this...  Well, it feels like it’s been a while since I posted any fluff, so here you go.

John didn’t have alarms rigged to alert him just before his eldest brother crashed out, although at times that certainly sounded like an appealing prospect.  Maybe one day he’d implement it, considering Scott’s penchant for working until he dropped – literally – but for now it remained a vague concept in the back of his mind.

Today was one day where it might be useful.  It was, he supposed, fortunate that the rest of his brothers had just returned from their respective rescues, leaving him with only Scott to monitor as his big brother packed up after his own rescue.  If he’d been distracted by another brother, or some new stream of important data that needed instant attention, he wouldn’t have caught the signs in time.  As it was, the only thing on his conscious radar at that moment was Scott, and John saw the moment his older brother’s vitals plummeted.

His immediate reaction was panic, his heart jumping up to land in his throat as Scott’s blood pressure and heart rate dropped from its high, adrenaline-fuelled state.  But Scott didn’t keel over, or faint, or outwardly show any reaction at all, and logic sidled its way in before John did something unadvisable.

This was Scott’s third rescue in the past twenty-four hours.  None of them had been easy, but this final one had been particularly physically demanding, with his brother clambering in and around a large and challenging area of craggy rocks - in a couple of cases having to carry a rescuee while doing so.  John was also aware that Scott hadn’t had much by way of sleep, and while he hadn’t been tracking his brother’s every move, he suspected food probably hadn’t featured as much as it should have done, either.

It was the perfect storm.

He watched the camera feed closely as Scott packed away the last of his harness equipment before sitting down heavily in his pilot seat.  A dirty, tired hand rubbed at his face, leaving streaks on the skin in an admittance John knew Scott wouldn’t have made if he’d realised he was being watched.  The yawn, splitting his brother’s face in two and beading moisture in the corner of his scrunched closed eyes, was the last straw.

Scott was not piloting anywhere like that.

Pulling up Thunderbird One’s controls took barely a thought.  By the time Scott’s weary hands rested on the levers, ready to guide his ‘bird into the air, John had locked him out and activated her remote pilot.

It only took a second for Scott to realise that Thunderbird One’s controls weren’t responding to him, but a second was far too long for a man who lived and breathed flight.  John let his hologram flicker into view as Scott grumbled and poked at the controls again, clearly not yet realising that the reason they weren’t working was because John had decreed it.

His brother jumped when he noticed him.

“Everything’s fine, John,” he said, although he was still scowling at his ‘bird’s controls as if he thought there was something wrong.  “I’ll be in the air in a minute.”

“I know,” John agreed pleasantly, and was relieved to see the scowling blue eyes turn suspiciously towards him.  Scott was exhausted, but could at least still do the bare minimum of realise when a brother was up to something.  “Strap yourself in.”  Scott gestured at his shoulder harness, and John barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “The turbulence straps,” he clarified. While the shoulder harnesses did their job in most conditions, Thunderbird One’s pilot seat also came with additional security in the case of heavy turbulence – or, in a worst-case scenario, a crash landing.  Considering Scott was undeniably more creeping further towards sleep every moment – proven by another yawn which he couldn’t stifle – John wanted him fully strapped in.

“Don’t need ‘em,” Scott grumbled.  “Conditions are clear.”

“Scott.”  John had mastered the disappointed parent voice years ago out of necessity, and sometimes even Scott reacted to it. Today, with the older man more asleep than awake, the stars aligned in John’s favour, and the turbulence straps were fastened.  Scott still grumbled, but John didn’t care as long as he was secure.

“What is the point of this?” his brother demanded, failing to hide yet another yawn.  His eyes were half-lidded at best, and another glance at his vitals showed that it was only Scott’s stubbornness that was keeping him awake.  There was absolutely no way he was fit to fly, and John was going to enforce that.

“Relax,” he said, keeping his voice level and low.  “I’ll get you home, big brother.”

“Wha-?”  Blue eyes shot open.  “John, what are-”

John didn’t let him finish his sentence before powering up Thunderbird One’s VTOL and lifting his brother’s ‘bird – complete with said brother safely ensconced within – into the sky.

“You’re dead on your feet, Scott,” he pointed out calmly.  “Get some rest.  You’re in no state to pilot.”

“I’m fine,” Scott tried to protest, but yet another yawn interrupted him and he involuntarily slumped back in the seat.  John took the opportunity to ignite Thunderbird One’s rear boosters and accelerate her up through the sound barrier.

“Scott.”  This time it wasn’t the disappointed parent, but rather the wheedling little brother.  Scott was always weak to wheedling little brothers, and this was no exception.  He slumped back further in the chair, head resting back against the headrest.

“Fine,” he huffed, finally accepting that this was a debate he was never going to win.  Another yawn crossed his face and his eyelids fluttered closed for several moments before they were wrenched open again.  “Just for now.”

The fact that he had caved at all proved how unfit to fly he was.

Blue eyes fluttered closed again, but this time they didn’t re-open.  Scott’s vitals stabilised themselves, far too low for consciousness to be on the cards at all, and John kept an eye on the camera feed as Scott’s chest rose and fell in slow and even breaths.  His brother badly needed the sleep.

After a moment, during which he brought Thunderbird One to a safe, comfortable cruising speed of Mach seven and confirmed nothing was in her flight path, he opened a line to Tracy Island, and his immediate younger brother.

Virgil wasn’t long back from a rescue himself, and still had a smudge of grime on his nose that no-one had pointed out to him yet.

“Another rescue?” he asked. He looked somewhat weary himself, although far from Scott’s own level of exhaustion.  John shook his head.

“No,” he promised.  “Scott’s fallen asleep.”

That perked Virgil up straight away.  “In Thunderbird One?” he demanded, incredulously.  John gave a wry smile in response.

“I’m in control,” he assured him.  “Scott’s exhausted, but safe.”  To prove it, he sent along a copy of Scott’s suit telemetry, which was currently reading vitals consistent with a deep sleep.  Virgil scrutinised them closely for several moments before sighing.

“He needs to stop pushing himself so hard,” he despaired quietly, before collecting himself.  “What’s Thunderbird One’s ETA?”

John glanced across at the figures.  “Half an hour,” he said.  “Scott’s probably not going to wake up before she lands.”  He hoped he didn’t.  Scott needed actual sleep, not a half hour nap in his Thunderbird.  “Judging by his vitals, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sleeps right through.”

Virgil’s eyes glanced over the data again, and his lips thinned in agreement.

“Get him home, John,” he said.  “I’ll take it from there.”

“F.A.B,” John agreed. He didn’t close the line with Virgil, but he did turn away from his younger brother to instead watch his older brother as he continued to guide Thunderbird One home.

As predicted, Scott slept right through the landing half an hour later.  There was a slight stir as she decelerated and rotated, but his eyes stayed closed and he remained slumped bonelessly in his seat as John settled the Thunderbird on her castors and allowed her to roll back to the hangar.

Virgil was ready and waiting on the gantry when John let his hologram flicker back into view.

“Still asleep?” the middle Tracy asked as the Thunderbird came to a stop.  John nodded.  “Okay, I’ve got this.”  Virgil stepped forwards onto the extending loading ramp, and as he neared the cockpit, John disengaged the pilot seat so that it swung out to meet him.  His younger brother didn’t hesitate, reaching out and releasing all the straps and harnesses holding Scott in place before scooping the still-sleeping man up into his arms.

That was, in theory, the end of John’s domain.  With Scott safe and still slumbering away in Virgil’s arms, he was the dark-haired Tracy’s responsibility now, and his hologram stopped projecting so as not to distract Virgil.

Still, John watched as the platform retracted, bringing his brothers back to the gantry, and Virgil walked across the metal towards the elevator.  In his arms, Scott shifted, a sleepy murmur indicating that his sleep wasn’t quite so deep any more.  Virgil was no stranger to handling him, however, and a small, fond, smile crept onto John’s face as his younger brother murmured something quiet and melodic.

The microphones couldn’t pick up exactly what it was Virgil was saying – or, John suspected, humming – but whatever it was seemed to do the trick as Scott settled back down.

There were no blind spots in Thunderbird Five’s coverage of the villa.  John didn’t normally pay close attention to areas outside of the den, kitchen and hangars, largely content to let his family get on with their personal lives without him spying on them, but today he tracked Virgil the entire way from the hangars to Scott’s bedroom.  Virgil was frowning a little by the time he got there, clearly a little suspicious at how little effort it had taken to keep their big brother asleep, and the same unease filtered through John’s mind.

Was Scott really just that exhausted, or had they missed something?

John watched the feed like a hawk as Virgil gently stripped off Scott’s uniform, revealing the plain undershirt and shorts, and his telemetry data disappeared.  Nothing new flagged up as a point of concern, except for the ongoing fact that Scott barely stirred.  Virgil rested a hand on their brother’s chest, and instantly made a face.

The next moment, Scott’s underclothes were also being stripped away, leaving him in just his underwear, and Virgil was dropping them on the floor by the uniform judgementally. Despite the underlying concern, John smirked a little.  Scott had done a lot of physical work on the last mission; it made sense for his clothes to have absorbed the sweat that came with that and he didn’t envy Virgil for dealing with that at all.

Pyjamas were retrieved, but before Virgil began the unenviable task of trying to dress their sleeping brother without waking him, a familiar yellow light skipped over Scott’s body.  John immediately tapped in to the medscanner as Virgil scrutinised the results; just like the suit telemetry, it simply flagged up sheer exhaustion, but with a small caution for dehydration added in as well.

Shoulders slumping in what John assumed was relief, Virgil eased the still-sleeping figure of their brother into loose pyjamas and tugged at the comforter until Scott was nestled snugly in bed.  Just before he pulled it all the way up to Scott’s chin Virgil hesitated for a brief moment, and then a monitor was being carefully attached to Scott’s pyjama top.

John tapped into that as well, relieved that Virgil had thought to attach one, and immediately got the data streaming straight into Thunderbird Five for him to check periodically. Just like the scan, it currently declared no causes for concern, barring an advisory for mild dehydration, and a little bit of tension bled from John’s shoulders.

Seemingly satisfied, Virgil then pulled the comforter the rest of the way, tucking Scott in firmly, only for their brother to stir again.  The pianist’s hand immediately threaded into brown locks, and John watched fondly as Virgil ran his fingers gently through Scott’s hair soothingly.  The microphones in Scott’s room were more sensitive, adjusted for quiet night time conversations, and while earlier John hadn’t been able to hear how Virgil settled their brother, now his voice resonated through Thunderbird Five.

John recognised it instantly.  How could he not, when he’d heard it so many times as a child, first from Mom, and then overheard as Scott did his best to fill in the gaps after the avalanche?  A quiet and gentle lullaby from years long gone by did the trick to settle Scott again, but Virgil didn’t stop singing even after Scott stopped stirring.

That, John decided, was his cue to leave.  Scott was home safe and in good hands – and he had the readings from the monitor to keep an eye on if he wanted to check up on him.  There was no point lurking around and listening to a brother who may or may not realise he was still watching.

He dismissed the feed just as Virgil finished a verse, suddenly plunging Thunderbird Five into silence before the quiet background hum of his ‘bird’s ever-running machinery registered again.  A glance at the monitor readings brought his attention back to the dehydration caution, and John checked to see who was near the kitchen.  Virgil, no doubt, would be staying with Scott for a little while yet, but there was no harm in sending someone else up with some electrolyte drinks for when Scott finally woke.

Well, no harm as long as he made it perfectly clear to the rest of the family that Scott was getting some long overdue and well-deserved rest, and anyone who disturbed him would find out exactly how creative John could get with technology.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 10

Rise of the Demon King Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously: Satan spent the rest of the night by his brother's side, cleaning his room and slowly, step by step, bringing back how his brother usually looked like. A glowing masterpiece, worthy of both envy and praise. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 10 - A Strong Bond (1616 words)

I was sitting at Lucifer's desk in his old room. After spending 3 sleepless nights in a row, Simeon helped me move into Luci’s old room which thankfully had some really good blinds to block out the celestial sun. The paperwork seemed as endless as it had in the Devildom only this time, it was the archangels' work. While they did their share and dealt with their department’s issues, the majority of the work still fell on my shoulders. I’m starting to understand why Lucifer felt this way towards paperwork. I put the pen down as I finished up the last of this week’s paperwork. Looking at the time, I realized I’ve been working for the past 9 hours straight. Getting up, I stretched my back and felt my joints popping. I filed the rest of the work and got dressed in something more comfortable. A simple dark blue turtleneck and white jeans. I made my way to the kitchen, having missed dinner, I wanted to get something to nibble on before bed. Upon entering, I found Raphael at the table with a cup of celestial berry tea. Noticing me, he looked up and waved me over.

“What are you still doing up Raph?” “I could ask the same. Here, we have some leftovers.” Raphael got up and got a plate from the fridge placing it in the microwave before getting another mug to pour more tea in. “Thank you” I took the mug with both hands and slowly sipped it. Relishing the warmth flowing down my throat. Taking the plate out of the microwave, Raphael set it in front of me before ruffling my hair and sitting back down. Laughing I retaliated back.

“H-hey! I’m not a child”

“You are compared to us. An overworked tired child that despite being in over their head, is doing an amazing job at keeping us running.”

“Thank you. It is hard though. I have no idea how Lu did it, still does it.”

“Yeah, Sammy would work himself to exhaustion. You actually remind me of him. Your determination to get the work done flawlessly and your dedication. Are you sure you’re not supposed to be an angel?”

“Heh, thanks Raph, but you and I both know I’m only doing this to go back.”

“Do you have to though? You’ve been here for a full millenia now. Don’t you want to stay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely up here and you guys are the absolute best, but I don’t belong here. My heart is in the Devildom with the brothers.”

“Why though? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing, but why would you rather stay in the Devildom than here?”

“I guess the Devildom just grew on me. The Devildom, and the bro’s. I like the way Belphie looks when he’s sleeping peacefully, his head on my lap. I admire the way Beel protects his twin and his brothers, sacrificing everything to make them happy. I envy the way Asmo can change a tense atmosphere into an up beat one effectively dissolving any tension. I find myself thinking about Satan and the late reading nights we’d have and the discussions about cats and our books. I wish I had as much passion as Levi does with his games and shows. Confidently ranting on about them without caring what others think. I’m amazed by Mammon’s love for his family. Everything he sacrifices to make them happy. He even puts himself in the line of fire and would redirect the attention to himself by doing something stupid to distract them from their suffering. I love Lucifer. I love how much he cares for his family. All he sacrifices, all he endures, all the pain he hides from them to keep them happy. To keep us all happy... I miss them.” Tears started pooling as I reminisced about the brothers. Raphael leaned over and pulled me into a shoulder hug.

“I know you do. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure they miss you too. It sounds like you created a strong bond with them. I’m sure you’ll get to see them soon.”

“I hope so. Thanks Raph.”

“Anytime Y/N. I think you should get some rest. Don’t forget we have a-”

“Y/N, Raphael.” Michael walked into the kitchen. He had a look that closely resembled contentment and relief.

“Michael, how can we help you?”

“You should be in bed Raphael. Father wants to see Y/N. Now.” Raphael and I exchanged a look. I finished off my tea and hugged Raphael goodnight before heading to my room to change into something more appropriate for my meeting with God. 5 minutes later and we were on our way to the palace. In the Devildom After they lost Y/N The day they lost Y/N was the hardest day in their life. After they got back to the house, they both went straight to their room, not talking with anyone. Behind the relative safety of a locked door, Belphie crawled into bed and tried to escape reality. Beel sat on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t try to sleep, he didn’t go to the kitchen, he didn’t move. He just sat there, the pain numbing him. They stayed like this for a while before Belphie started tossing and turning, his slumber becoming a restless nightmare. Beel got up and changed into something more comfortable. He moved Belphie over and got under the covers, pulling his twin into his chest. Belphie felt himself being pulled into his older brother's embrace and leaned into it, grief evident on both their faces as they both fell into a dreamless sleep.

The days following weren’t much better. Beel wouldn’t eat as much, practically starving himself and he was rarely found. When any of the brothers would go looking for him, they’d either find him in his room or the gym. Belphie wouldn’t wake up at all anymore. He’d go weeks sleeping, if you could call nightmare filled nights sleeping. He wasn’t any better awake either. When he did wake to attend school or fulfill an order from the king, you could practically see the waves of pure wrath and resentment surrounding him, only dispersing when Beel was close by. There were days where neither of them would leave their room, both just staring into space, little words exchanged. Although they didn’t need to. Their shared bond conveyed more than words could express. The pain amplified by this bond. When Belphie was awake, the twins would practically be inseparable. Neither going anywhere without the other.

This went on for a few months. One day after being rudely awakened from a nap, Belphie found himself wandering the house for a quiet place to sleep. Normally, he’d just head up to the attic, however today, he found his feet leading him down to the catacombs, towards Lilith’s, now Y/N’s casket. He doesn’t know what brought him here, but as soon as he saw it, his eyes started watering. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the memories he has assorted with the casket or if it was because Beel was sitting next to it, leaning his back against the side, crying. Sensing Belphie’s presence, Beel opened his eyes and turned his head towards his twin. He cracked a small, tired smile as Belphie moved to sit next to him. This was the first time Belphegor had seen Beelzebub cry since Y/N’s execution. Sitting next to his brother, he leaned into the larger demon letting his own tears flow. Their hands gravitated toward each other as they took hold. For the first time since the trial, they sat together in silence; tears flowing down their cheeks. Eventually, they fell asleep like this, holding each other's hands. It was Levi that found them. The 3rd born having come down to place the gift he got for Y/N from the convention on the casket. He spotted the twins sleeping with tear stained cheeks and left. He came back down a few minutes later with a blanket and a few snacks for when they awoke. Not wanting to disturb them, he set down the Ruri-chan kit and carefully draped the blanket over them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was envious of the twins connection and devotion to be there for each other. Then he remembered about their connection. He knows the twins can feel what the other is feeling. He realized that they were probably taking this the hardest, their shared connection amplifying the pain. His envy for them left, replaced by something resembling pity. He left them in the catacombs and retreated to his room. The twins awoke at the same time. They took notice of the blanket draped over them and the fruit tray placed next to them. They exchanged a smile as Beel leaned over to grab the tray, offering the fruit to Belphie first. Belphegor grabbed an apple slice and held it towards Beel. Beel opened his mouth accepting the slice and repeated the action with a clementine. They continued like this, feeding each other until the tray was empty. They stayed down in the catacombs for a little while longer, their bond conveying the vows they made to each other. They’d never leave each other's side. Always be there for their other half.

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed.

[river--glass]

Reylo Fic Recommendations: Monster Edition

In honor of Spooky Season, I wanted to make a list of fics in which one or both of them are more than human. Cryptids and creatures and monsters galore. (This one is for you, monsterfuckers.)

Demons

Count the Rings by Lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora). (E, Modern, 63K) When camping with her friends, Rey jokingly decides to marry a tree thats rumored to hold the spirit of a trapped man. Spoiler alert, the legends were true. Featuring accidental marriage, demon deals, and soft soft demon Ben. Sure there’s some angst and danger but this is mostly sweet and wonderful and Rey having dreams come true.

The Hand That Feeds by persimmone. (E, Victorian, 46K) Rey has managed to avoid unwanted male attention for thirty years, until the opening of a mysterious artifact burdens her with an accidental husband. Luckily, her new consort is not the average man. Or better, he's not... human. Featuring eldritch abomination Kylo who is so sweetly in awe and reverent of human Rey despite being powerful and older than the universe. And who also has... a tentacle form.

All The Ashes by neonheartbeat. (E, Modern, 37K) Rey, living in a terrible Brooklyn apartment and desperate to escape, posts a Craiglist ad as a half-joke seeking a marriage of convenience to just get the hell out of the country. It's unexpectedly answered by a mysterious Romanian count. Featuring soft monster Kylo, good friend Hux, and beauty and the beast elements. I loved this soft Kylo and thirsty Rey.

I Will Always Find You by kuresoto. (E, Modern, 24K) Featuring Lilith!Rey and Lucifer!Kylo. I love this. They fuck like monsters (and as monsters!) and Rey is the queen of hell and they're so viciously in love. Read It!!

Deliciously by @secretreylotrash. (E, Colonial, 18K) Puritan/Salem Witch Trials/The VVitch Inspired. Witches, demon Kylo, orgies, death... This was WILD.

The Devil’s Lucky Number by Avdal. (E, Modern, 10K) Pure smut. Demon Kylo shows up out of the blue for the sole purpose of making rey orgasm. It’s what she deserves.

The Devil You Know by KyloTrashForever. (E, Modern, 10K) In which Ben finds out the hard way that he shouldn’t play with old magic. AKA, lucky bastard dumb college student Ben accidentally summons himself a succubus girlfriend.

The Demon Within Me by Avdal. (E, Modern, 8K) Shameless demon Kylo smut.

Come To Me In The Clearing And There We Shall Dance by QueenOfCarrotFlowers @leofgyth . (E, 1600′s, 5K) She had been hoping he would find her - her only friend. Kylo. She supposes he’s a demon, or a devil, or one of the heathen gods, but she's never worked up the nerve to ask him and he has not volunteered that information.

Proposal by AKyloDarkly. (E, 4K) Lilith!Rey and Lucifer!Kylo.

Mercy by bunilicious. (E, Victorian, 3K) A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde/Demon AU. AKA, Rey is thirsty for her demon husband and refuses to wait any longer.

Mothman/Mothlo

For Love of a Flame by thewayofthetrashcompactor. (E, Fantasy, 8K) The shadowy Order has advanced across the forest, bringing darkness in their wake. Rey is hungry and desperate, willing to face the Order themselves to steal back what they've taken from the land. What she finds there is not what she expects. Fairies/mothpeople! Weird! I’m into it!

Drawn to the Light of Your Burning Sorrows by Kyriadamorte. (M, Modern, 7K) Mothman Ben! Curious outcast Rey! This was the first mothlo fic I ever saw. Me when I saw this fic: Mothlo? Mothman Reylo?? God and Ryan Johnson have truly abandoned this fandom. Me after this fic: Mothman Kylo is the best boy and bring on the cryptids.

Macrolepidoptera by ceciliasheplin. (E, Modern, 3K) Rey runs after her Mothman to show him how much she loves him. Nothing like a 3K word fic that hits you in the feels at the same time that it’s giving you mothman smut filth. This fandom is magical.

Nature Spirits

Oh Autumn, Oh Teakettle, Oh Grace by diasterisms. (E, Modern, 31K) Ben Solo didn’t believe in dryads, until one snagged his coats and freed herself. She’s pure bliss and magic and he is captivated. If she has to go 2000 miles back to her tree, he might as well drive her there. Dryad Rey/smitten human Ben road trip! What a lovely fic!

Looking For a Breath of Life by Fighter_for_Solo. (T, Fantasy, 18K) Featuring Elf Prince Ben and human hunter Rey! A really delightful story.

I met you once — ( In a dream ) by persopilliankore. (E, Fantasy, 10K). Where Ben and Rey are soulmates and Ben is more than meets the eye.

Fearless by KyloTrashForever. (E, Fantasy, 6K) Featuring tree Ent Kylo and the softest tentacle porn you’ll ever read.

Sea Creatures. Mermaids, Selkies, OctaKylo, oh my!

Beyond the Veil by dachenbritta. (M, Modern, 40K). Deep within the waters of the Oregon coast, a lone mermaid longs for the man she's watched for years. Her wish of joining him comes true but comes at a cost. This was hilarious and emotional and such a great read.

Sirens by SageMcMage. (E, Fantasy, 21K) In which Merman Ben tries to woo Mermaid Rey by little gifts on her doorstep. Adorable! 

Yn Beisht Kione by Melusine11 @hellomelusine . (E, Modern, 5K) They say a beast roams the sea. Protecting a treasure long hidden in the Headland's caves. Some say it is the soul of a man killed by pirates to protect that treasure. Sailors have been known to throw casks of rum at the beast in the hopes of placating it, so they don't get eaten and can pass in peace. Most people though, don't believe he exists, and Rey is about to find out how wrong they all are.

I Found You by Kyoloren. (T, Fantasy, 5K) In which scavenger mermaid Rey finds a strange black T-shaped object in her waters on Kef Bir and is determined to return it to its owner. Mermaid Rey!Cute little fish people soulmates!

Octopussy by KyloTrashForever. (E, Modern, 5K) Three brothers at the beach plus one horny sea monster equals a lot of holes being filled. Smutty monster filth, no need to look for a deeper meaning than that. You like tentacle porn? Here ya go.

Live by the Sea, Love by the Tide by Twin_Kitten. (E, Fantasy, 4K) Rey and a few other mermaids escape the clutches of Unkar, and stumble into the territory of another pod of mermaids. Ben's pod. Soft caretaking mermaid Ben!

Where the Blue of the Sea Meets the Sky by HarpiaHarpyja @thisgarbagepicker . (T-E, Fantasy) A Short delightful little series featuring Selkie Ben and explorer Rey! I seriously cannot say enough good things about this author, do yourself a favor and go read EVERYTHING she’s ever written.

Tentacle Dick (that’s it that’s the plot)

Damnably Unbecoming by cuddlesome. (E, Canon-verse crack, 5K)

Froot (i've been saving all my summers for you) by kuresoto. (E, Canon-verse crack, 4K)

Vampires

In The Dark by KyloTrashForever. (E, Modern, 44K) A Dark Shadows AU!! It’s not “finished”, but it ends well where it is! Featuring vampire Ben who is very sorry about drinking blood and human Rey who is even thirstier than he is.

A Little Death (Goes a Long Way) by crossingwinter. (E, Modern, 23K) A Vampire & A/B/O AU. Weird and dark but I am here for it.

The Lioness by Lilia_ula. (E, Fantasy, 13K) Rey goes bravely to her death after being chosen as the village sacrifice, but upon meeting the beast things don’t go as planned. I love to see Reylo fics where they both revel in who they are and what they are together. Fascinating.

Beneath the Pale Moonlight by bunilicious. (E, Historical Recency, 15K) A fluffy fic about vampire Ben falling hard for Rey! 

The Curious Case of the Aquarist and the Vanishing Walrus by radioactivesaltghoul. (T, Modern, 6K) Rey loves spending time in the walrus enclosure at the aquarium she works at.Ben is a vampire with an unusual ability. This is bizarre and wonderful and just such a fun read. I think about this fic daily.

Werewolves

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves) by crossingwinter. (E, Fantasy, 32K) A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

Howl by monsterleadmehome. (E, modern, 2K) When Ben Solo is trying to earn Eagle Scout status, he spends a night alone in the woods. A chance encounter with a werewolf girl named Rey leaves an impression. Ten years later, he runs into her again and this time, they're all grown up.

[sundaywonder]

the lost song : yoonmin

Getting ready to start fresh in life, physical education professor Park Jimin is just waiting to migrate to Australia with his daughter and girlfriend. Everything gets topsy-turvy when world-class music producer Min Yoongi—and also his secret ex-boyfriend—comes back home to South Korea to marry his it-girl fiancé. If that wasn’t bad enough for Jimin, Yoongi invites him to the wedding. It gets worse; it leaves him no choice but accept it to avoid spilling the beans.

Although the worst happened back then, it’s not enough for their forsaken what-ifs and unsaid feelings from making itself clear. The situation makes Jimin realize how jaded he was without Yoongi all the years they were apart—and vice versa. As they slowly pick up the broken pieces of the past, reality hits hard back at them again. There are two choices: to give up on love and live in the present or to run away and never look back.

Genre: Romance, Adult Fiction, Melodrama, Erotica

Fandom: BTS, BLACKPINK, Red Velvet, IU

Pairing: Suga & Jimin, Jimin & Rosé, Suga & Jennie, IU & Jungkook, Wendy & j-hope

Rating: M or R-18 — contains sensitive themes, strong language and graphic depiction of sexual activity

Status: Ongoing — 6/12

Link: Wattpad, ao3

Excerpt: The Flower Bloomed — 10 Years Ago

Yoongi, 20

I hurriedly go down the stairs while vigorously drying my head with a towel. I knew I would oversleep. Aside from being a deep sleeper, I’m also not used to waking up as early as 7 a.m. Nine is still pretty early if you’d ask me. The cool air last night made everything even worse. I shouldn’t have opened the windows.

Good thing my grandma heard Aunt Hyeja yelling outside our house. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t have even noticed that her and our other neighbors’ missed calls and text messages.

“Make sure none of the kids get injured, okay? We don’t have money for their hospital bills if ever,” reminds grandma as she followed me down. I don’t hear and comprehend what she said until five seconds later.

“Got it. Bye.” When I get out of our gate, I immediately see Aunt Hyeja who was waiting for me outside.

“We’ll get going, Auntie Dooshim!” exclaims Aunt Hyeja.

“Alright, have a safe trip!”

“I’m so sorry, Auntie. I really am.” She walks so briskly that I have a hard time catching up with her. Regardless, I feel like that’s how should it be; I must walk maybe two or three steps behind her after what I’ve done.

“Don’t think about it anymore. The kids are already in there. You know our numbers so contact us immediately if anything goes wrong. There’s a ton of food on the table so feed yourselves when you get hungry. Don’t leave at least one of them unattended. Never attend to the gate if it’s a stranger and refrain from telling them that an adult is not present—oh, how old are you again?”

“Twenty.”

“My bad. It slipped my mind that you’re already an adult. Anyway, did you understand everything clearly?” I just nod. Aunt Hyeja doesn’t seem to be mad but it’s fairly obvious that she’s already dying to leave. I discreetly peek at her watch which says 7:15 a.m. I can’t help but shake my head. I reminded myself endless times to do well in this babysitting gig but I still ended up ruining the first thing about it. There must be something really wrong with me.

After arriving in front of the home of my best friends, brothers Seokjin and Taehyung, she tells me, “Also, your Aunt Misun told me that Jimin won’t be able to attend the excursion because he’s sick. He’s going to be home alone today so I told him that he can contact you if he needs anything.”

I gulped as soon as I heard Jimin’s name and forced myself to act nonchalant. “W-what happened to him?” It was definitely hard to do so.

“He has fever,” she replied. “Don’t you guys get more written projects in lieu of not attending out-of-the-classroom activities?”

“Yes.”

“So, does it mean you like completing paperworks instead of attending trips and such?” I just let out a fake chuckle and nodded. I’m sure it wouldn’t sit with her when I say that I don’t like socializing and going to places with a lot of people. Aunt Hyeja is a social butterfly and—I don’t want to sound like I’m judging her (but maybe I am)—she’s not exactly the type of person to bother understand things deeper if it doesn’t concern her. Besides, it’s lengthy and we’re not that close for me to open up to her. An awkward giggle is probably better than an explanation.

The Kims already left when I entered and all the four kids were sleeping on the sofa in the living room, not even noticing my entrance. I decide to just sit on the floor and watch TV in low volume. My body is asking for me to sleep so badly that pinching myself isn’t working anymore. A faint regret is starting to form in my chest but I cut it out immediately.

After getting bored of the morning makjang drama that I forced myself to watch, I turn around to check on them. Jingoo—a cousin of Seokjin and Taehyung, as well as Namjoon who is also a cousin of the two—is already up but still lying on his stomach while silently watching the drama with me. Our eyes meet but he doesn’t say a word and just shifts his eyes back at the screen.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” I ask. Jingoo just nods. “What did you eat?”

“Seaweed rice balls and jeon.”

“Tell me when you’re hungry.” He just nods once again.

Our conversation awakens Taejoon, Chanbin and Yeongyu. Unlike Jingoo, they wanted to eat so I prepared the food that was left for us. Being alone with these kids who I barely know suddenly makes me feel weird for some reason. It’s probably because I don’t have any experience in babysitting. So far, it’s an alright deal. The money is good and you practically get paid to stay at home.

I leave them and go back to the living room, sitting beside Jingoo’s feet who hasn’t moved an inch ever since he woke up. “Where did they go?” He asks, not moving his eyes from the screen.

“A trip.”

“Event aunt and uncle? I thought it was a school trip.”

I let out a sigh and close my eyes. Some sort of hot energy constantly forms in my head the longer I talk to this kid.  “I don’t know why. Ask them when they come back later.”

It got rowdy when they started to play. This is way worse than I imagined. Toy cars and guns are all over the place and I need to remind them every two to three minutes that they shouldn’t be shooting bullets on the TV screen, as well as the vases and figurines. None of my words seem to get to their tiny heads.

I take back what I said. I don’t want to this ever again. I wasn’t like this when I was a kid. Even my friends. We weren’t anything like this. Not even close. We were well-liked by the neighborhood in general because of that.

Out of the blue, my phone suddenly vibrated. My heart almost dropped on the floor when I read Jimin’s name on the screen.

[JIMIN :)

1 NEW MESSAGE]

All of a sudden, my heart started to pound like it wanted to get out of my chest. I took a deep breath before flipping my phone and pressing View.

[JIMIN :)

Hey, can I go there? It’s getting a little boring here.]

[ME (draft)

Of course! Bring what you need!]

I delete it before I could even think twice. I cringed at what I just typed.

[ME (draft)

Okay, but it’s a little loud here]

Maybe not. He might end up not going if I say that.

[ME

Sure]

[JIMIN :)

I’ll bring ramen]

[ME (draft)

Okay]

I press the end call button and just fold my phone instead. I immediately go to the bathroom and wash my face with soap and water. I run my wet hands through my hair as well. Just as I got out, someone knocked on the door.

“Don’t shoot on anything!” I yell before walking out the door.

“Hey,” greets Jimin as soon as I open the gate. Unlike his usual self, the gloomy aura surrounding him can be clearly felt. His face and shoulders seem wretched as well.

“Are you alright? You look so pale.”

“Trying to be.”

“Stay in Seokjin’s or Taehyung’s room if you want to get some rest. It’s a little rowdy in the living room.”

“Thanks. I’ll go text him.”

As soon as I hear Seokjin’s bedroom door close, I make an announcement to the kids. “Jimin’s sick. Don’t make any loud noises from now on.” It did subside but only for a short while. “You kids, anyone who makes loud noises will not get to eat lunch.” They stop playing tok look at me with a weird expression on their faces, as if they’ve never heard someone say such a thing to them before. A hint of fear can also be seen. I fucked up again, didn’t I?

Unlike what I said, I started to prepare lunch when the clock hit noon. The kids gathered at the table and chowed down as soon as the food was ready. Meanwhile, I got my own food and ate in the living room.

[ME (draft)

Hey, lunch is ready. Can you go down here?]

[ME

Lunch is ready, feel free to eat here.]

[JIMIN :)

What’s for lunch?]

[ME

Pork belly, barbecue, dumplings, rice and kimchi]

[JIMIN :)

Damn, will go there ASAP]

I wipe the droplets of sweat on my forehead. My breath keeps on running as if they are trying to get away from something… or someone. I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about this. It only makes me go crazier and crazier. Even my well-trained emotional suppression skills are barely working. Helpless, hopeless—that’s what I am.

“Hey!”

“Shit!” I hold to my chest in shock and turn around. “I-it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. You okay? You’re deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice me pass in front of you,” asks Jimin.

I shake my head. “I just zoned out.”

“Shit!” Taejoon mimicks while the other three laugh.

“Shit!” Chanbin and Yeongyu repeat in unison which makes them laugh even harder.

“Are you kids an adult to say that?” I ask.

“Shit!” The three exclaim, not even bothering to answer me.

Suddenly, I hear Jimin giggle softly—making me look back at him. “So, you can already laugh. Feeling better now?”

He just nods with a faint smile and takes a spoonful of kimchi stew. “Mmm, delicious. Did you cook?”

“Nope, one their parents probably.”

Neither of us talked after that; I just pretended the focus on my food while his eyes wandered around the place. Even though it feels like I need to say something, not a single word’s coming to my mind. My mouth is left agape from the urge to speak but not knowing what to say. For some reason, it seems to me that he’s feeling the same way. But how can I know for sure?

The kids come back to the living room not long after they have finished eating. I couldn’t thank the heavens enough; this is the only time today that I’ve actually become happy about their presence. Before they can even settle on their seats, I stand up to play the first Disney DVD my hand landed on: The Incredibles.

Jimin passes behind me so I look at him. He’s bringing my dirty plate with him to the kitchen. “Hey, s-sorry. You didn’t have to.”

He looks back and says, “Huh?”

“The plate.”

“Psh. It’s nothing.”

I follow him to the sink where he’s silently washing the dishes. He almost looks like he’s zoned out and submerged in his deep thoughts.

“Hey!” I jokingly yell from his back.

“Sh—!” He accidentally loses his grip on the plate he’s holding. It falls back to the sink, causing a small chip on the edge. “Oh, no…”

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I try to catch my breath. The plate looks expensive with all those blue Chinese prints. It most definitely came from an expensive dinnerware collection and Mrs. Kim would kill me if she sees this. I might have to babysit for nine or ten more times just to pay for the damage.

“Don’t worry about it. It was an accident.”

“But it looks expensive!”

“I was the one who lost grip on it, what are you being so worried about?” Jimin says with a faint giggle. I’m not buying it; he doesn’t sound amused at all. “Also, wanna watch?” He nonchalantly asks.

“This?” I ask back, pointing at the TV.

He just shakes his head. “Seokjin has a big collection up there.” I just looked blankly at him, deliberately making it obvious that I need more details to get what he’s saying. “Sola Aoi, Asami Yuma, Haruna Hana and so much more. We have everything we need up there!” I feel my whole body suddenly heat up upon hearing what he just said and my legs seem like they want to give up on me. “Hey, you okay?”

“Th-the kids…”

He takes a peek at them. “They’re already asleep.”

I look back at the kids and close my eyes in panic. Images of him being half-naked while beating off instantly flash in my mind. I vigorously shake my head along those thoughts. I can’t count how many times I saw him naked in the past. We even used to take a bath together along with the other guys when were younger. But this time everything’s different, especially to me, and it sucks big time. “Okay, then…”

He opens the dish dryer and puts all the now-squeaky clean plates, glasses, spoons and forks. “Don’t be so nervous. They’ll probably stay asleep until twilight or something.”

“Maybe,” I replied to him even if his words just seemed to bounce against my head. Naked. Naked. Naked. My mind just doesn’t seem to get tired about this goddamn word and keeps asking for more. Now, even the way he looks and smiles at me is starting to mean something else.

Jimin grabs my arm and pulls me until we reach Seokjin’s room. Before I could even react, the door was already locked and his pants and underwear were on the floor. My manhood starts to throb and harden as soon as my eyes lands on his half-naked body. He’s grown much bigger and thicker ever since I last saw him. That was a few years ago—same situation as now but with Hoseok and Taehyung, minus the feelings. To stop myself from completely breaking down out of panic and ruining everything for good, including our friendship, I just turn my head at a random teddy bear on Seokjin’s bed.

I sit beside him on the carpet and before also taking off my short pants and underwear. A strange kind of electricity seemed to charge on my body when I saw him look at my manhood. His mouth slightly gaped but he immediately closed it and focused on operating the DVD player. Since the tapes weren’t labeled, we don’t know what those contained. Jimin chooses just whatever. The video begins, and we see Sola Aoi who was wearing a provocative nurse uniform enter the hospital room where the middle-aged male patient was in.

I lean on the bed to relax and force myself to focus on the film. Jimin’s already starting to touch himself. He looks back at me with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. It’s been a while since I did this with them but I’m sure we didn’t look at each other while beating off, or maybe I’m just forcing weird meanings. At this point, I can’t even trust myself anymore.

I couldn’t help but start to actually beat off as soon as Sola started to moan. All of us in our group likes her the most for how irresistible she sounds when she’s getting fucked. It makes the film feel like 5D.

The film already ended but neither of us reached climax yet. When I was almost there, I stopped. I don’t know why but I felt like I needed to do so. As I try to catch my breath, I watch him while he did his business.

To my surprise, Jimin also stops and joins me in leaning on the bed, panting hard. He looked at me straight in the eyes, then his gaze dropped on my lips. “They look dry…”

Before I even knew it, our lips were all over each other and his tongue has successfully penetrated my mouth. Jimin’s hands start to explore inside my shirt before pulling it off of me. He removes his own next. My hands are frozen on his groin in disbelief. Everything seems like a dream but all of these are a hundred percent real.

“Jimin…” I mindlessly say.

“Do whatever you want to do to me.” He grabs my hand and places it on top of his manhood. “Don’t hold back.”

I pull his head and kiss him hard before pushing him down. Only God and I know how much he looks good with nothing on but his golden rolo chain necklace. “As long as you let me, I won’t.”

—

If you’re reading until here, thank you so much! The Wattpad and ao3 links where you can read the whole story are available above.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Femslash February (Day 16)

Prompt: Blue Fandom(s): Winx & Avatar Pair: Azula/Icy

Summary: Icy pulls a woman out of Lake Roccaluce. A woman who can wield fire  but radiates no magical energy. Icy would like to take this power for her own.

It was the fire, that small flickering blue flame. It draws her in like a wraith to a pure white soul. She is a mystery, she is rather shrouded in it. Mostly she sleeps, and when she wakes she stares at that little blue flame in her palm. Icy thinks that something has broken in the women’s mind; that whatever has transported her here has left a part of her mind where she had been.

Icy runs a comb through her locks. She has already bathed the woman and dressed her for bed. Three days now. This is the longest she has slept for. Icy scoops her up and tucks her into bed. Any longer and she will have to take her to the hospital. Realistically she can’t care for her and food potions can only substitute so much.

She stares at the woman, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, it is the only sign that she is still alive. She picks up her hand and brushes her thumb over the woman’s soft skin. She is warm, she is always so warm. And she supposes that that is a good sign. As good a sign as it is for Icy to be perpetually frigid to the touch.

She brushes a strand of hair out of her face. Her hair is losing its gloss, it isn’t so shimmeringly black anymore. And the woman’s face is becoming hollow, subtly so but just enough to cause alarm. And Icy isn’t sure why she cares. Why this woman in particular leaves her inclined to extend care. The sort that Darcy and Stormy have been questioning for a while now. All she can say is that there is something about her. Something intriguing. Something powerful. Something that would suit their group so well.

This woman certainly isn’t a fairy, she doesn’t have the wings. But she has the magic. Icy sees that little flickering flame in her mind’s eye. It licks in shades of sapphire, it burns hotter than the dragonfire. So much hotter that Icy found herself drawing her whisperian crystal. It should have been easy pickings, to syphon that power from her. She would wake to find it gone and without a clue as to where it had gone. But there had been nothing to pull. No magical energy for the crystal to latch onto and yank.

This woman isn’t a fairy. She isn’t a witch. She has no magical energy and yet that small blue flame dances in her palm.

.oOo.

When she wakes she is still in this world, this strange place with its strange energies and technologies. Azula isn’t entirely sure that it is real at all. It might be that she has gotten herself killed trying to reach the bottom of that spirit pool. Just as possible, is that it has spit her out here in this world. She very vaguely remembers being pulled out of a much larger pond in a thick forest of pine.

She vaguely remembers a cold like none that she has ever felt before. She feels that cold now. It seeps into her bones and puts a queasiness in her belly. There is coldness in death. Cold is death. And maybe it is better this way…

“You’re awake again.”

Azula swallows. It is that woman, the ghost woman. She is always there. Staring with ice blue eyes. She holds herself tall and taller still with white-blue hair fashioned into a high ponytail. Her skin is so pale, so pale that it is nearly white as well.

Her words register. “I’m alive?”

“As far as I know.” The woman shrugs. “This is the first coherent conversation we’ve had. You’ve been here for almost a month. Generally speaking, the undead aren’t good for conversation.”

She can remember it in small blurs. Faint moments where she had woken in spurts to have a meal, toy with her fire, and--every now and then--change clothes. “The undead? You can talk to the undead?”

The woman shrugs again, “sure. Zombies, ghosts, the beasts that I conjure, my sleep paralysis demon…” she trails off.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Icy. Resident asshole. Famous for trying to take over the world. Probably shouldn’t be allowed back on this campus.”

Azula rubs her face.

“Oh, right. You don’t know anything about this world, do you?”

Azula shakes her head. And the longer she is awake in it, the less she understands. There are things she has never seen before and they are all over. Fixtures overhead that light up the room--candles without any flames, rectangles that ring and buzz, bigger and flatter rectangles that glow and flash images, and scrips and scrolls that are wedged and bound into...rectangles. Everything in this world is rectangular.

She dangles her legs over the side of the bed, a curtain of hair falls into her face. “What is this place?”

“Cloud Tower, school for witches. In the realm of Magix.”  

“Cloud Tower…” She furrows her brows. “Like the Air Temples?”

The woman laughs, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The Air Temples. Where all of the airbenders used to live. Before my nation eradicated them of course.”

“And where do you come from?”

“The Fire Nation.”

The woman makes a sound, “sounds dreadful.”

She is feeling weak and dizzy all over again. She slumps forward only to feel those cold hands holding her steady.

“Could you possibly stay awake for more than ten minutes? I have questions.”

Azula tries to shake the dizziness from her head. “You have questions? At least you’re in your own...universe.”

She quirks a brow. “True.” She kicks her feet up and rests them upon her dresser. “Just answer me this; what are you?”

“Excuse me?” Azula’s lip curls back. “I’m a human being.” But, Agni, in the back of her mind she hears it all over again. That nagging notion that she is a monster. Some warped, twisted thing.

“Humans can’t make fire with their hands. Fairies can, but you’re not a fairy.” She gestures between Azula’s shoulders. “And you aren’t a witch. You don’t have that…energy. You don’t have magical energy at all. And yet…”

Azula holds her hand out and lets the fire ignite. She closes her eyes and drinks in it’s comforts.

“What are you?”

“I am a human being.” She repeats.

“If you are human, then what do you call those without magic?”

“Nonbenders.” She replies. “That was more than one question.”

“Yes, well you’re going to answer as many questions as I ask.”

Azula gives a haughty sniff. If nothing else, this woman is bringing her back to herself rather quickly. “And why would I do that? Do you think that I haven’t been trained to withstand interrogation?”

“I think that you have no idea what our magic can do. Does your fire come with the ability to…” the frigid woman snaps her fingers and the flameless candle resting on the nightstand shifts into a snake and slithers out of the room.

Azula swallows.

“One time I turned this happy-go-lucky, wannabe witch into a pumpkin. She wasn’t so perky and cheerful then. You don’t strike me as a pumpkin though. Maybe a lizard of some sort.”

Azula narrows her eyes. “I can’t imagine that you’d get many answers from a lizard.” She drops herself back to the pillow and rolls away from this loathsome woman--Icy, she reminds herself.

“You never told me your name.”

“Azula. Princess Azula.”

.oOo.

So another fire princess. Icy would ponder that this woman is Bloom, perhaps from another universe, but she has too much bite. No, that isn’t it. The fairy has bite. This woman has something else. A darkness, a cunning, she can sense it on her in the same way that it radiates off of Darcy.

It is as compelling as her little blue flame. Decidedly she won’t transform the woman into anything, not permanently at least. This Princess Azula is too interesting for something like that.

“I have one more question.”

Azula doesn’t answer, she simply rubs her cheek against the pillow.

“Are you going to start feeding and bathing yourself now or am I going to have to continue?”

The woman’s face goes red. “I am perfectly capable.” She replies stiffly and with an even more rigid, “thank you.”

Well mannered, this one. She might not enjoy Stormy so well. “Well, when you’re more awake, I can introduce you to my sisters.”

“With luck, you’ll never meet my brother.” Azula grumbles. She rolls onto her back and stretches her arms. “Get me something to drink.”

“I don’t take orders. I give them.” Icy replies plainly.

“You aren’t a princess. You take orders.”

Icy quirks a brow, “see that’s the thing, you aren’t a princess here. You aren’t anything at all, really. How can you be when you probably shouldn’t exist here at all. I’ll get you your drink, princess, but consider it a charity.”

She expects the girl to chuck a ball of that strange blue fire and then toss a barrage of furious insults. Instead the girl sits back up and stares at her with a petrifyingly blank expression. She holds her hand out. Oh the dark energy that radiates off of this one is sublime. It holds a coldness that Icy can bask in.

She plucks the glass into her hand. “I don’t like many things, princess, I don’t like anything at all really. Or anyone. But I think that you’ll do just well with me and my sisters.”  

[deadanddeactivated]

Baby Brothers, Brothers Baby

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairing: Brotherly Virgil & Patton, Patton & Thomas Characters: Virgil, Patton, Thomas, Roman (Mentioned) Notes: Also called: Kail wants more Older Brother Virgil dang it.  And if you want more of this, please let me know.  Or I probably wont write it.  I need validation. Summary: When someone starts knocking at his door at 11pm, Virgil isn't sure what he's expecting but it's definitely not his baby brother. Or what his baby brother is holding.

AO3

--

Virgil was in the process of pinning a rather complicated piece of suit jacket when a knock jolted him out of his focus.  Frowning, he looked to the alarm clock he kept by his sewing table to save him from his tendency to get lost in his work.

Who the hell was knocking at his door at 11pm?

Surely princey was getting his precious beauty sleep by now.  Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t rock up unannounced.  Not this late.  Unless…?

But no, Virgil hadn’t missed any messages from princey.  Who then?

The knocking came again and Virgil sighed, removing the pins from their place resting between his teeth.  Only one way to find out, right?  Here’s hoping he didn’t get murdered or whatever.

“I’m coming.”  He assured the frantic knocker.  As he drew closer to the door he could hear someone… crying?  And someone else trying to shush them.  What the hell?

Cracking his apartment door open just a little, Virgil immediately unlatched the chain and opened it fully.

“Patton?”  He asked, frowning.  The boy in front of him looked nothing like the eight year old Virgil had last seen.  He was a teenager now, all too long limbs and diminishing baby fat.  With a mop of unruly brown hair on his head and a pair of black glasses framing his sky blue eyes.  He was dressed in a too-big grey hoodie and ruffed up jeans.  Even so, his little brother was as familiar to Virgil as the back of his hand.

The bundle of fusing, tiny human in Patton’s arms was not familiar.

“I didn’t, I didn’t know where else to go.”  Patton managed.  Despite his attempts to shush the baby, he was practically sobbing himself.  Had been for a while, by how red his eyes looked.  

Jesus, what had Virgil missed?

“It’s okay Pat.”  He assured.  “Come on in.”  He opened the door wider, moving to the side.  Patton shuffled in, still trying to calm the crying bundle in arms Virgil realized where shaking.  Once the elder had closed and relocked the door, he held out his arms to his little brother.

“Pass them here.”  He said softly.  Carefully, Patton handed the baby over and Virgil started bouncing them on his shoulder.  “So,” he started, probably best to address the tiny elephant in the room right away, “whose this?”

“His name’s Thomas.”  Patton mumbled, suddenly looking like he was being scolded.  He played with the straps of his backpack.  A backpack much too small to be much use when running away.  “He’s um, he’s, well…”  But Patton couldn’t finish.

“Yours?”  Virgil guessed, noting the way Patton braced himself before nodding.  Like he was expecting shouting, or violence.

Virgil knew exactly who taught him that.

“They didn’t take it well?”  Virgil guessed again.  This time the nod was a little less hesitant.  Trying to hold in a sigh, knowing Pat would take it the wrong way, Virgil decided not to press further.  Thomas started to settle some, likely calmed by his steady shoulders and even breathing.  Couldn’t lose that stressing over parents he’d long since cut out.

“The mother?”  Virgil asked.

“She didn’t want him.”  Patton answered.  “But I did!  I do!”  He added, with more confidence than anything else he’d said all night.  “We just, we just don’t have anywhere to stay.”  Ah, and there went that confidence again.  As well as the eye-contact.

“Pat, you’re staying here.”  Virgil said firmly.  “No way am I letting you raise a kid alone, you’re practically a kid.  You’re staying with me until you’re at least eighteen, maybe longer.  We’ll talk about it when you’re eighteen.”  Virgil tried not to wince at his own tone.  Did he sound too demanding?  Of course he wasn’t going to stop Patton if he wanted to leave, he wasn’t a prison warden.  But Virgil didn’t want Patton thinking he had to leave, or that he had to work towards leaving one day.

Thankfully Patton seemed to get the message, face breaking out into a real grin.

“Thank you Virgil.”  He said, moving in for a tight hug.  Virgil shifted Thomas so he could hug Patton with one arm.  

“Nothing to thank me for Pat, obviously.”  Virgil huffed.  “We’ll have to go get some baby stuff tomorrow.  Hopefully the store is still open and we can get some formula and diapers.”  Those were the essentials, right?  Where there other essentials for babies?  God, Virgil was going to need to do some serious research tonight.  He’d finished the suit jacket later.

“I’ve already some stuff.”  Patton assured, letting go of Virgil to rush to his kitchen bench.  He set his backpack on the bench and started to pull things out.  Diapers, different brands but all the same size, as well as a packet of wipes.  Formula, a baby bottle, a partly empty bottle of water, a spoon.  A slightly crumpled birth certificate.  Even a small assortment of baby clothes joined the little pile.  

Objectively, Virgil knew all these items were very important and that it was very good Patton had them.  The twenty-four hour store down the road didn’t exactly have a large range of things beyond late night snacks and energy drinks.  

Objectively, Virgil also knew these items had taken up a lot of space in a small, not very full looking backpack.  

“Where are your things?”  He asked.  The smile fell from Patton’s face once more, the teenager giving a shrug.

“It’s okay, I can get new things later.”  He mumbled.  “And I don’t mind wearing my clothes for a week or two, they don’t smell much.”  Virgil frowned deeper.

“Patton, how long have you been wearing those clothes?”  He pressed, getting another shrug in response.

“A few days maybe.”  Patton mumbled.  Virgil didn’t live far from his parent’s home, the city was only a few hours travel at most.  A very intentional effort on his part to be closer to his brother.

“Where have you been staying?”  Virgil asked.  Patton looked like he wasn’t going to answer but Virgil wasn’t stepping down.  Eventually the teenager gave in, shoulders slumping.

“The hospital.”  He admitted.  “Mum and Dad said I couldn’t come home if I was coming home with Thomas, and I wasn’t just going to give up Virg.  But they had to check him over and I was worried if I went home someone would take him away.”  Patton confessed in one long breath.

“Jesus Patton.”  Virgil couldn’t hold back his emotions this time, concern and worry seeping into his tone.  “Why didn’t you call me?”

“They took away my phone when they found out.”  Patton said.  “But it was okay!  The nurses were really nice, and they didn’t mind me staying there!  Harriet even taught me how to make up the formula and feed him.  Her sister just had a baby, and she had spare clothing so she gave me some!  And Markus showed me how to change a diaper and he always had extra lunch!  And see, this way you won’t have to worry about any of that stuff too, I can do it!”  

Jesus Patton.  This time Virgil managed to keep the words in, only just.  Thomas had fallen asleep against his shoulder, Virgil wasn’t about to wake him up by freaking out.  Even if there was a whole boatload of questions to be had.  Still, Virgil took a deep breath and pushed them aside.  He couldn’t change the past, only right now.

“Have you eaten today?”  He asked, deciding to focus on that.  Patton stumbled on his words and that was all the answer Virgil needed.  “Okay, we’re having dinner then.”  He decided, trying to remember if he had food in the apartment.  Ordering in sounded like a mess of people he didn’t want to deal with today.

“I can cook!”  Patton suggested.  

“No.”  Virgil shot that down immediately, sighing when Patton’s entire face fell.  That came off harsher than he meant it too.  “Pat, you’re a terrible cook.”  He pointed out, tone teasing this time.  “Besides, you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, but you’re already doing so much.”  Patton argued.

“I haven’t done anything yet.”  Virgil claimed.  “I’ve grilled you for answers and ordered you to move in.  You don’t owe me anything.”  He added, tone firm and leaving no room for argument even though he knew that Patton wanted to.  

“Go have a shower Pat, you can borrow my clothes for the night.  I’ll make us up scrambled eggs, yeah?  That’ll be nice.”  And he should definitely have eggs.  “We’ll sort everything else out in the morning.”

“...Okay.”  Patton agreed.  

“Okay.”  Virgil nodded.  “Here, hold Thomas again while I grab you some clothes.”  Instantly, Patton tensed up.

“But what if I wake him up and make him cry again?”  He asked, panicked.

“You won’t if you stay calm.”  Virgil promised.  “Babies can sense that kind of thing.  Just keep breathing steady and Thomas’ll be fine.”  

“Okay.”  Patton sounded a lot less sure about this okay.  It was hard not to laugh as Patton held his breath while Virgil handed Thomas over but, when Thomas didn’t immediately start screaming his head off, the young father relaxed.

“There you go.”  Virgil said softly.  “Wait right here.”  Quickly but quietly, Virgil went to his room and found a shirt and pair of track pants that looked about right.  Then he grabbed a towel and placed the pile neatly on the edge of the sink in the bathroom.  When he came back to the kitchen Patton was still standing where he left him.  He definitely wasn’t tense anymore, smiling softly at the baby in his arms and whispering promises Virgil couldn’t hear.

“Bathroom’s all ready.”  Virgil said, almost a little sad he had to ruin the moment.

“You promise you’ll look after him?”  Patton asked, tone too soft and vulnerable for Virgil to feel insulted.

“I promise.”  He said, taking Thomas back into his arms.  Patton still hesitated a moment before heading into the shower.  Hopefully he’d still have a proper one.

Virgil bounced Thomas a moment but he’d need both his hands to cook.  Thankfully the couch was in sight of the kitchen, so Virgil stacked up the pillows to create a makeshift crib and placed Thomas in it.  He’d have to thank Roman and his obsession with ‘decor pillows’ later.

Of course he couldn’t let Thomas sleep there all night, Virgil thought as he started on dinner.  He’d have to go buy a crib tomorrow but for tonight hopefully he could use the pillow crib on the main bed.  Plus have him and Pat on either side.  It was a double bed so they should all fit, right?  They’d have to, it was sort of the only option they had right now.

Problem A solved, Virgil started to dwell on problem B - where was he meant to put the crib.  His apartment wasn’t particularly big, there was his bedroom, his sewing room, the bathroom, and then the combined living kitchen area.  Which meant he’d have to clear out his sewing room, which could take some time.  

Then of course there was problem C, how the hell was Virgil meant to raise his brother and his nephew?

Nope, not thinking of that yet.  Virgil wasn’t even finished with problem B.  No time to dread problem C.

He finished up the eggs and collected Thomas from the couch, not sure Patton would want to see the baby in a pillowfort.  Conveniently, Patton appeared from the bathroom a few minutes later.

“Dinner’s ready.”  Virgil said.  They were quiet as they ate, the exhaustion clearly catching up with Patton while Virgil got lost in his thoughts.  When they were done, and Virgil had stirred Patton away from the dishes, they moved to the bedroom.

“I can take the couch.”  Patton argued, words a little slurred.

“None of that.”  Virgil said.  “Thomas isn’t sleeping on the couch, and you should be sleeping with him.  Parental bonding or something.”  Virgil had grabbed that out of thin air but Patton was too tired to argue.  He settled on the bed, curled around protectively around Thomas.  He was asleep before Virgil had finished setting up the pillow walls.

Virgil stepped out of the room, finally letting the weight of this land on his shoulder.  God.  This was a terrifying mess and Virgil had no idea what to do about it.  

All he could do was be there for Patton he supposed.

And, maybe, call a friend.

[littleoldrachel]

i am burned out (i smell of smoke)

okay, look. I wasn’t gonna post this until it was FINISHED because i am trying to learn to actually finish my wips. but. the world is sorta falling apart and i hope that maybe i can help even one person feel temporarily less anxious about it all. 

i wrote this for @gumnut-logic‘s birthday and am now over a month late, so! good! (so sorry nutty, you’re so incredible at blessing us with your words, i just wanted to do something nice for you since you’re so so good to us)

my love for virgil tracy + my silent lurking in this fandom have brought this about. i never thought i’d be writing thunderbirds fanfiction and yet. here we are (my father would be so disappointed in me).

this is my first time writing these characters, as will become painfully clear. pls be nice to me, i am fragile lol. i am horribly aware that my virg is probably too ‘floppy’ as per your post, nutty, so sorry in advance! this is me whumping your boy emotionally and mentally, but i’m gonna fix him, i swear! there are five parts (i have written the first three). 

virgil is always written as being very good at taking care of his mental health, and it occurred to me that some of the best people at this have had to learn to be that way, and so I guess this is an exploration of that? anyway, have some virgil aggressively loving his family. 

brains isn’t in this and kayo isn’t much either sorryyy. oh my GOd shut up, here you go:

i am burned out (i smell of smoke) [on ao3]

summary: in which virgil falls apart, learns how to put himself back together, and realises he doesn't have to do it alone.

word count: 2.8k ish (part 1/5)

warnings: mental health issues

timeline: i suppose this is set in early TAG verse?  jeff is missing and nobody is Coping Well.

happy belated birthday, nutty!! <3

i.

He isn’t quite sure where it began. Somewhere between three back-to-back rescues, pulling a child’s body from thick, black mud, and failing to reach the scientist before smoke ravaged her lungs, a weight settles in his chest that none of his usual coping mechanisms can shift. 

To say it’s been a hard week would be an understatement, but then again, they’ve had hard weeks before. Any time a rescue mission turns into a recovery mission, they all feel it - how can they not? - but this time, this time is different. 

Perhaps it was seeing the kid’s mother break down completely at the sight of such a small corpse. Perhaps it was the abuse hurled at him and his brothers by the scientist’s girlfriend for failing to rescue her soulmate in time. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion and pain, perhaps it was feeling ribs break under the force of his CPR efforts, perhaps it was knowing that in spite of it all, it wasn’t enough. 

It’s like he can’t quite draw a full breath. Like his throat has half-closed and tears are creeping at the back of his eyes, but neither is willing to break the damn. It’s the heaviest kind of emptiness he’s ever known. 

And so Virgil forces it away - or if not away, then at least to one side - whilst he takes care of brothers who need to talk about the horrors they have just witnessed and the fresh guilt they now bear. He’ll take care of himself later (probably) and then he’ll finally be able to shift that god-awful weight on his lungs. It’s fine. 

*

Alan is easy enough to handle; Virgil’s pedestal will never be as high as Scott’s or John’s but he’s still Alan’s big brother, and Alan feeds on reassurance and praise. Virgil knows that both Scott and John will be in later to check on their youngest too, but for now, Alan needs him. 

“You did well today, kiddo,” Virgil says, leaning against the doorframe to Alan’s suite. His littlest brother is lying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. 

Alan blinks slowly, twists to meet his eyes. Overly-bright cornflower blues meet steady browns and Virgil catches the tremble of Alan’s lower lip with an aching heart. 

“You did, Allie.” Virgil strides across the room and has Alan scooped into a hug within seconds. “All those people are gonna wake up tomorrow because of you.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough, Virg,” whispers Alan. “So many people didn’t make it.” 

“I know.”

(The weight on his chest and struggle to breathe will never let him forget it). 

Alan sighs, rests his head on his brother’s broad chest. “I just - I keep remembering her face. When she realised I couldn’t save her. I close my eyes and she’s just - there.” He closes his eyes and digs the heels of his palms into them.

He’s so young. It’s not the first time that Virgil has had doubts about forcing this responsibility on a teenager, but it is the first time Alan’s watched someone die in his arms and none of Virgil’s carefully crafted words will change that. Especially not now, whilst the pain is raw and jagged and demanding to be felt - no, Virgil and his brothers will be helping him to untangle this over the next few weeks.

“Wanna play something?” he asks instead. 

The response is less enthusiastic than usual, but soon Alan has a fragile smile on his lips as he thrashes Virgil’s Princess Peach with Waluigi (and so what if Virgil deliberately chooses the tracks he knows he’s shit at just to make Alan chuckle when he falls off Rainbow Road again?). 

*

His water-loving brother won’t be so easy (though of course, there’s nothing easy about watching someone so young trying to carry the weight of the world). Still, Gordon is at least predictable in his frustrated misery and rolls his eyes as he sees Virgil coming towards the pool with a towel in hand. 

“I’m not in the mood, Virg,” he calls, before hurling himself underwater and sinking to the bottom of the pool. 

It’s Virgil’s turn to roll his eyes, but he kicks off his shoes, sits on the poolside and dangles bare feet into the water, waiting. When Gordon finally emerges from the water, annoyance flickers across his face at the sight of his waiting brother, and he turns, kicking away from Virgil with a powerful breaststroke. 

Virgil waits until Gordon’s swum four lengths before speaking. “How are you doing?”

Gordon’s perfect rhythm barely falters as he grabs his brother’s leg and yanks, pulling Virgil into the pool and immediately swimming away. Virgil shakes the water from his hair, internally cursing his stubborn-ass younger brother and treads water until Gordon reaches his end of the pool again. 

“How many lengths is that?”

Gordon ignores him, switching fluidly into butterfly stroke and splashing away from him once more. 

Virgil can’t help but sigh; his limbs are aching and his chest is heavy and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed. But his younger brother is hurting - emotionally, sure, judging by the way he’s slicing through the water like it’s done him wrong, but physically too if the minute winces are anything to go by. (And Virgil can’t stand it). 

The next time Gordon comes by, Virgil is ready. He seizes his brother around the middle, and bodily drags him to the edge of the pool. He doesn’t often use his size and strength against his brothers, but this time calls for it. Once out of the water, the fight goes out of Gordon, and he staggers, murmuring “ow, ow, ow, ow.”

“Come here, you idiot.” Virgil pulls Gordon into a shady spot by the loungers, and begins helping Gordon stretch out overworked muscles. Gordon hisses as Virgil presses down on his calf muscle. “Sorry, Gordo.”

“S’okay.” Gordon glares up at the sky. “Just stupid cramp.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil shakes his head. “Yeah, that or the fact you’re reliving your Olympic training after having been up for forty-eight hours straight.”

“You know if you keep doing that, your face will get stuck.”

Virgil pulls a hideous face, then grins in response to Gordon’s laugh. It feels good to smile, it shifts the weight on his lungs the tiniest bit. 

“Flip over and I’ll do your back.”

“Virgil Tracy, you’re a goddamn saint,” Gordon declares, obediently flopping onto his stomach. 

There’s a pause whilst Virgil runs expert hands over the rock-like knots in Gordon’s back and Gordon melts into the mattress. When Virgil next speaks, his voice is gentle even as his hands dig in: “You know that punishing yourself isn’t going to bring them back.”

Gordon tenses then sighs. “Damnit, Virg. Can’t a guy get a massage without psychoanalysis?”

But his voice is a great deal lighter than it would have been even half an hour before.

*

His wrists are aching by the time he drags himself out to the cliff edge where Kayo likes to perch. 

His brothers have different uses for this particular stretch of rock: Scott likes to end his morning runs here by stretching in the breeze off the waters. For John, it’s a spectacular place to stargaze, not least because it’s so very quiet and dark up here. Gordon can often be found diving off these rocks, cheered on by Alan, much to the constant stress of their oldest brother, who attributes more than seventy percent of his grey hairs to this cause. 

For Kayo, it’s a watchpost. Her stormy eyes skim the horizon for non-existent threats, calculating, calm, controlled. And after a bad rescue (or three), she sits and waits for hours at a time, gazing into choppy waves and brilliant sunsets with the loneliest eyes Virgil has ever seen. He’s supposed to sit with Kayo in silence until she tells him what she needs from him, be it a hug, his presence, or just distance. 

This time, she makes it clear the moment he pads towards her, fading into the rocks like she was never even there. Distance, then.

*

John is possibly the hardest to handle of all his siblings, purely because he’s the hardest to get a hold of. John knows Virgil’s antics only too well, knows that a meaningful conversation about how he feels is coming, and has therefore made himself scarce. 

 Virgil sighs as John misses (read: rejects) his third call in a row. Two can play at that game, Jonny.

Instead, he dials straight through to EOS. 

She answers him immediately, as usual. “Virgil. I have been anticipating your call.”

“You have?”

“You have all had unsuccessful missions. You always call after missions with a body count.”

Virgil swallows, fresh guilt rising in his throat, and forces it back down. 

“Please can you put me through to John, EOS?”

“Of course, Virgil.”

Silence for a second, and then John’s hologram appears. His red-headed brother is studiously avoiding eye contact, hands darting over controls in an anxious pattern.

“This isn’t a good time, Virgil, I’m busy rerouting some calls to local emergency services, and-”

“John.”

“-and there’s a call from Tehran that really needs me, so if that’s all-”

“John.”

Silence. 

“How long since you last ate?” 

John’s eyes meet Virgil’s and he looks away at once. “Uh… this morning?”

“Negative,” EOS chimes in, “last intake was twenty-six hours ago.”

John’s jaw clenches. “Thanks, EOS.”

“John, you need to eat.”

“Smother Brother.”

“I’m serious.”

EOS pipes up again, “John also needs to rest. He has been operating for twice the recommended period of time.” 

John glowers, but says nothing.

“Don’t make me set Scott on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Virgil raises his eyebrows and John sighs loudly in frustration. “I will. I will. I just - thinking about food makes me feel nauseous. Like…” He swallows, looks away. “Like I’m eating mud.”

The sharp hurt in Virgil’s heart twinges violently and he wishes more than anything he could wrap John up in a bearhug and stop the world from hurting him. “What if I’m here whilst you try?” he asks softly.

Another sigh. “Fine. But only if you eat something too,” John says. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that your stomach was growling even louder than Two’s engines on the way home.”

“Smother Brother,” Virgil’s voice is hopelessly fond, even as he goes to make a sandwich that he can’t face eating (which for him, is a bad sign - he who has forced down Grandma’s inedible chilli through sheer willpower and love). The bread is hard and tasteless, the filling bitter. He chokes down a half slice, focusing instead on the fact that his younger brother is carefully chewing at his toasted bagel, eyelids heavy. Eventually, John’s shoulders slump, and his head lolls back into slumber.

His work here is done. 

Well, almost -

“Hey, EOS?”

“Yes, Virgil?” 

“Can you put that playlist I made him on a loop?”

“Of course, Virgil. Venus Bringer of Peace is now playing.”

There. 

*

His oldest brother is hurting. Virgil doesn’t need ESPN or whatever freaky connection Gordon and Alan accuse them of having to know that. 

There was a death toll, and therefore Scott will be hurting. Every life lost becomes a personal fault for the man, and nothing Virgil says or does will change that. They have this argument every two or three weeks, increasingly frequently as the months since their father’s disappearance have ticked into years. And he’s so very tired of rehashing the same words over again and again, he’s so tired of being utterly powerless against his brother’s borderline suicidal recklessness, he’s so tired of his uselessness in convincing Scott to stop treating his life like some replaceable trinket.

(So very, very tired).

And yet, Virgil stands in the doorway to his father’s office, bracing himself for yet another battle with his older brother.

Because taking care of the idealistic, brash, self-flagellating workaholic is what he does best - especially when said idealistic, brash, self-flagellating workaholic least wants it.

Scott is hunched over the desk, poring over debriefs with an almost-empty glass of something amber in his left hand. Virgil makes a mental note to re-encrypt the code to the drinks cabinet - Scott had cracked it far too quickly last time, but he doesn’t stand a chance against John…

“Hey, Scott,” he finally enters the room, but his brother doesn’t even spare him a glance. Virgil takes the seat opposite him - the one he used to sit in as his father waxed lyrical about his dream of an elite rescue organisation (it hurts) - and waits. 

After five or so minutes, Scott looks up blearily, blinking in surprise. “Virg? What are you - when did you-”

“It’s gone midnight, Scott. We agreed you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

A muscle in Scott’s jaw twitches. He’s wound tight from alcohol and stress, and it hurts Virgil to see it.  “I have to get this done.”

“Not at one am, you don’t.”

“Don’t start, Virg, you know debriefs are essential - you know I have to - to -”

“To what?” 

“What?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you have to get done? What’s so important that it can’t wait till you’ve at least slept?”

Scott breaks - quicker than usual (thank you, whiskey) which is a relief, because Virgil’s energy is down to its last droplets; hell, it’ll be a miracle if he even makes it to his room after this. 

“To figure out where we fucked up! To explain to the fire services that we did fuck-all for their rescue efforts! To figure out why I wasn’t fast enough to get to those children! I have to - to know,” he flings himself to his feet and begins pacing. “Fifty-four people died today, that’s fifty-four lives we should have saved, and I have to know why we failed so it never happens again.” He slams both hands down on the table, scattering papers to the floor. His eyes are wild and slightly bloodshot, and Virgil’s heart aches for the pain in those cerulean blues. 

The fight leaves Virgil’s spirit, because for once, he’s having a hard time reconciling his own failings with the number of bodies he’s pulled from mud and rock today. Usually, he is the first to reassure his brothers that they did all they could. But on a day like today, with the weight of whatever-it-is on his chest, it’s just not good enough. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to leave Scott alone in his pain. 

“What can I do?” Virgil asks quietly, and Scott stares at him. 

A pause. “Just - just be here,” Scott allows at last, sinking back into his chair. 

“Always,” Virgil says, and he means it, even through the fog of this exhausted, low, heavy feeling. 

“You okay?” Scott says, looking him over with a frown, and Virgil curses internally, because of course, Scott notices what none of his other siblings have. 

“As much as any of us are right now,” Virgil answers, as honestly as he can. Scott clearly doesn’t quite believe him, because he keeps shooting Virgil surreptitious glances laden with concern, but he lets it go. Perhaps he too lacks the energy to fight him on this. 

(It’s not enough and Virgil knows it. It’s not enough to stop his brother from working himself into an early grave and it’s not enough to blame poor construction work for the collapse of a tower block when he should have been able to save them).

(He’s not enough). 

*

He’s exhausted. He had thought he was shattered before, but now - 

The heaviness in his chest is a gaping wide hole, and the edges are raw and ragged from trying to hold himself together. His throat closes and clogs, but the tears won’t come, even as misery wells inside of him.

He looks blankly at the piano he sometimes uses to pull himself back from edges like these - edges that plunge down, down, down into an abyss he daren’t explore. Only the tug in his chest isn’t there. The canvas on his easel remains blank, his paintbrush untouched. Hell, even the idea of a nice, hot shower has him cringing at the effort and self-care involved.

What the hell’s the matter with him? 

He can’t quite explain it, and for one usually so attuned to others’ emotions, this awful lowness is startling. Because it’s more than lowness, and it’s more than heaviness - it’s more like a complete absence of feeling, an emptiness that he doesn’t know how to name. 

Perhaps, it will shift in the morning. Perhaps, this is the consequence of pushing yourself to over-exhaustion and beyond, and then expelling what little energy remains to support your loved ones. Sleep will help, Virgil tells himself. Rest makes everything better, you will be better in the morning.

[marquis1305]

Silk and Steel Ch 6

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5

AO3 Link

Rating: Mature

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Reader

Additional Tags:

Slow Burn, Reader-Insert, Florists, Reader is an Enhanced Individual, Nick Fury Knows All, SHIELD, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Bucky Barnes Feels, Protective Steve Rogers, Hydra (Marvel), enhanced!reader, Reader’s Brother works for SHIELD, POV Female Character, James “Rhodey” Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Rhodey is skeptical, Vision is curious, Tony feeds good behavior with blueberries, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Blueberries, backstory incoming, The Winter Soldiers - Freeform, Fragmented Teamwork, You like making quips as much as the next person, Tony Stark’s Nickames, Bucky Barnes’s Metal Arm, That whirring sound it makes

Summary: 

It's the morning after movie night and your first full day in the Facility. Time to meet the last member of your team and do a bit of light stretching. After breakfast of course.

—————————————————————–

Chapter 6: The Morning

With a soft hum, you curled into the pleasant scent pressed into your cheek. Trying to comprehend it’s source through a sleep fogged brain. Your arms curling tighter about whatever it was. Nuzzling against what felt like a soft fabric. 

Realizing all at once that the smell was definitely not something that belonged to you, nor anything you owned. 

It was then that you managed to come to the realization that you had fallen asleep at some time the night before. And now you were tucked neatly into the bed you had claimed, still in the clothing that you had worn the day before. But with the new addition of one rather overly comfortable sweater half balled against your face, the rest draped over your body and held tightly to you. 

The scent was familiar in a way that attempted to drag your hazy brain further towards waking. A lazy attempt at placing it even as you yawned. 

Sitting up all at once, you realized why it was familiar. 

Bucky. 

He had been here, in this room. On this bed.

Frowning as you glanced around the room, finding it empty of any other occupants, unchanged but for a small white bit of paper laid out on the dresser, obviously torn from a notebook. Flipping the blankets back, you scooted to the edge of the bed, unwilling to let go of the sweater. It was too warm, too soft, it had no right being that perfect for a damn sweater. It had nothing to do with the prior owner.

Prior as in it absolutely belonged to you now. Finders Keepers.

Leaning over as far as you dared in the attempted to read the note without leaving the bed. A rather impossible task that left you whining softly. Padding across the floor. 

A secondary realization that he had taken your shoes off before putting you to bed flitting through the back of your mind, causing a soft blush to rise to your cheeks. 

Rather militaristic handwriting scrawled across the page. 

‘You fell asleep near the end of the movie. Didn’t want you uncomfortable, but you seemed reluctant to have me go in your half comatose state. The sweater was apparently the only acceptable compromise. Hope you got some good rest, you needed it Doll. 

Told everyone to let you rest. Food should be ready on the counter in the morning, unless you manage to beat me to waking… Not likely. Eat your fill, then meet us in the training room. Captain’s orders… The punk.

-B’

You blinked down at the page. Having to read it over a second time to come to your third rather important revelation in the moment. 

You had asked him to stay. The memory was blurry, and honestly you had thought you had dreamt it. Something about him being a walking furnace and requiring his services in duty to his country by keeping you warm. 

The realization caught in your throat, forcing you to swallow past the growing lump. Not only had he gone and gotten the sweater for you, something he hadn’t even been wearing at the time, but he had taken the time to write you a note. 

And apparently seen to breakfast as well. 

The prospect of food gave you a good reason to shove down the rest of the thoughts coming to the surface. He was just being a gentleman. That’s what guys in the forties were like. He was a fossil, out of time. Nothing more. Captain America likely would have offered to do the same. Heck even Tony would have had something brought in. You were a guest. Nothing more to it. 

The rationalizations sounded weak even in your head. 

With a sigh, you slipped the sweater over your head, deciding it wasn’t worth overthinking any more than you already were. Then rifled through the drawer to see if there were any bottoms that might fit you. Settling on a loose pair of sweat pants to match the sweater. A black to go beneath the charcoal grey. 

Comfort would be important if they expected you to take part in any sort of training. 

Finally peeking out from your doorway to find the floor near deserted. The scent of food leading you through the hall towards the kitchen. 

When you finally arrived, you found it difficult to keep your mouth from falling open. The entire countertop piled all with assorted food. Everything from sausages, chorizo and bacon to omelettes; french toast to crepes; platters piled high with pancakes; even the fixings ready for an eggs benedict… with homemade hollandaise sauce. 

Steve sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee while flipping through a newspaper, a half demolished plate of food pushed off to one side. “There you are, thought you might end up sleeping half the day away.” He chuckled as he turned baby blue eyes up towards you. “Bucky got a bit carried away this morning, not sure if he remembered that only two of us are actually super soldiers. Used to get like this with his mom and sisters too, cook up a storm the minute one of them got upset.”

His smile fond with the memory before sipping at the coffee once more. “Feel free to get anything you like. Tony already stopped by for his breakfast, Natasha slipped away some french toast as soon as it was done cooking. I think we’re expecting one more in today, but I assume that there will be more than enough to feed Queens, even if he is a growing boy.” 

Nodding almost dumbly, you turned to start picking at what sounded the most appetizing. Filling your plate with as much as you could stand. Taking the seat opposite Steve. Watching him carefully as you ate. 

“You know you can actually talk to me, right?” He teased without looking up. 

“Sorry, this is still sort of sending my head spinning.” Responding softly between bites, you turn your gaze back down to your food. 

“I can only imagine. I think all of us came to that point sooner or later. Realizing that we weren’t just some nobody anymore… Well… all of us except maybe Natasha or Tony. Pretty sure Tony has always expected the spotlight, and Natasha… well you don’t just end up like her.” A wry smile tugging at his lips before looking to you once more. “It’s okay to be nervous about it, or to feel like you don’t fit in. I know these guys will do their best to make you comfortable, but it doesn’t always work that way.” 

You aren’t entirely certain if you imagine the glance down to the sweater you are wearing. Or the way his smile ticks just a moment. But you simply nod. “Right. But I’m not one of you. Sure, I’m technically enhanced, but I’m not an Avenger… Or an ex-avenger. I’m not some secret spy or world class assassin. Not a genius. I’m just here…”

“And I’m just some punk kid from Brooklyn.” Steve chuckled softly. “It’s people like you that help remind us that we aren’t so removed from the world as we like to pretend we are at times. I got chosen for the serum, but that doesn’t mean I get to forget where I came from, or what I’ve lived through. It’s important we get people in to keep us from getting too big for our britches.”

A more honest smile is almost pulled unwillingly to your lips. Trying to imagine Steve the way that he describes himself. 

“Well, with that in mind, I think it’s about time to see what you can actually do.” 

You nod, working to finish up the plate of food before you in silence. Then scoffing as Steve moved to clear away the dishes before you could even stand. “You’re company, only fair.” 

He washed the dishes with quick and efficient movements. Not quite the way Bucky moved. But you could start to see similarities between them. “So, the training room?”

“Right this way.” Steve waved a hand to have you join beside him. Walking in companionable silence. Giving you enough time to look over each of the other spaces as you passed through them. The place really was built for so much more than the few people that currently occupied it, even with the return of the Captain, Bucky, and Black Widow. 

It wasn’t too terribly long before you were staring at an open space set aside for training. A training ring to one side, a few punching bags set off onto the floor, free weights and other equipment easily accessible. The others spread out already. Tony working with Happy in the ring, Rhodey doing arm curls on one bench. Bucky and Natasha practicing hand to hand on the open mats. 

You knew that you weren’t imagining the way his gaze flit to you, lingering almost a moment to long and catching a cuff to the side of his head for his distraction.

And off to one side, away from the others in a rather obviously nervous sort of manner, a kid no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. 

“Hey! Ah, right so, sorry about the whole airport thing. But Mister Stark said that I could come by, and I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you as well.” Waving a hand almost awkwardly to Steve beside you. “Because you know… with the whole thin-”

When you giggled, he seemed to notice you all at once. Suddenly blinking before smiling brightly. “Oh, hi! I’m Peter! Well, ah, Spiderman.”

“Kid, meet Energizer Bunny, Bunny, this is Underoos. Try not to zap him too much, the rest of us can barely keep us as it is.” Tony called out from the boxing ring, still weaving as Happy took him through several punches. 

“Wait, is that like.. Your actual superhero name?” Peter furrowed his brow, Steve laughing beside you. 

“Well, no. I’m not a superhero. Just enhanced. I’m not an agent or anything either, so I just have my regular name.” Reaching your hand for his as you offered a proper introduction. He returned the handshake eagerly, his smile somehow brightening even further, if such a thing were possible. 

“So, like… What do you do then? Your power?” 

Steve rose a brow at you. “I know that Tony had mentioned being an energizer bunny, and zapping, but I don’t think anyone ever explained beyond that.”

Sighing softly, you lift fingers up to your lips to whistle sharply. “Alright. I’m going to go over this one more time, and then we can figure out how I can use it to help.” 

“Might be a good idea, trick like yours would be good if we got in a fight.” Tony nodded, stepping away from happy to grab his water bottle from the outside of the ring. “Okay princess, give them a hit.”

Bucky and Natasha stopped in their sparring to glance your way, slowly breaking apart to pay attention. Rhodey chuckled softly, though set the weight down. Peter watching you as though you were some sort of science experiment. 

Technically you were.

Letting out a slow breath, you lifted your hands to either side of your hips. Focusing on the feeling of pooling your power, the sensation similar to holding water in your hands. Usually it just trickled out on it’s own, something you could never entirely stop. Or flowed towards your brother in a never ending river, tying you together. But you knew that you could extend its reach, beyond just a momentary touch. 

Fury had tested you for this too, but usually there was no reason to bother with it. 

Another slow breath was like pulling the lever on a dam, the energy suddenly rippling out from you in a wave; crashing over the others. You could feel how it washed over them. Trying to visualize the effects. 

“Oh my gosh! Right! Whoa. I mean… That’s so cool!” Peter spoke a little more quickly than usual, practically vibrating in place. “It’s like you’re one of those clerics or druids or whatever from that mmo that people used to play all the time, World of Warcraft. Where they have the aura’s that buff the other people. Or they can help heal them over time or something. Like one of those!”

You blush softly and laugh. “My brother is actually the one who came up with that same way of describing our powers. His is more akin to a Shaman from the game. He can use ‘totems’ to enhance his own abilities in specific ways. Faster, more agile, stronger, more aware. One thing at a time depending on what he focuses his ability on. Totem was the easiest way for him to visualize it, so he chooses to name them after spirit animals. It helps him connect better, especially when I’m not there to amplify him.” 

You turned your gaze to weight how the others were reacting to the demonstration, even as you kept a careful rein on the ability to stop from overwhelming them. 

Natasha was working through a sequence of flips and strikes, adjusting to how the change in agility affected her fighting almost immediately. 

Happy looked disconcerted to say the least, refusing to move and scowling at you. 

Rhodey was stretching his legs, gently testing the difference even as the machines that now supported him didn’t register the change. 

Peter was basically bouncing on his feet, flashing a brighter smile to Tony behind him. “Mister Stark, there has to be a way that we can test this in the field.” Then looking to you once more. “Do you know if it affects a larger group of people, or can you focus it… I mean like a homing beacon?”

“I haven’t done much with it. Most of what I know was just to satisfy Fury when he had me brought in. I’ve never done anything more.”

“You mean you just…”

“I’m a florist with a degree in environmental science, Peter.” Smiling wryly as he blinked in confusion. Then catching sight of the two super soldiers. Steve beside you locking gazes with Bucky across the room. 

“It’s like-”

“The serum, Buck.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hollow VII

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Alan Tracy, Scott Tracy, John Tracy, Jeff Tracy

Seventh and final part of my contribution @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday: Sixth Sense. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Well, this marks the end of my SensorySunday campaign.  Turns out I managed 69181 words over the course of this challenge!  Somewhat sad this challenge is over, but that just means it’s time to move onto something new... or go back to all the wips I neglected in favour of this.  Whoops.

Alan didn’t notice when his bedroom door opened, barely wide enough for someone to slip through before closing again with the smallest of clicks.  His head was buried in a game – educational, because Dad only let him play educational games in his room – and the fact that he was no longer alone with the ancient Professor Layton didn’t occur to him until his bed dipped and someone groaned quietly.

He jumped, almost dropping the ancient console – something from Dad’s own childhood, passed down through brothers until it found the hands of the best gamer in the family – as he twisted to look at the uninvited intruder.

“Scott?”

“Shh!” his eldest brother hissed, before groaning again and gingerly laying down, spread-eagling himself across Alan’s fire engine red comforter.

Alan squinted at him, setting the old console down and turning around completely to face the brother stealing his bed.

“Should you be up?” he asked, and Scott gave a sheepish grin.  “Scott, you’re hurt!”  His brother winced and gently rested a hand over the pyjamas he wore, right where Alan knew he had several stitches, far too much medical glue, and multiple layers of gauze.

“I’m okay, Allie,” he said, patting the bed next to him with his other hand.  Alan took the silent invitation to lay next to him – it was his bed, why was Scott acting like he was in charge – and eyed him dubiously.

“Why aren’t you in the medical room?” he asked, frowning.  “Grandma will be angry.”  Scott winced.

“Grandma thinks I need to eat,” he shuddered.  “Homemade food.”

Just the mention of homemade food when Grandma was around was enough for Alan to shudder, too.  No wonder Scott had escaped.

“What about John?” he asked, and Scott paused for a moment before shaking his head.

“I couldn’t get him out,” he said.  “But Grandma’s letting him have proper food, not…” he trailed off, but Alan understood.  They all understood when it came to Grandma and food.

“Okay,” he said, and Scott cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You can stay.”

“I knew you’d understand,” Scott grinned, wrapping an arm around him and gently pulling him close.  “Best little brother.”

Alan glowed at the praise, even if he knew by now that they were all ‘best little brother’ when it suited Scott.  Just like they were all his best big brother when they did what he wanted.  It was still nice to hear.

The fact that Scott’s arm was shaking slightly was not so nice, and he frowned at his brother. Scott had closed his eyes again; his skin was still pale – paler than Alan’s, he realised when he put his hand on his forehead.

“I’m okay, Allie,” he mumbled, cracking a single eye open a sliver to peer at him.  “Just tired.”

“Promise?”  Alan remembered Dad carrying him in, blood dripping onto the floor.  It had been a few days since then, but it still gave him nightmares.  He hadn’t played any of his zombie games since.

“I promise.”  His eye closed again and Alan watched as his breathing evened out, chest rising and falling steadily in sleep.  Scott spent a lot of time sleeping now; Grandma said it was normal because he’d lost a lot of blood, but it worried Virgil so it worried Alan, just a little.

He curled up against Scott, careful not to get too close to anywhere he was hurt, game entirely forgotten in favour of watching him.  Just to be sure.

There was a commotion outside, hurried footsteps passing past his door in both directions before someone knocked and he froze.

“Alan?” Dad called, pushing the door open.  “Have you seen- ah, there you are.”

Alan made a shushing noise at him, and Dad smiled, making a show of walking into the room on tip-toe and silently closing the door behind him.

“Is he sleeping?” he asked, and Alan nodded.  Dad padded across the room and sat on the edge of Alan’s bed, reaching out and brushing Scott’s hair back from his face.  Scott didn’t react, and his smile looked just a little sad.  “You can’t sleep here, Scooter; this is your brother’s bed,” he murmured.

“I don’t mind,” Alan said immediately, and Dad gave him a smile.

“I’m sure you don’t,” he agreed, “but Scott needs to stay in the medical room where your Grandma can keep an eye on him.  I’m impressed he made it all the way up here.”

“He said Grandma was cooking,” Alan said, and got a chuckle.

“That would do it,” Dad nodded before standing back up.  “Well, even I’m not cruel enough to subject Scott to that, so I’ll let him hide here for now.  Don’t let him leave when he wakes up, though – he shouldn’t be walking around.  I’ll fetch him later, when the threat’s gone.”

Alan nodded his agreement and watched Dad leave the room before settling back down with Scott, at least until he heard the voices.

“Have you found him?”

That was Grandma, and Alan tensed again.  Dad understood, right?  Dad wouldn’t make Scott eat that?

“He’s hiding in Alan’s room.”  What? Now Grandma would come in and Scott would have to eat her cooking and he’d be miserable!  How could he do that?

“He can’t hide forever,” she said.  “He’ll have to face it eventually.”

“When he wakes up,” Dad promised.  “Getting to Alan’s room exhausted him.”

“When he wakes up,” she agreed.  “He can’t avoid John forever.”

Wait, what?  Avoid John?  Why would Scott want to avoid John?  Wasn’t it Grandma’s cooking he was hiding from?

They moved away, leaving him sat on his bed with his biggest brother taking up most of the space. Alan looked at him, seeing how pale he looked, before coming to a decision.  It was easy enough to find his spare blanket and drape it over Scott, tucking him in gently before padding out of his room and heading for the medical room.

John was sat up in bed, tablet propped up in front of him as he read whatever was on the screen.  He looked up as Alan approached.

“Hey, Alan,” he greeted with a grin.  Alan glanced over at Scott’s abandoned bed as he passed it, before perching on the chair next to his brother.  John also looked at the bed for a moment, before setting the tablet down and facing him as best he could with three of his limbs in casts.  “Is something wrong?”

“Grandma said Scott was avoiding you,” Alan blurted out, and John sighed.

“He is.”

“But…” Alan faltered, not expecting that response.  Why would Scott avoid John?  That didn’t make any sense.

“He’s got it into his head that this is all his fault,” John explained.  “He blames himself even though it was my idea, and he’s avoiding me because he thinks that’ll keep me safe.”

“What?  Why?  Scott keeps us safe!”  Alan couldn’t imagine a world without Scott there to keep the nightmares away.

“Because he’s an idiot,” John sighed.  “It doesn’t help that Dad had a go at him for exploring the paths when we were told not to. He’s grounded for two weeks after Grandma discharges him.”

“Scott’s in trouble?”

“Because he disobeyed me. John is also grounded.”  Alan jumped when Dad started talking – he hadn’t noticed him.  “Is Scott still in your room, Alan?”  He nodded. “Well if he’s going to sleep he might as well do it here.”  Alan watched him leave before turning to John.

“But… Grandma’s cooking..?” John chuckled lightly.

“The one thing she can make is hospital food,” he assured him.  “The soup she’s feeding Scott is perfectly edible and he knows it.”

“Oh.”  Scott had lied.

“He’s just upset about what happened,” John continued.  “Don’t worry about it.”

When Dad walked back in a few minutes later, Scott was still covered in Alan’s spare blanket.

“Do you think Scott can borrow it a while longer?” the man asked as he gently lay a still sleeping Scott back on the bed.

“Will it help?” Alan asked, and he nodded.  “Then yes.” He reached over and straightened it out over his brother again.  Scott let out a small groan and Dad backed away.

“That’s my cue to leave,” he said.  “Alan, could you stay with your brothers for me?”  He nodded, and the man left the room.

Barely a minute later, Scott’s eyes opened.  They landed on John and immediately snapped shut again with another groan.

“Scott?”

He opened his eyes again.

“Allie?”

“Don’t avoid John,” Alan said immediately, watching blue eyes widen.  “You’re his big brother!  You can’t ignore him.”

“I got him hurt, Alan,” Scott protested.  He started to sit up, then made a face and lay back down again.  “It’s my fault.”

“I’m the one that wanted to go out to see the stars,” John argued.

“I should have stopped you!”

“If I wasn’t going to listen to Dad, why would I listen to you?”

Eyes wide, Alan looked between his two brothers.  Both of them looked agitated, confined to their beds by their injuries but with a point to prove.

Scott opened his mouth a couple of times but no sound came out.

“Scott, whose blanket are you holding?” John challenged, and Alan watched as Scott looked at it, running the edge of the fabric through his fingers.

“Alan’s?”  Scott looked at him, surprised, and Alan shrugged. “Why?”

“So you didn’t get cold,” Alan told him, and Scott softened, smiling at him.

“Thanks, Allie.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” John continued.  “If you honestly thought you were a danger to me, you would never have run to Alan, would you?”

“Hey!”  Alan wasn’t entirely sure what John meant by that, but why wouldn’t Scott go to him?  He was his brother too, right?

Scott heaved a huge sigh, and Alan looked at him in surprise.

“Stop being sensible and right,” he grumbled, but without any malice.

“I’ll stop when you don’t need me to,” John retorted, but he was smiling.

“Hush you,” Scott muttered. “C’mere, Allie.”  He extended his hand and Alan took it, letting his biggest brother draw him closer.  “This is your blanket so share it with me, okay?”

Alan wasn’t entirely sure what was going on anymore.  Scott and John seemed to have just solved an argument but he didn’t understand what it had been about or how it had been solved.

“You’re not going to avoid John anymore?” he asked, stopping just short of the bed, and Scott shook his head.

“Not anymore,” he promised.  “Come up here?”

“Okay.”  Alan climbed onto the bed, kicking off his shoes and curling up under the blanket with his biggest brother.  It was warm and comfy and safe, and even though it wasn’t bedtime he found himself getting sleepy.

“It looks like they’ve sorted themselves out,” he thought he heard Grandma say some time later.  Dad laughed.

“As if they’d have it any other way,” he replied.  A hand brushed his hair lightly.  “Sleep well, boys.  Look after each other.”

Of course they would.

Fin

[parkaiur]

One Night Stand - Byounggon

❀ Romantic Comedy + fluff 

❀ Word Count: 8.4K words 

❀ Waking up in a stranger’s bed is always a bad way to start your morning. But, waking up in your best friend’s brother’s room is even worse. 

❀ A/N: no this is not smut you nasties ;( !! also i didnt think i would write for these boys again ...but the silver boys fandom made me want to ,,so here i am :)

❀ warning: suggestive content (not smut tho), vulgar language

⭢ spinoff of [Real]istic Fiction

❀ ❀ ❀

I woke up with a nasty headache.

My vision was blurry and as I rolled onto my side, the bright sunlight blinded me. I groaned and covered myself with the blankets once again.

And that’s when I realized.

These blankets are white. 

My blankets are red. 

My vision was suddenly clear as I shot up and looked around. Immediately I grew shocked at the boy snoring next to me who obviously wasn’t supposed to be in my room. 

But this wasn’t my room.

The room was a dark blue color with messy notebooks sprawled everywhere and empty beer cans on the ground that I’m assuming we had been drinking before we got in bed. 

I instinctively reached to touch my body and found I was only wearing shorts. 

Nothing else. 

I felt my chest turn ice cold at the morning air.

“Fuck this.” I whispered to myself, searching on the ground for my shirt. I eventually found it... across the room. 

At this point, I wasn’t even curious as to whose room I was in-- I just needed to get out. 

The boy next to me was snoring heavily, so I wasn’t that scared of waking him. Ok I was majorly scared because this was my first time running out of a boy’s room and I did not know what to do if he woke up. 

I scurried out of the room, tip toeing out of there. I looked back at the boy who was covered by a shirt and some pillows. I carefully opened the door and stepped out. The door creaked shut, but I made it out without waking up.

I walked down the frat boy stairs, seeing other girl’s walking out too. 

“Phew, I’m never going to a frat party again. Ever-”

“Oh, y/n? What are you doing here?” 

I jumped at the voice, dropping my phone on the ground. My eyes widened in shock as I stared at Kim Seunghun. Aka the alpha male of this frat house. And Lisa’s brother’s friend. 

Well fuck. 

I leaned against the staircase and scratched my head. 

“UHHH, good question.” I pretended to think and scooted past him. But nothing got past the boy. 

“Did you just walk out from that room?” He pointed to, yes, the room I just came out of. I felt my cheeks start to turn red from either the shyness or the barf that was rising in my chest. 

I looked to the room and shrugged. “Uhhhh can’t remember. That’s odd the hangover is killing me, uh, I should be going-”

“Oh well, I was just wondering because that room happens to be Byounggon’s room.” 

I froze at the name. 

I slowly backed up and stared at the taller boy who was now smirking down at me. He crossed his arms and examined my facial features. “Oh gosh. You didn’t.”

My head was spinning at the realization.

I had just slept with my best friend’s brother.

That was wrong in so many ways.

“Kim Seunghun. We are never talking about this again, ok? Never. Ever. You will not tell Byounggon nor Lisa. Or any other living soul, got it? Or else I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to the thirsty fangirls you have.”

He flinched at my vulgar words. “Jesus, ok y/n, I won’t tell anyone... besides Jihoon.” I glared at the boy, but I knew I couldn’t fight that. Those two told each other everything.

“Just don’t tell anyone who would tell Lisa or Byounggon, ok? Now I’m leaving I feel like shit dude.” 

“Ok but congrats for boning your crush! Woohoo!” I rolled my eyes and pushed myself past him, my cheeks burning furiously.

Before Seunghun could say anything else and before anyone else could find me doing the walk of shame, I left. 

❀ ❀ ❀

I had a lot to think about on my walk home.

The fresh air, the morning breeze, the multiple other girls walking back to the dorms after being boned by some of the hottest guys on campus, and also the fact that I had to hide one of the biggest secrets from my best friend.

It was no secret that I used to like Byounggon.

Lisa knew. 

Byounggon knew.

Everyone.

Unsurprisingly though, the boy had turned me down years ago. And ever since then, no one has truly known if I liked Byounggon anymore. I stopped talking about it and even I didn’t know how I felt about the boy. 

And no, I was never truly that upset because everyone thought me of as “that weird girl”. I was kind of socially awkward and annoying at the same time. It was a true talent.

Lisa was the only person who had embraced my oddness and we’d been best friends ever since the fifth grade. 

I didn’t know how it would sit with her that I slept with her older brother though.

I sighed in frustration. 

Soon, I reached my dorm and swiped my card, walking into the familiar halls. Thankfully, there were no kids up at 7am so I could calmly get to my dorm room that I did not share with Lisa. 

I opened the door quietly and saw my roommate, Sooyoung, passed out in bed. She was the heaviest sleeper.

And at that, I busted open my bathroom door and barfed all the alcohol out of my system.

❀ ❀ ❀

“So, how’d you get home after the party?” I almost spat out my chocolate milk at her question. Lisa grabbed the napkins out of her pocket and handed them to me. I thanked her and covered my mouth with the tissues.

“What do you mean?” I asked nervously. Lisa gave me a suspicious glance but said nothing. “I mean, you told me you wanted to stay longer at the party, so I left with Jackson, my friend from art class, and told Byounggon to bring you home. Did he give you any problems? I know my brother is SO annoying sometimes.” 

Oh... so that’s how we ended up... yeah.

I shook my head quickly. “Uh, yeah it was good, fine. Didn’t talk much, I was so drunk ahahahaha” I laughed nervously. Lisa was really dense. She couldn’t tell a thing when I was lying. She shrugged and smiled happily. “Cool, cool. So, your first frat party, how did you-”

“Never going again.” 

I tossed my carton in the trash and walked out of the cafe we were peacefully sitting in. Lisa got up abruptly and followed me.

“Woah, what? You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night.” I blushed red thinking back to last night. I had no recollection of what I did last night, but I could only imagine. And that was enough.

“Um, I was drunk, I had no idea what I was doing. And I’m never drinking again. That was terrible, I hate waking up sore.” 

Maybe you weren’t just sore because of the alcohol.

I shook my head subtly. Nasty brain. 

“Ok, ok, frat parties aren’t your thing. Got it.”

“Correction: parties aren’t my thing. I hate people.” I noted carefully while tightening the straps on my backpack. Lisa snorted and held open the door for me as we moved to our next class: chemistry.

“I hate chemistry. It’s a waste of my time as a foreign languages major.” I snorted at the Thai girl. “Whatever, chemistry is the only thing that makes sense to me. Learning languages is too hard.” I sat higher in my chair as the professor walked in so that I could see the board.

“You’re too hard.” The girl deadpanned. I shot her a death glare, but I couldn’t help but laugh shortly afterwards. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“Ah, here comes our favorite chemistry tutor, y/n.” I grinned at the other tutor there. 

“I’m the only chemistry tutor here, Junkyu.” I set down my backpack in the ‘tutor’s only’ area. The boy laughed and nodded his head happily. 

“You’re right.” I rolled my eyes and sat on the table. 

“Another day, another lack of tutoring.” 

Seriously, it amazed me at how many people were failing their classes, yet, no one ever got help. Until, of course, midterms and finals week, then the line became long. But it was only the beginning of the quarter meaning the load was light.

I got lost in my phone until I looked up at Junkyu who was writing something intensely into a journal. 

“What’s that?” I asked curiously. I jumped over to the boy and tried to look over his shoulder. He immediately shut his journal and glared at me.

I pouted and crossed my arms in anguish. “Wow, hiding things from me now?” Junkyu rolled his eyes at me. 

“This is none of your business, y/n.” He spoke with that same condescending tone all boy’s talked with. I hated it. 

“Ugh, whatever. Keep your damn secrets.” I sat on the table once again and huffed angrily. A few minutes went by until I heard him sigh loudly. 

“Ok, so you know my sister?” I set down my phone and nodded happily even though I only knew of her. Junkyu sighed and opened his journal again. “Well, so she sort of wants a boyfriend.” 

I raised a brow. “Well, can’t help with that.” I gestured to myself and Junkyu rolled his eyes. 

“Not you! Ugh, anyways, I’m helping her fall in love I guess.”

...

I grew more and more confused as the conversation ticked by. 

“What?”

Junkyu sighed and tossed the journal at me. 

“Realistic Fiction Operation. Number one, you must talk to him-” 

Then, I realized what it said scribbled on the top.

“Operation: fall in love with Lee Byounggon? What?” 

Junkyu snorted and hopped off a table. “So, my sister failed this writing assignment of hers because she only writer fanfiction and the professor failed her. Blah blah blah, she is sad because she’s never been in love. So this way, she can write her story and fall in love with a super nice guy like Byounggon.” 

He then snorted.

“You would know how that feels right?” 

I hit him with a book and I felt happiness when he flinched in pain. “Fuck you, Junkyu.” I spat. “I was never, ever, in love with Byounggon, ok? I liked him when I was 14 years old, big fucking whoop. So did every other girl in our high school.”

Junkyu raised a brow at me. “Moving on, so now I’m trying to set my sister up with him ‘cause Gon is a great dude. Nice, funny, smart, athletic, good looking, charming, he’s everything.”

I glared at him as he said those things. Like I didn’t notice them or something.

“So, even though you think I’m in love with Byounggon, you would still set your sister up with her?” I question.

Junkyu smiled. “No offense, but Byounggon probably suits a quieter, nicer girl. You’re sort of vulgar and... mean.” 

It wasn’t the first time I’ve heard those words, but I admit, they weren’t nice words to hear. 

I felt a pang in my chest and I ignored the way it stung.

"Mean? I tutor people for a living! How nice is that: I’m sharing my knowledge with others.” I argued. Junkyu peered around the room.

“What others?” 

Suddenly, as we were arguing, we heard a bell ring. 

“What is that bell?” Junkyu said dumbly. 

“You idiot! That’s the bell people are supposed to ring when they need help.” I smacked him with a book one last time before walking over to the desk we had neglected for too long.

“Hi, how can I-” I paused when I looked up at the face. “Oh, hey Byounggon, what can I help you with ahaha?” I said nervously. The boy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes like normal.

Oh fuck he knows. He’s going to kill me and bury me so his sister never finds out.

“Yeah, I was having some trouble with my chemistry homework, I was wondering if you could help me?” 

Oh... so it was only chemistry.

I felt my anxiety die down. I fake smiled like I did with all of the students I worked with.

“Oh sure, just... sit at a table. We’re pretty empty today.”

Byounggon nodded and then noticed Junkyu. “Oh hey dude.” Junkyu waved back and then his eyes lit up.

“Hey Byounggon, I heard you have creative writing with my sister.” Byounggon nodded and smiled. “How’s she doing? Getting into trouble yet?”

Byounggon laughed and shook her head. “Oh never, she’s not a troublemaker like someone we know.” He peered down at me and I rolled my eyes. When have I ever caused trouble? Besides sleeping with my best friend’s brother? Besides that?

Junkyu gave me an “i told you so face” and I flipped him off blatantly. 

“I’ll be in the lounge.” Junkyu shut the door and left Byounggon and I alone.

“So, what do you-”

“Can we just like, address the elephant in the room?” He finally said. 

Oh great, the jitters are back.

“W-what? What elephant?” I asked, feigning innocence. Byounggon sighed like he was frustrated with me already. 

“Y/n, I’m talking about what happened a few nights ago. Friday night to be exact.” 

He remembers. Definitely remembers. 

“Um... oh yeah, fun party that was. Exciting. Yup. That’s it. Now, chemistry-”

Byounggon pulled his homework away and I saw it was already completed. He just came here to talk to me. To turn me down once again.

“y/n, you know what I mean.” 

He then tossed something on the table which I realized was mine. My face turned sheet white as I locked eyes with him. 

“You left your socks in my bed.. and I know they’re yours because I got you them for Christmas.” He deadpanned.

A million ideas of how to get out of this went through my mind, but nothing came out of my mouth.

Instead, I shrugged and leaned back in my chair. “Why did you come to tell me this?” I said. The boy raised his eyebrows at me in surprise. Before he could say anything, I waved him off. “Ok, Byounggon, you don’t need to tell me anything. I don’t even remember it and I doubt you did too so like, we can move on. Ok? Thanks for coming, I’ll walk you out, and-”

Byounggon didn’t move even though I ushered him out. 

“Y/n, I didn’t come here to tell you to have you ignore it. I just....” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I just feel really guilty about it because Lisa and...” He trailed off once more which played with my emotions. 

“I just wanted to let you know that this was just a mistake on my part... we never should have done what we did.” He blurted.

For some reason, I felt my heart sink all the way to the floor at his words. Even though I’d expected them, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have done what we did so let’s just forget about it ok? We don’t even remember having sex so it doesn’t matter. Basically didn’t happen.” I fibbed. 

Byounggon gave me one last once-over before standing up. 

“Glad we’re on the same page then.” I nodded as he picked up all his stuff. 

“Exactly and uh, you’re not gonna tell Lisa right? Just to be sure.” 

Byounggon lifted a brow. “’Course not.” 

He walked off with one final wave and I tried to wonder if Byounggon was being honest with me.

❀ ❀ ❀

Later that night, it was the end of my shift since it was 9pm. 

“Later, y/n.” Junkyu left as soon as possible, typical Junkyu. I huffed and slowly packed up my stuff, scanning the room to see if I forgot anything.

“Wait, y/n!” I looked up and saw the familiar tall, caramel-haired boy running towards me. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Seunghun, my tutoring hours are over. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He shook his head. “No, I just wanted to talk.” Seunghun’s face was full of confidence and hope which meant mine was full of confusion and fear.

“About what?” I asked hesitantly. The boy hopped on the table across from me and stared at me. 

“Hm, so, I have a favor to ask of you.” I raised a brow. “And what do you have over me that...” Before I asked the question, I realized what dirt he had on me and I grew furious that he tried to hold it over my head.

“No, no, no, I wouldn’t do that. But, I do have an idea.” I raised a brow. “What?” 

Seunghun smirked and leaned back slightly to adjust his legs. “So, I sort of have this chemistry report that only needs to be five-six pages long and it counts for basically my whole grade. I’m already failing chemistry and my teacher told me that if I failed this too, then I should just not come back.”

My eyes widened. Seunghun couldn’t be failing that hard... could he?

“And... what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying, can you please please please write it for me?” Before I could say no, he stopped me. “Ok, look, I’m not a prick so I would never tell Lisa about you banging her brother. But, let’s return to the idea I said I had earlier.” 

At this point, I just wanted him to shut up.

“Well, Junkyu told me that he was trying to set up his sister with Byounggon and if that happens, that means Lisa will no longer be suspicious of you and Byounggon because knowing you and Gon, you both suck at lying.” He was right. “And also, then Byounggon will be distracted by Junkyu’s sister that he’ll forget all about you. It’s perfect truly!” 

“Ok... and how does this involve you?” Seunghun gave me a smug look.

“I’m one of Byounggon’s best friends and I also see him everyday. I’ll give him advice and push him towards it.” I thought carefully about this. Despite Seunghun being obnoxious and crazy at times, people took his advice to heart. He was a nice guy and had a nice heart, his ideas mattered. 

I grumbled and couldn’t believe I was doing this.

“Fine, when do I start?” 

❀ ❀ ❀

Seunghun told me he would come back tomorrow during my tutoring hours and give me all the stuff needed to write the paper. I wondered why he didn’t just give me the stuff when he saw me yesterday, but he insisted he come back.

I sat at my usual tutoring table and of course, it was dead. I was reading a book until I heard someone clearing his throat. 

I looked up and almost dropped my book. 

“Byounggon, what are you doing here?” I spat harsher than intended. The boy scoffed and took a seat. 

“I think I know what’s going on...” He trailed off. 

“What are you talking about--” 

Before I could say anything, Seunghun appeared out of nowhere with all smiles. I wanted to strangle him. 

“Oh hey, seems like you guys are already here.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked with a jolt in my voice. I was so confused as Byounggon sighed.

“Seunghun, why did you tell me to write your paper if you already had y/n doing it?” Seunghun smiled innocently and my head spun at Byounggon’s statement. 

“Because, I felt bad and thought two smart heads would be better than one.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Now, here is the rubric along with all my notes for his essay. Good luck and thank you guys so much.” Before we could fight about this, the long limbed boy ran away, leaving me alone with Byounggon.

We sat in silence until I broke it.

“Ok, you can leave, I can write the paper myself.” I said sternly. Byounggon sighed and shook his head. 

“No, let’s just write it together. It’s not like we hate each other.”

I wanted to asked him ‘are you sure?’ but that seemed inappropriate. It wasn’t that we hated each other, it was just awkward between us at times since he had rejected me a long time ago. Obviously I didn’t have the same feelings for him.

“Ok, fine, how about this? The paper is split into 4 sections. I’ll take the first two and you take the last two and then we can combine to write the intro and conclusion. Sound good.” The boy nodded. 

I nodded too and pulled out my laptop and started typing away. I had already had this basic knowledge of chemistry but I occasionally flipped through Seunghun’s notes. 

Byounggon and I sat in silence for a long while until I heard him lean back in his chair. 

“You hungry?” I stared at him and shook my head. “Thirsty?” I shook my head again. 

“I’m fine, but if you’re hungry, you can get something.” I said. Byounggon was a lot of things, but he was always caring. It’s one of the reasons why I fell for him years ago.

Byounggon nodded and got out of his chair. 

It was about 15 minutes until he came back. He set two drinks on the table and two sandwiches. One cold sandwich, one warm.

“Wow, you extra hungry today?” He chuckled at my tone.

“Very funny. I got the strawberry frappe and one ham and cheese sandwich for you. And I got it pressed for you since I know you don’t eat cold sandwiches.” 

I melted at his actions. He remembered my favorite drink and the way I liked my sandwiches, things I mentioned long ago. 

“Thanks, that’s very nice of you.” I said quickly and took a sip of my drink before digging into my sandwich. Byounggon smiled, showing off his dimple that every girl swooned over.

“No problem.”

We ate in silence for a short while. 

“You know, it’s weird how we barely talk even though my sister and you are best friends.” He blurted randomly. I shrugged my shoulders and took another bite of my sandwich.

“I mean, most people don’t talk to their best friend’s siblings.” I pointed out. 

Byounggon sighed. “But we used to be so close.” He said nothing after those words, but I could tell he didn’t want to finish that sentence.

“Before you rejected me.” I finished for him. He flinched at my words, but nodded nonetheless. 

“Yea... before that.” 

We paused at the awkwardness that filled the room.

“You know, I wasn’t that upset at the rejection. I knew you didn’t like me.” I blurt.

Byounggon’s eyebrows shot up. “Why did you think that?” I laughed.

“Um, maybe because no one liked, or likes, me. I am weird, even I know that.” I gestured to my multi-colored hair. Byounggon chuckled.

“You’re weird, but that’s what makes you unique, y/n. Everyone’s a bit weird in their own way, but you do what you wanna do, say what you wanna say, that’s what sets you apart from other people.” 

I felt my heart speed up as he got closer to me. 

Shit, I cannot let this puppy crush come back. It was so lame. 

“Thanks. And for the record, I do NOT still like you.” 

Byounggon laughed as he sipped on his caramel latte.

“I’m being serious you asshole. I feel like everyone still thinks I pine after you and it’s so annoying. I was fucking 14 for pete’s sake!” Byounggon laughed harder and set down his cup.

“That’s not what you were saying Friday night.” 

I choked on my frappe and gaped at him. He was holding in his laughter and staring at me intensely. 

“You... I’m going to pretend you never said that.” He laughed even harder as I tried to ignore the topic. But then I realized something, “Whatever, you don’t even remember what happened. We were both so blackout drunk.” 

Byounggon said nothing which is what made me nervous. 

“Wait... did you remember?” He avoided my gaze and returned to typing on his laptop. My jaw dropped.

“What the fuck, you what?” I suddenly felt nervous around him. Byounggon sighed and looked at me with a gaze that made me want to burst into flames.

“Ok, I didn’t remember who I slept with at first. I just got somewhat of flashbacks to what happened. But when I found your socks, I suddenly remembered a bit more...” Byounggon said honestly. I gulped as his eyes flickered to my lips. 

“Well... try forgetting it.” I spat and tried to rid of the deep blush on my face. Suddenly, his leg that was so close to mine made me feel nervous. My whole body felt like it was on fire. 

Stop it, you horny teenage girl.

❀ ❀ ❀

Night came sooner than expected. 

“Let’s work on this another day. You free tomorrow?” I nodded as I tutored every day of the week. “Yup, same time?” He nodded. 

Soon, Junkyu came out of the tutoring lounge. He usually never sat out in the open unless someone rang the bell for him. He turned to wave to me, but stopped short when he saw Byounggon.

“Byounggon, dude what are you doing here?” The boy smiled and gestured to the work.

“Seunghun.” Junkyu nodded in understanding making me realize Seunghun probably did this often.

Junkyu then gestured me to leave. I rolled my eyes and packed my things faster than usual.

“So Byounggon, I hear you got the hots for my sister.” Oh wow, so he was going to start that while I was still here.

Byounggon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Um, who told you that?” 

Junkyu shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. But, she likes you, so you should ask her to the party Friday.” 

Byounggon laughed and his black hair flopped around. I resisted the urge to fix it for him.

“Are you sure she likes me? I thought she had a thing for Mashi.” 

Junkyu shook his head vigorously. “Oh no no, they’re just friends. She likes you I swear.” Byounggon sighed.

“That’s what Seunghun said I should do too... but I don’t know man. She’s a nice girl and funny too, but-”

“No buts! Take her, ok?”

I saw Byounggon nod and I couldn’t hide my sadness. I walked away before I could hear Junkyu say anymore about how perfect she was for him and how I was inferior. 

“y/n, wait up.” I paused and felt Byounggon’s presence next to me. 

“What?” 

“It’s late, you shouldn’t walk home by yourself.” I felt giddy at his kind manners, but I ignored it. I hadn’t had a crush in a while and this was me trying to make up for it.

“Um, thanks.” To be honest, I was paranoid about walking home in the dark, but sometimes I just power through. 

We walked in silence to my dorm that wasn’t too far from the library. 

“So, party Friday? Do you guys have one every week?” Byounggon sighed and nodded. 

“Unfortunately.” He sighed. Byounggon was fun at parties, but he liked the quiet life as well. He was no Kim Seunghun.

“So, what’s this thing with you and Junkyu’s sister?” I asked like it was just a conversation starter, not like I was jealous.

Byounggon chuckled lightly. “Hm, why? Jealous?” I hit him on the shoulder and walked past him in anger. He caught up to me easily. “I’m kidding! And it’s nothing, just harmless flirting... I don’t know, I may like her but I haven’t liked a girl in a while.” 

I sighed. “I think you should go for it.” 

I unlocked my door but didn’t go in just yet. “What? Why, you don’t even know her.” I shrugged thinking about Lisa and Junkyu. I could move on from my confusing feelings towards Byounggon once he started to date Junkyu’s sister. And Junkyu was right... I wasn’t right for Byounggon. 

“She seems like a nice girl and Junkyu told me that she really likes you.” I said. To be honest, I was a bit wary about the whole “operation get Byounggon to fall in love with her” thing, but if that’s what it took, then so be it. 

Byounggon didn’t respond with words but just stared off into space to show he was done with the topic. “Can I use your bathroom?” I nodded and walked in. 

“Sure.” 

He thanked me and then went in. I walked shut the door to the outside and noticed that Sooyoung wasn’t there. She never was in the dorms besides the weekends. Which was weird since it was usually the opposite. She simply just told me it was because her boyfriend and her studied and hung out during the day and she was too lazy to walk back to the dorms. 

Soon I heard the toilet flush and Byounggon walked out shortly after. 

He was still putting on his belt as he walked out from the bathroom. That prick, he knows he looks attractive. 

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” He said in a deeper voice than usual. I nodded and this time, I stared directly into his eyes which were dark and soft both at the same time. 

“See you tomorrow?” He nodded, but didn’t make any motion to leave. I nodded slowly and when I said nothing, he took a few steps back. 

I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t make a move. 

Oh... fuck it. 

“But if you want, you can stay a bit.” I pulled him in by his belt as he instantly had his face close to mine. 

“Fuck, I didn’t think you would ask.”

He brought his lips to mine and I felt the immense pleasure that brought back faint memories of last Friday night. His warm hands gripped my waist and then worked to pull off my shirt. I should’ve been intimidated that he did that so easily but I wasn’t. He ran his hands back and it made me shiver in excitement.

Suddenly, his shirt was off and I guided him towards my bed. I whipped his belt off and he groaned; I felt my brain go into a frenzy.

So much was happening so fast and I could barely process anything. I traced the outlines of his abs which made him sigh in content. I was about to take off my pants, but then, I felt him hold me back.

“Wait... we can’t do this.” I felt my heart drop at his words. “We can’t.” He sat up and tried to not look at my body as he picked up his shirt. 

“Why?” I hated how small my voice sounded.

“Because, I would feel like a dick if I slept with you and then went on a date with Junkyu’s sister a couple nights after.” Byounggon sighed and ran his hands over his face like he was regretting this ever happened. 

I felt anger rush through my veins as I jumped off of him and tossed on my own shirt, humiliated and confused at this whole situation.

“Ok... this whole thing with Junkyu’s sister is kind of suspicious to me. I don’t know.” I ended lamely. I felt like I was betraying Junkyu if I told Byounggon about how Junkyu’s sister was basically using him to write her paper, but I felt bad not letting Gon know she was tricking him.

Byounggon scoffed. “Really? Just like give minutes ago you were telling me how good she was for me.” 

I felt my cheeks burn at his tone of disbelief. “Well, I just... it’s complicated!” I fibbed. 

“Complicated how?” 

“Just complicated. Just be wary of her, ok?”

Byounggon shook his head. “This shouldn’t have happened ok? It was a weak moment.” This time, I was the one laughing.

“Weak moment? Is that we are calling this? Fine. Then it’ll never happen again, sound good?” 

He paused buttoning up his shirt and stared at me. 

“Sounds perfect.” He stood up and started to walk out of my dorm. “I guess I’ll go back to her then.”

He didn’t have to specify who “her” was, but we both knew I knew.

I clenched my fists and controlled the anger that was threatening to flow out of me. 

“Don’t come back crying to me when you find out that she’s using you!” I blurted. As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

Byounggon laughed wildly and shook his head.

“You are exactly what people say about you. You’re mean. You would bring her down just to get what you want.” 

I refused to let myself cry in front of a boy. 

“Fuck you! You’re just as much as a player as everyone told me! Lisa deserves a better brother than you!” I lied. Byounggon was an amazing brother, but I knew it would hurt him.

“I guess I was just a one night stand to you after all!” He stopped moving at my words and I wondered if I went too far, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

He said nothing but slammed my door shut. 

Once I was alone, I fell to my floor crying. I picked up to call Lisa out of instinct, but I couldn’t tell her about this. I couldn’t tell her anything about this situation. She would kill me before she would comfort me.

I laid on the floor, crying undisturbed, wishing for my best friend next to me. 

Suddenly, my door flew open and there revealed Lisa. My eyes widened in shock at how she caught me like this. Instead of being surprised, she shut the door quickly and came next to my side.

“H-how-”

“Byounggon called me and told me that you some mean guy was causing you some trouble during tutoring and you were really shaken up. I know how anxious you are about those things, but I’m glad he was there. And I’m happier that you’re safe now, ok?”

I nodded and felt safe in her company. I couldn’t help but cry harder knowing Byounggon called her, knowing I wouldn’t. 

Why did he have to be so caring til the end?

“Thanks for coming.” I whispered out. She flicked my forehead. 

“Don’t thank me, that’s what best friends are for.”

❀ ❀ ❀

I finished the report without Byounggon and texted him that I would. He didn’t argue with me. 

Soon, it was Friday night. Lisa was getting ready in my dorm.

“I can’t believe you’re not going with me.” She pouted. She looked stunning with her hair in a short bob and her fashion was always on point.

I shrugged and thought back to the last frat party. 

“Yeah, I am definitely not going to another frat party.” She sighed and applied the finishing touches of her makeup. 

“Fine, but just call me if you change your mind. You know these parties last all night.” I nodded, but I knew I wouldn’t change my mind. 

She sighed and started to pick out her shoes. “Well, Bobby is meeting me in the lobby in 5, so I should go now.” She hugged me and pulled back with a soft gaze. “You sure you’ll be fine?” I nodded even though I would probably use this time to cry over Byounggon again. 

“Totally, now go have fun with your hunky date.” 

She laughed and turned red. “Fine, fine, bye~” 

I waved and said “call me if he gets too handsy.” Even though we both knew it would be no problem if he got handsy. 

She laughed and shut the door.

I inhaled the scent of strong perfume in the air and I plopped on my bed. 

I closed my eyes to get some rest, but I heard my phone ring. I picked it up, thinking it was Lisa checking in on me but I heard a deep voice.

“Dude, what happened between you and Byounggon?” Seunghun’s voice was loud even though I could hear loud music in the background.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s all over Junkyu’s sister tonight. Where the hell are you at??” He spat. I sat up feeling my anxiety wash over me again. So he did go with her in the end. Great. 

“That was the plan you dimbo! He was supposed to get with her and now it’s happening. Why do I need to be there? To interrupt their date?” I snapped. Seunghun sighed loudly.

“Y/n, we all know that you and Byounggon have the hots for each other.” I laughed and shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. 

“You’re wrong. Byounggon does not like me. In fact, I think he is disgusted by me right now.” Seunghun laughed. 

“Y/n, you are a lot of things, but you’re not dumb. You can’t seriously believe that right? He’s been in the moodiest mood since Wednesday night... I’m assuming something happened then?” My face turned red as Seunghun chuckled. 

“He likes you, y/n. Now get down and get your man. Or at least make him hella jealous and make out with some other dude.” I sighed and rolled back in bed.

“Seunghun... it’s over. We had too big of a fight that other night and I told him that I wouldn’t go back to him. I have too much pride.” I said softly. Seunghun said nothing for a couple of moments, but then didn’t waver.

“I’ll pay for your next two hair appointments if you come down here.” That definitely got my attention.

“What, why?”

“Do you doubt me?”

Seunghun was a rich dude... I did not doubt him. But I felt myself feel emotional at what he was doing. It wasn’t because he was bribing me, but he knew that by saying that, I could come down and pretend the reason I was coming down was for the free money, not because of Byounggon. 

“Thank you, Seungh-”

“Just come.”

❀ ❀ ❀

My blue hair was curled nicely and the layers showed beautifully. I had slapped on makeup and an edgy outfit. I threw on a beige skirt and a white crop top. I hated dressing up but oh well. 

The party was not that far and I took an uber, not wanting to walk so far in these shoes. I jumped out of the car and stared at the frat. 

I took a deep breath and made my way in. I was instantly bombarded by loud music and loud people. I sighed and made my way to the bar. 

“Hello, what can I get for you?” 

“One can of beer.” The bartender gave me a glance over and nodded. I didn’t like pretty drinks, I was pretty simple. I liked things that got me drunk fast. 

“Y/N! YOU MADE IT!” Seunghun acted drunk, but truth be told, the boy didn’t like to drink. He was naturally crazy. I nodded and opened my can of beer. 

“I did indeed. I don’t turn down money and thank you for feeding my hair dye addiction.” Seunghun laughed and slapped me on the back. 

“You look hot. You should go find Byounggon.” The older boy whispered. I shook my head and took a big gulp of beer to distract myself. 

“I’m not that big of a bitch. He’s here with another girl.” Seunghun shrugged. 

“I don’t know, the girl didn’t seem that into the party. You party better than her despite being a total homebody.” I laughed and shrugged. 

“I’m good at not caring what people think I guess.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Soon, the night picked up and the party got more intense as more and more people came. 

A boy sat next to me and ordered a can of beer, similar to me. I knew the boy wanted to be drunk. No one likes the taste of beer.

“Bad night?” I asked trying to strike up a conversation with him. Everyone else was on the dance floor. 

The boy turned to me. He was quite good looking and had big and bright eyes. He looked ... Japanese?

“You could say that.” He glanced to my 4 cans of beer. “You?”

I laughed maniacally. “I guess you could say I’m here to forget about someone but they happen to be here so... that’s tough.” The boy sighed. “Actually, same.” 

I laughed once he started to. “I’m y/n by the way.”

“Mashiho.” I nodded. He got his drink and then downed it. “You wanna dance?” He asked. I didn’t have the best rational at the moment so I nodded.

“Yes.” We both drunkly made our way to the dance floor and he had to hold me up so I could stay upright. 

“You are so drunk.” 

I nodded. I was never that bubbly of a drunk. I just lost control of my body truly and slurred my words. 

“I know, asshole.” The boy laughed and swung me around at the music. I loved dancing, it made me forget everything. I just loved losing control and not having anyone judge you on the dancefloor. 

Soon, the boy leaned in closer to me. “The girl I’m trying to get over is to our left.” I nodded, and took a peak but I could barely see anything in the sea of strobe lights. I took a step closer to lean in and look like we were kissing. I gave him a light smirk as he look nervous but did nothing. 

Then, I looked to my left and saw the girl storm out. I suddenly felt bad but I just helped a dude out.

“Oh shit.” I grinned forcefully but then looked who was running after her. My heart dropped and I loosened my grip on Mashiho.

“Please, please don’t tell me the girl you’re trying to get over is Junkyu’s sister?” His eyes widened in surprise. 

“How’d you know?” I then felt like everything was too overwhelming for me. I was dancing with the boy who she most likely had a past with. And I just messed up everything for Byounggon. 

I’m such a bitch.

“Fuck, Mashiho. It was nice meeting you and I’m sorry about that girl... From what I just saw, she likes you too. I’m sorry, I need to go.” I took off running and left the poor boy stranded. 

I had no idea where I was running to, but I felt myself wobble due to the large amounts of alcohol. 

Soon, I knocked into someone which made me hit the ground. 

“Hey, are you ok-” I looked up and locked eyes with the person who was watching tears stream down my face. 

“Lisa, I’m-”

She sighed and looked towards her date. “I’m sorry, it’s girl time.” 

She took my hand and guided me out of the party. 

“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me everything that’s been happening since last week. And start with what the hell is going on between you and my brother.” 

❀ ❀ ❀

“So... you slept with my brother?!?” She screamed. I shut my eyes and shook my head, trying not to laugh.

“I know, I know, even I was surprised.” 

Lisa hit her face with a pillow and started to laugh.

We were sitting in my dorm room since Sooyoung was gone. We had ordered pizza hut pizza and were munching on it like no tomorrow.

“But you don’t remember anything of it?” I nodded. “Nothing.”

“And then... you guys ended up doing it, or half of it, again... but then he lashed out at you and you guys got into a big fight because of Junkyu’s sister?” I nodded.

She sighed and took a bigger bite of pizza. 

“Damn... I feel like I should be saying congrats but this is my brother.” I turned red and hit her arm gently. 

We were silent for a few moments until I shook my head.

“I’m really sorry, Lisa. This never should have happened. If I could rewind time, I would redo this whole week.” I felt my eyes water and Lisa tossed down her pizza. 

“Oh, y/n, I’m not mad at you.” 

I jolted up in shock. “What?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not mad at you. And in fact, I sorta expected you would get together eventually...” I choked on my Coke.

“What? What how?” I exclaimed.

She gave a knowing smile. “Well, first off, you liked him when were like 13 or 14... and then he just openly rejected you. Then he told me that he liked you too but only rejected you because of me. And back then, I was thankful... but as I got older, I felt bad. I might have ruined something for the two of you.” 

She sighed and moved closer to me. “But we can’t redo that past, we can only work with the future. So, I’m sure you enjoyed canoodling with my brother, and I know you don’t regret that. But I’m sure you feel bad about fighting with him, so all you need to do is fix it.” 

I furrowed my brows at the girl.

“What?”

“Go talk to him, you dummy. You guys haven’t been talking... just.. doing.” I slapped her on the arm and she winced in pain.

“You-” I started, but I knew she was right. “are right.”

❀ ❀ ❀

I ignored Byounggon the entire weekend. But then Monday came, and I guess I saw him around campus occasionally. And he knew where I tutored. I guess I was afraid of seeing him all day. 

I walked into the library and felt my mood go down as I saw Junkyu waiting for me. This was weird... Junkyu never waited for me.

He stared at me for a few moments and I braced myself for him yelling at me.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted to my surprise. 

I sighed in shock. “Why? You have nothing to be sorry for.” He hopped off the table and followed me to the lounge. 

“Yes I do, I was an asshole to you. You’re not a mean person and my sister is not better than you. I was too hard on you this week just because I wanted to see her happy. But I should’ve realized it would hurt you because of what I was doing... so I’m sorry.” 

I felt a sadness wash over me thinking back to how miserable I must’ve looked at this moment. I nodded and gave him a tight smile. 

“Thanks dude, but don’t feel too bad. I’m not that upset.” I lied. The boy said nothing even though I knew he wanted to.

❀ ❀ ❀

I shouldn’t have been disappointed that Byounggon never came around. But I was a bit, even though I’d expected it. 

This week taught me that even though I expect things to happen, doesn’t make it any less upsetting.

“See you, y/n.” I waved off Junkyu as I walked to my own dorm. 

As I walked onto my floor, I saw Byounggon standing there. I stopped as we both made eyecontact. I felt my heart stutter as he stood there in black jeans and a striped longsleeve shirt. 

He gave me a nervous smile. 

“Um, can we talk?” 

I nodded quickly. “Sure.” I opened the door to my dorm and let him inside. I tried not to remember what happened the last time he was in my dorm. 

“So...” I started. He tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Um, so I just wanted to tell you that... I never really liked Junkyu’s sister.” My eyes widened. 

“What?”

He sighed and moved closer towards me.

“I never liked Junkyu’s sister. I feel like a dick now but I was sort of using her to get over this other girl I like...” He trailed off but stared at me with a boyish glance. I felt a smile bubble out of me onto my lips. 

“hm, wow, a girl not liking the Byounggon? Unheard of.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, she’s sort of a tough cookie.” I let out a bark of laughter and shoved him, breaking our facade. 

“You asshole, tough cookie? You’ve known for ages that I’ve liked you!” I exclaimed. He looked at me sadly and sighed. “I know, and I’m so, so sorry that I let my sister’s opinion get in the way of how I felt. I should’ve convinced her.” 

He took my hands gently and I relished in their warmth. 

I shook my head. “You did what you thought was protecting me and her. Plus, I couldn’t imagine dating you as a preteen anyways.” He smiled and I had to resist the urge to kiss his dimple. 

“I should’ve controlled myself that Friday night. I shouldn’t have slept with you before we were officially together.” I shook my head. 

“Don’t blame yourself, it takes two to tango.” He laughed at my old analogy. “Plus, we were both very drunk.” I finished. He nodded. 

We stood there in silence. 

“I’m sorry for being such a tough cookie.” I whispered. He shook his head and lowered his face to mine. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was a dick.” 

I laughed.

“Also, Junkyu’s sister told me that she was using me too... so I guess that would’ve never worked out.” My eyes widened. “She got with Mashiho?” Byounggon gave me a weird look.

“Yeah... how did you know that?”

“Oh, I was the reason why she ran out that night... I was dancing with him.” I felt his grip tense but he had no reason to be jealous.

“Of course you were. That’s sorta funny now that I think about it.” I nodded.

“It is indeed.”

“Also, Junkyu told me everything. About that weird operation thing and also told me that you knew so thanks for trying to protect me even though it would hurt you.” 

I gave him a sad smile. “I guess I was more in love with you than I thought.” I confessed. Byounggon was shocked at first, but then his gaze turned intense and hazy. “I was supposed to say that first.” 

I shook my head. “Well you didn’t, so hah.” 

Byounggon didn’t say anything else but lowered me onto my bed. He took off his shirt rapidly and I couldn’t help but enjoy the show. 

“For the record, you’re more than just a one night stand to me.” 

I laughed and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I know, dimwit. Now show me.” 

[lettersofsky]

Gamzee Week Day 7 - New Life

@gamzeeweek Fandom: Homestuck Characters: Gamzee Makara, Eridan Ampora, Karkat Vantas

I GAVE MYSELF EMOTIONS REWRITING THIS ONE. But also hey, completely off topic but things of doing a dumb streamer AU for Gamzee<>Horuss - because I’ve decided it’s my ship now and I want it so look out for that shit I guess.

“You need to get your fucking clown shit together and come talk to us.”

“Nah, think a motherfucker should be stayin all where he is.”

“Gamzee you’re being a fucking moron, even more than you usually are.”

“I’m real certain on this though.”

“Gamzee - “

“Nah. Karkat, I know yah just wanna make shit better between me, Eribro and the rest of yah but I just ain’t seeing how ya can be. We both done things that ain’t in the ways of bein forgivin, it’s better for us ta stay here.”

“You’re just saying that because Eridan doesn’t want to risk sharing.”

“No. I’m saying that cause I’ve caused enough hurt to brothers and sisters that ain’t deserved it none and I don’t wanna do that no motherfuckin more.”

“Gamzee - “

“I ain’t gonna force no motherfucker to accept my presence when it only being distressing to them. We all went through enough of that.”

“Gamzee they’ve fucking forgiven you! How many times do I have to tell you that! Both Nepeta and the sweaty horse bastard have forgiven you and want to talk about shit!”

“I ain’t though.”

“... what?”

“I ain’t forgiven myself for the wicked harshness I’ve dealt onto them. Not at motherfuckin all.”

“...”

“It’s better if I just stay here.”

“But, this whole fucking place is a new opportunity for you fuck face. You don’t have to be alone and away from everyone anymore.”

“I’m used to loneliness Karbro, ain’t no thing to real bother a motherfucker none. ‘Sides, a motherfucker ain’t alone no more. Got Eridan, don’t I?”

“For as long as he hangs around.”

“Hey now, he comes back more than Sea-Goat-Dad did. What more could I be motherfuckin askin for?”

“... a lot Gamzee. You could be asking for a lot fucking more, you no-brained clown.”

“... it’s fine. Life’s fine right now.”

“...”

“Thank for calling a brother Karbro, nice ta be hearing ya again.”

“... yeah, yeah you too. Call me again soon ok? No more of that bullshit, nobody wants to talk to me nonsense.”

“You got it bro.”

“I mean it! You fucking better or I’m going to come over there and smack you myself.”

“I promise! Swear on a brother’s pumper.”

“... At least… tell me you’re happy before I hang up, ok?”

“... what?”

“Gog Gamzee, I still fucking care about you ok you idiot clown? Just… I just want to know that you’re happy with all of this.”

“... I gotta go Karkat, been kept too long, ‘ll be missed.”

“Gamzee don’t you fucking dare hang up now -!”

“Bye bro.”

-click-

RING

Decline.

RING

Decline.

RING

Decline.

~

You don’t think on your conversations with Karkat as a general rule of life, thinking on ‘em makes you sad, makes you miss things that can’t be yours anymore and maybe never motherfucking should’ve been to begin with. … You don’t think on ‘em’s the main thing, you put ‘em outta mind, outta consideration until you had to talk at him again.

So when things… happen you don’t quite realize what’s going on or why at first.

It’s just, it’s a small thing, such a small thing and you don’t know why but it feels like it’s so much more than that.

Eridan, now you ain’t blaming him none for needing to get away at all, he needs to move about himself and enjoying the feeling of water about him and you don’t blame him that none, not for the terror that grips ya each time ya wake up to just find him gone gone gone no word or indication of where or for how long just gone like HE USED TO BE, or for the way you shake and have to follow him around like some kinda pathetic woofbeast pup that ain’t knowing what to do with himself and -

…

Eridan… says goodbye one morning.

He waits until you’re awake proper and emerged from your resting nest, not quite looking at ya and acting his usual self but obvious in his inaction. You’d been surprised, mayhaps even the smallest bit worried at something being wrong but no, he only acknowledged you long enough to say he’d see you at sun’s setting before disappearing into the water and… and it was so relieving to have an idea of when he’d be returning, of when to start expecting. You weren’t so nervous that day, didn’t cast as many looks to the water as your usual and that night when you welcomed him back with purring words and your forehead to his, you felt… better about your day, like you’d actually all managed to be having gotten something done.

It becomes more frequent, more and more common until it’s routine and you can go one entire day without turning your attention towards the swell of the ocean tide seeking out white violet on the horizon. It’s good, you feel good about it, makes the times he’s away longer than a day cycle easier to deal with, knowing he’ll come back.

~

Eridan’s in a snarly motherfuckin mood today and you have to calm him down before he does something he’ll regret but you can’t.

You’d woken from a night terror the night before, visions of glassy blue and the sound of hollow pumper-numbing laughter pulling you from slumber long before dawn and not allowing you back to rest.

You couldn’t be the Gamzee Eridan needed today.

Fuck, you could barely handle being any Gamzee today.

How could you calm Eridan when your own pan was feeding you an endless feedback loop of the feeling of Equius’ throat choking under your command, your strong brother’s motherfuckin smile after he’d died and no no no that wasn’t fair wasn’t fair at all you’d wanted to see his smile since you pupated that wasn’t fair you didn’t want it that way no and the sound of Nepeta’s bones breaking, shattering under your clubs, his best love, his most precious and you destroyed her like she was nothing, meant nothing when she was worth so much more than you ever would be you monster -

Your chest is tight, empty even though you are trying so desperately to get air into it because no, no you need to act need to push all this down and away because Eridan needed you and if you didn’t then he’d leave and you’d be alone again and you’d already failed Karkat you couldn’t handle failing here too you just couldn’t.

But it’s hard.

It’s so hard.

Your vision’s lying to you, showing you blue and green and the brightest motherfucking red and violet violet violet and blue and purple and red and -

“Shoosh.”

Everything freezes.

You stare at Eridan, unseeing, trying to figure out what was going on.

Eridan… he had a hand on your cheek, eyes staring at you like you weren’t something he recognized and no you hated that stop it please you’re so sorry just stay, please stay you will do better you swear…

Eridan, you don’t know if he hears you or not, don’t know if you’re saying those words or if they’re just stuck in your head because you’re so absent right now it’s not fair, but he, he just paps you, shooshs you, tucks you into himself, which is hard cause you’re so much BIGGER than he is, and he keeps you.

You’re safe.

You’re fine.

You aren’t hurting no one no more.

There’s no one to pull your strings anymore.

It’s ok.

You can rest here.

You can be safe here.

You were both learning still, this place could be different, new, anything you wanted it to be if you just put your mind to it.

…

…

You just didn’t wanna be alone anymore. That would be more than ‘new’ enough for you.

You don’t know if Eridan got that, don’t care what kicked him into seeing you weren’t happy with the occurences of your every day life, but this… you could accept this.

You could be content with this.

…

Mayhaps even happy one day.

Yeah, yeah happy would be nice.

[twinfanfics]

The tale of the three head beast. The marching fishes (22/22)

The ending!! OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY THE ENDING

Thank you so much to anyone who wants to read this fanfiction. Now is over. My sis and I are going to take a little break while we start the third part of The Tale of Three head beast. But we love the ending of The Marching Fishes.

Fandom: Digimon GoT au.

Charaters: All the choosen children from Adventure, 02, Tamer and sometimes Frontier.

Ships: Taiyama, Joumi, Daiken, Takary, TakatoxYuri, RikaxRyo …

Second part of the tale of the three head beast series, you can read the first part The chosen children Here and here, or look for the tag  3t3hb  on this blog.

Resume: Three years had pased since Taichi won the hand of princess Sora and both get crowned King and Queen of the living land, now they must faced the duty of the monarchs, but the King is must worried about cover his affair with the royal guard. The war started on the Honest Island, does the King Joe would manage it?. Mean while at the other side of the sea Takato and Ruki stronger their forces.

And you can read all past chapters of the marching fishes in the links below or in AO3

ACT 1. ESCENE 1: THE RAIN

ACT 1. ESCENE 2: THE WILL  

ACT 1. ESCENE 3: THE TRIP

ACT 1. ESCENE 4:THE SON

ACT 2. SCENE 1: THE ARRIVAL

ACT 2. SCENE 2: BROTHERHOOD

ACT 2. SCENE 3: MOTHER | **warning suicide attempt**

ACT 2. SCENE 4: THE BATTLE OF THE IKKAKU ISLAND

ACT 3. SCENE 1: THE INTERROGATION

ACT 3. ESCENE 2:  DELIVERY

ACT 3. ESCENE 3: RED DRESS

ACT 4. ESCENE 1:TRIAL

ACT 4. ESCENE 2: THE SAINT QUEEN

ACT 4. ESCENE 3:THE SPY

ACT 4. ESCENE 4: INTRUDERS

ACT 4: SCENE 5: THE BROKEN SWORD

ACT 5: SCENE 1: THE WIDOW

ACT 5: SCENE 2: WELCOME HOME

ACT 5 : SCENE 3: FAITH

ACT 5: SCENE 4: LIONHEART

ACT 5: SCENE 5: THE PRICE TO PARADISE

Epilogue

Part one

The Light had left her Islands.  The King of all had promised peace for her home when Mimmi  bend the knel. Peace for The Honest Islands, there would be a most pure wish? 

 Iory and Ken were on The Salt. The prison Island. A desertic place were the worst criminals past their last years. Around the Island there were just salt water, infested with the worst leeches and the hottest weather. It was no scape. 

Iory could feel his own sweat draining. The air was heavy and salty, everything stink and in front of him was Ichijouji. HIs brother had always been handsome, always elegant and altive. Now Ken looked like a shadow of himself, skinny and pale, but most important, quiet. At first Ken had been loud and gross. He had cursed Davis name on all the ways posible, he had called Iory a coward and a fool. The guards had not come for them, just had given them an occasional meal. FInally, Ken had reclaimed his own corner on the cell and had leaning over himself to think on silence. 

“It isn't going to work” Iory said. The words between them sound weird and wrong. Ken did not answered “If you are trying to scape you better don't. We both know that it wouldn't work”

Ken kept quiet. 

“You design this prison, you know how cruel it is going to be our death” 

“They should give us separate cells” Ken said at last. And Iory actually laugh at the comment.

“They are waiting for us to kill each other” Iory said “that is why they let you kept that piece of blade on your clothes”

Ken turned to look at him for the first time. 

“I only asking if it is going to be for resentment or mercy” 

“You always surrender so easily” 

“No I don't”

And that made Ken laugh.

“I should had killed you long ago” Ken said showing him the blade. 

“When? When I lost the Ikkaku Island? When I let Davis come back?”

“That time when you replaced all my clothes with pink ones” 

“OH MY GOD, that was so stupid” 

“Even then I was the best dressed on the Gala”

“You and Davis dance all night”

 The silent showed again.

“I am sorry” Iory said. 

“Good” His brother answered.

Other day past and Ken didn't kill him.  At night Iory hear Ken crying. When they stopped to bring them food, Iory cry too. 

“Three days” Ken said “They are going to feed us again in three days to kept us alive” 

Mercy, Iory tough looking at Ken’s blade again.

Ken was right, after three days they started to feed them twice a day, one time at afternoon and one time at morning. 

Fifteen days had passed since they had been arrested when they heard the lock of the cell opened early. 

“They are going to take us to forced labor” Ken said.

“Or they are going to feed the fish with us” Iory answered. 

The Queen Mimmi entered at the room. Iory knelt and reverence until his front touch the floor while Ken lie uncaring over the dirty floor.

“Your majesty” Iory said. 

“Iory, Ken” The Queen greeting “The Light had left the Honest Island. Taichi had left to me to decide what to do with you both”

“Left” Ken said “my favorite eye is the left one, in case you are wondering” 

The eyepatch of the Queen was broided with a rose. She had come to see them alone. 

“Force labor would let the people watch our punishment and would kept the memory of our treason alive, but it would give us the best chances to scaped. The public execution will be better” Iory said calmly.

“The King last will was for you to be alive”  

Iory remember the last word of Joe. ”Don't kill the children” He trembling at the thought of he and Ken as Joe’s children. 

“Children doesn't lead revolutions” Ichijouji said. 

“Well… the KIng of all didn't know that” Mimmi answered 

Iory looked at the Queen. She was composed, but she was not in peace, her purple eye shine and an old blade of the desert rest on her side. 

“What do you want?”

“The Light come to the Island with false promises of peace and when we had solve our problems THe Wolf Knight killed my husband”

“Your majesty” Iory claimed as Ichijouji raised from the floor. 

“Joe was the best of us and they killed him” The Queen said “i am going to do what it has to be done” She get at the door and opened the cell “Stand up, my knights, I, The Queen of the Honest Island, had proclaimed our independency, join me and this land would remember you as libertadores, refused it and you would be forgotten” 

“You are asking for another war, and for what? the people would suffer, Joe knew…” Iory claimed.

“But Joe is death and his murderers are free and ruling!”

“Joe never want a war and if you truly love him you would honor his memory and would rule over the peace that he left you” 

Iory was standing in front of the Queen. He was short for his age, his eyes were brown as his hair. A little rock in the sea, standing. The son of Joe that wasn't hers. 

The forgotten Prince felt the cold iron on his back “For the back, brother?” The child said with sorrow to Ichijouji, who removed the blade from the back of his brother with no hesitation.  

Iory’s body hit the ground and Ken Ichijouji kneel in front of the Queen. 

Mimmi left The Salt with a new knight and that same night she wrote a letter to her sister, the Queen of the Desert would be happy.  

Part two

When he wake up she was already gone.

The remorse craw on his head, why she would stay? What else would she want for him? 

Taichi was not ready for another day, he didn't want Hikari´s eyes over him, her empty words, her endless patient, her lies, her light. 

But behind his door was still dark, no sister, no wife, only one soldier guarding the room.

None of them were ready, Taichi hold his breath uncertain, he want to talk, to come close, but he didn´t know how, Sora´s touch was still fresh on his skin.

“Yamato.... “Since when was he there? did he saw the queen go? did he notice her sweet, her bed hair, her trembling legs?

“Your majesty” The knight do the formal salude, so much melancholy

Taichi flinch, it had been so long since he hear his voice, one word of Yamato and he was able to breath again.

The short distance between them feels like a thousand miles, but it doesn't matter, Taichi run and hold him against the wall, Kissing him had always been easy, they belong together.

“i´m sorry” he murmur at some point when he was able to finally articulate words ”Im so sorry” he repeat while Yamato hands trip under his vest

 “good” he smile while his armor fall over the floor, when they enter to room?

“Yamato.. wait” he use all his strength to separate their bodies “we must be careful, we canot... we cannot make the same mistake twice”

“mistake?” now he was mad, Taichi knows his frowning forehead and the trembling lips 

“No like that, please listen”

“I miss you” somehow it´s feel like a reclaim 

“I.. I... “ No, he wasn't strong enough and once agains he rush to him  “This is dangerous” 

“That's a brilliant discovery your highness, it took you all this time to get to that brilliant conclusion?”

“Shut up!” the skin behind his neck where so soft, her blonde hair has grown at least a few inches since the last time he get to touch him, Taichi get scare for all the new scars on his lover back “ I'm serious”

“Im aware of that, im the lover of the King, i know everyday could be my last”

“I will never allowed that! i promise …” 

“stop, don´t do that” he saw him in confusion “ don´t make any promise” 

“I will protect you” 

 “That's my job” 

“I can…” 

“No you cannot!” Yamato yells  “I´m not afraid of death, look at me Taichi, im not a good man, im a bastard, a liar, a murder” 

“You are not…” 

“Yes im, and if you love me you must accept it , what we do is not right...  Taichi there are only two ways this could end”

“What are you talking about?”

“or I die, or worse”

“Or what?” he could not imagine something more horrible 

“Or you grow tired of me and you  find a new boy toy to fool around” 

“Don't ever said that again” 

“Is that an order you majesty?” 

“Yes”  

“Good, Then it's decided it,  i will die for you my love”

He wish to be stronger, wiser, to dream about something else than his blue eyes, to be selfless enough to make him go away from him; but by the end he was sure, there was no risk in this world he would not take for him.

[strivingscribe]

ILIC ~ CH 29

It’s Lost Its Charm by  MsMoon

Chapter 29 ~ the Morning After

Chapters: 29/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16, 17, 18,19,20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29,

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age,

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence,

Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…

Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).

Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this one :)

First came the smell, though even that wasn’t what woke her. Not quite anyway. Her stomach echoed with a sharp pang to the smell of cooked meat, but what really woke her was the sound. The rusted creak of the door opening and closing, the subtle rattle of a utensil on a plate...soft cloth.

Her eyes pried open, thankful of the dim light. Drifting slowly to her left... her eyes landed on Sam, asleep upright in a chair. His hair was a riot, and his five o’clock shadow had transitioned into ten o’clock scruff.

She cast her gaze around the room, finally noting where the sound was coming from.

“Syra?” she whispered, leveling up on an elbow. The little servant from the kitchens with ash-blonde hair. She was high-stepping over something on the floor before Amy's guttural voice snapped those enormous blue eyes of her up front and center.

“Oh! Amy!” she whispered in a rush, half skipping to the bed. Luckily, instincts honed from long hours in the kitchen kept the plate of food she carried aloft and balanced. “oh! Amy! When we heard what happened we were so worried! Are you hungry?” this confession and question were both rushed one after the other, leaving Amy more than a little confused. There was a joke to be had about care-takers equating health, worry, and food all together... but who had the time for that?

Amy sat up, surprised at the strange union of opposites she felt. She was, at the same time, vital and waning. Weak and strong. Hungry and repulsed at the thought of food.

“I...think I should take it slow.” she determined. “Is everything else going well?”

Syra set the plate of food down on the side table and wrung her hands in her apron a bit. “As well as can be expected. I was sent to rouse Master Trevelyon… He’s had a rough time of it, but being just past eight bells...it’s time he was awake.” the girl’s eyes scattered about the room. “Not sure about your... others here though…”

“Others?”

“The elves sleepin’ on your floor.” she said, motioning towards the foot of the bed. Amy’s frown deepened as she interpreted what Syra was saying. “Shall I bring meals for them as well?”

Amy nodded. “Please do.” she tugged the blankets off, surprised to find her legs bare…. the dress she’d been given was still on, even if a touch rucked up. It hit just above her knees, so she was covered… Why would anyone remove her…

...breeches?

She suddenly wondered if Sera were nearby.

“I’ll wake everyone.” Amy promised. Syra nodded and hopped out of the room.

“Sam.” Amy called softly. He took a deep breath but barely stirred at all. Amy leaned into a standing position, staggering forward a bit before coming to the side of Sams chair. “Sammy, it’s time to wake up.” she said, combing his hair out of his face with gentle fingers.

His head tossed back a bit as he stretched, his spine arching away from the chair back before he relaxed again. Weary eyes cracked open, half-lidded from sleep. It was nothing but naked exhaustion until shock rounded his eyes.

“Amy!” he breathed.

“Morning.” she murmured, stepping away, till she was seated on the bed again. She didn’t want to perch here too long, but she didn't want to push herself either. 

She winced in surprise her arms drawing up and away as Sam slid forward, landing on his knees by her bedside, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face against her hip.

“Thank the Maker.” his voice was rusted, from fear or relief, Amy wasn’t sure. “Solas was livid. He kept saying things like ‘irreparable damage’ and ‘unprecedented fallout’.”

Amy let her hand rest on the curve of his head, hoping to comfort him.

“And Siheta? Bax?”

“Bax had no answers, just wide eyes. Siheta was… she tried to rally for us.”

“Solas is an excellent voice of caution. He understands that potential doesn’t always translate into something that isn’t harmful. Siheta is a comfort because she understands that something that starts bad doesn’t always stay that way.”

She felt him relax before his head snapped up. He drew back, avid gaze never leaving her face.

“You’re talking.”

She smiled. “So it would seem.”

He let out a startled breath that could’ve been a laugh.

“It’s going to be ok.” she assured, her hand drifting down to his shoulder. “Now, help me wake the others.”

She’d wanted to help but she ended up leaning over the footboard of the bed while Sam knelt to shake Tunan awake ...this began a domino effect, as Tunan shook Tunen awake, and Tunen was spooning Magpie. Amy lingered over the footboard, too afraid that once she got on the floor, she’d need help getting back up again.

Once awake, and to the point where she was aware of Amy, Magpie sprung up, nearly knocking Sam over to climb on the bed.

“You’re awake! And...better?” Magpie asked.

Amy nodded. “Sorry to trouble you.”

Magpie blinked, shaking her head in a slight double-take. “You’re...you sound great!”

“Another fantastic discovery.” she said, half leaning back against Sam’s shoulder as he docked on the side of the bed behind her. “We should let Leliana know…”

“I’m more concerned with breakfast.” Tunen grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“That should be on the way.” Amy assured. “Why are all of you on the floor?”

“Because Maggie wouldn’t leave, and there were a lot of opinions about touching.” Tunen complained, half crawling to the other side of the bed until she could climb her way into a standing position...then...she just...toppled over like a tree that had been felled for lumber.

Her brother watched this without surprise or judgement, before rising and rolling up the abandoned bedrolls.

Luckily that was when the door opened, and a very bouncy Syra looped through. Miraculously, the multiple plates of food she carried remained undisturbed.

“Thank you, Syra.” Amy said.

“Yes.” Tunan murmured, taking a couple of plates from her. “Thank you.” he murmured before bringing it around to his sister.

“Oh, don’t mention it.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble?” Amy began.

“Yes?” Syra’s voice was eager, poised like the bands of a slingshot, ready to spring.

“If you wouldn’t mind quietly telling Leliana that I’m awake?”

Syra blinked owlishly, before leaning in and asking. “Should anyone else know?”

Amy thought about that before replying… “Perhaps...not yet.” when Syra nodded, Amy Smiled. “Thank you, dear.”

“This is exciting!” she chirped. “Happy to help.” and then she darted away.

“Kitchen staff…. they’re always hellishly busy… I almost feel bad.” Amy murmured.

“Please.” Magpie grunted around a sausage. “Any break from the kitchens is a good thing.”

Amy nodded. The Inquisition had a lot of people to feed.

“Well… Good morning, everyone.”

Amy felt Sam chuckle behind her, which was startling. It was then that she was struck by how common it had become…. that is... Sam never let anyone touch him. This prolonged contact felt shocking. She recalled the feeling of pins and needles any time Sam was very close before now… it was gone. Had this been some sort of energy from the mark? If so, how did it connect with her?

“So… you’re all better?” Sam asked, his voice hedged by uncertainty.

Amy considered the question as she considered the porridge Magpie was pushing her way.

“Getting there.” She announced at last. “A little shaky, but no bouts of overwhelming agony.”

A breath puffed Sam up and deflated him in the next second.

“So… if you’d touched the mark months ago, you would’ve been fine?”

Amy shrugged. “Impossible to say now. Maybe it would’ve killed me. Maybe I needed time to adjust...or maybe I would’ve gotten over it in the same amount of time.” she shook her head. “If what Siheta and I have discussed has taught me anything… it’s that the physical world does its best to adapt around the veil. That which doesn't adapt, changes… it’s equal parts skill, resilience, and luck.”

“But, you are feeling ok… right?” Tunan asked.

“I probably need to take it slow. Drink plenty of water and have easy foods.”

Magpie pushed a cup of water into her hands, and Amy laughed softly. She took tiny sips, then paused for any reaction from her stomach… when none came, she followed those sips with gulps. She felt the muscles in her face relax, and knew she was probably fine (even if a touch dehydrated). She still felt a little breathless, but… she would build up those reserves again.

A loud thunk clunked through the room before the door creaked open and closed again. Leliana wafted into a room of people watching Amy drink water…

“You certainly know how to keep people on the edges of their seats.” she remarked.

“Let’s hope it’s a phase.” Amy half groaned. “I won’t speak for the rest of you, but I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

Leliana’s eyebrows brose, a new light in her eyes. “You do sound much improved.”

Amy nodded. “Small favors. Our debriefing sessions have been painful on both sides, I know.”

In the time Sam had been gone to scout for Skyhold, Amy and Leliana had hidden away in her private quarters. Amy dictating information which she wrote in her own hand, and Leliana scribbling it down in the Thedosian equivalent. While Leliana never complained about this arrangement, Amy’s broken speech had been aggravating for Amy if nothing else.

“I assume today will be a day of recovery.” Leliana murmured, and she didn’t even sound resentful about it. Leliana had been accommodating in their interactions, but Amy wasn’t sure if this was because Amy had useful secrets, or because Leliana cared about Amy as a person. Still, she searched for hope.

“Yes.” Sam said, a strange firmness stiffening his tone. It reminded Amy of Conner when he tried to use ‘dad-voice™’ to convey authority.

Leliana only nodded in response. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Plans?” Sam asked, confused.

“A slow tour, I think.” Amy supplied, getting a sigh from Sam. The man’s eyes drifted closed, as he silently prayed for endurance.

“That’s 5 gold you owe me.” Magpie announced in triumph.

“That wasn’t a real bet.” Sam grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

“Would it be a real bet if you’d won?” Magpie snarked.

“Wench.”

“Children.” Amy admonished, before returning to her conversation with Leliana. “Most likely a very slow tour.”

Leliana nodded. “We should begin spreading word of your recovery. Not that it would stop everyone from working themselves into a frenzy upon seeing you.”

Amy nodded. “I imagine keeping it simple won’t curtail any flights of fantasy.”

“It hasn’t worked for me.” Sam muttered.

“Another brick in the myth of the Herald.” she bemoaned. Amy smiled, trying to accept this with as much grace as possible. “We shouldn’t begrudge them the stories they need to tell themselves in order to have hope.”

“I just wish those stories weren’t about me.” Sam groused.

“Now you know how Hawke feels.” Amy murmured. Amy felt herself tense up when Sam leaned over and embraced her. “Uh… Sammy?... I’m not wearing any breaches.” she murmured.

Sam drew back, staring at her in shock. “You’re not…. what?” He leaned forward, lifting the bottom of the blanket she was wrapped in near her ankle, revealing a very bare calf.

He looked back up at her, meeting her gaze before they both muttered, “Sera.” at almost exactly the same time.

“Perhaps now is a good time to mention that Madam Vivienne has been asking after your condition.” Leliana informed, a smirk tugging at her mouth. “It seems she’s seeing your latest escapade as a reason to provide you with new clothing.”

Amy’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “Thank Zod.” She murmured in a sigh of relief. Her eyes darted to Sam, who looked surprised at her words before she turned back to Leliana. “Leliana, I’m going to pose a scenario to you, because I’m uncertain exactly what I should do.”

Leliana’s eyebrows rose, but she only nodded as if to say, ‘go on’.

“Without indebting or ingratiating myself to Madame de Fer, I would like to make it clear that her counsel is appreciated in all things. That being said, I cannot stress enough how much I want her help in attaining...better clothing.”

And at that, Leliana did smile. And it was not cruel or patronizing in the slightest.

“Depending on how quickly you would like to go about this, I could send a servant with a message expressing your desire to meet with her and to inquire when she may expect to receive you.” she offered, and Amy found it a strange mixture of touching and curious. She couldn’t help but wonder why Leliana seemed so pleased to be helpful...

“Orlesians.” Sam groaned.

“Madame de Fer isn’t native to Orlais,” Amy informed. “...it’s simply the country in which she thrives.” She let out a deep breath, her eyes pinning Sam in place. “And that attitude of yours is unbecoming.” she added, sounding much like a big sister fussing at a younger brother. “It would serve you well to recall that many people make up this Inquisition. Vital, necessary people of diverse backgrounds and skills, and all of them bring….” Amy’s mouth tilted in a frown as she shrugged, “Je ne sais quoi… but they bring it to us.”

Sam blinked rapidly at her.

“What...what did you just say?” Magpie asked in the resounding stillness. “That phrase? What was it?”

“I don’t know what.” Amy responded.

“What you just said. The Genis ayqua.” Magpie clarified, or tried to.

Amy’s eyes scrunched up as she huffed little laughs around the phrase. “Free shavak ado.”

“What??” Sam's aghast cry was betrayed by the joy tugging at his lips and the light shining in his eyes. “What are you on about, you mad, mad woman?”

Leliana laughed softly with her, and the elves and Sam continued to stare between the two of them.

“We’ve lost them.” Tunan observed, his tone dull as it was blunt. He sighed, looking over at his sister, who seemed ready to fall asleep again.

Amy cleared her throat. “Sorry. ‘Je ne sais quoi’ is...” she almost said ‘French’, then thought perhaps Orlesian was a better term… but stopped herself, because she wasn’t certain about dialects or accents or...anything really. “….it means ‘I don’t know what’. It’s...My mother would say it often. Usually, to ambiguously describe a quality a person had that was just… just something, but it was unnamable.”

“Very aptly put.” Leliana murmured, still smiling, though it was more reserved than before. Still… she’d expressed more joy in Amy’s presence this morning than Amy had ever seen of her. It made Amy ...hopeful. “I will have your request sent to her, and you can most likely expect a response within the hour. She will undoubtedly send a servant with information of when she’d like to expect you, and we can go from there. Though… I don’t know if it’s entirely necessary. You are both in the same camp. Still. She will look kindly on the gesture of gentility.”

“Oh… she will.” Amy said with a nod. “I also don’t want to imply that I’m superior to her, or beneath her in any way.” Amy explained, her eyes drifting to the bedding. “This simple civility would be a way to do that.”

She didn’t see Sam rolling his eyes, still unimpressed with the Orleasian frippery.

“But…” this break in the conversation came from Magpie. “I mean, I get why you want to start moving about, but…” her face slipped into an uneasy grimace. “A full tour?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I can’t walk the entire field, I don’t think.” Amy soothed, and both Magpie and Sam seemed to breathe a little easier at that admission. “I certainly don’t want to try. Cullen might just pull his hair out if I caused that much of a disruption.”

“You might be surprised.” Sam grumbled, staring absently at nothing. “He’ll most likely be in a generous mood where you’re concerned.”

Amy blinked, not entirely clear in Sam’s meaning.

“He was very worried for you, Amy.” Magpie announced. “All of the soldiers were.”

“I don’t doubt that, but that doesn’t mean…” Amy sighed. “Especially now, when I’m not sure of my limits, I think I’ll be avoiding the field until specifically summoned.”

“Safe bet.” Tunan muttered. “Where do you think you’ll need us?”

Amy looked from him to his slumped over twin. “Why don’t you two stay and sleep in on an actual bed.” Amy proposed.

Tunan’s mouth hung open slightly as he tried to think of a response. Tunen beat him to it. “I can get behind that.” her words vibrated through the blankets beneath her face as she tried to burrow under them. Amy couldn’t help but smile at the display.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to take a bit of a lay-in as well?” Magpie nearly pleaded.

“Might take a nap later on in the day if things get rough. But… we gotta start sometime.” Amy shook her head, feeling that tightness in her chest again as she thought of everything that needed to be done. “And oh, Scooby Dooby-doo, we’ve got work to do now.”

[bouncepawwritesstuff]

Catseye

Summary: The Vault of the Traveler was supposed to set them all up for a good long while, but all it did was rip a friend away from them and set forward a series of events they could have never foreseen.

It's been over a year and a half since Rhys vanished into the Vault and wasn't sent back out. As much as it pains them, they've had to move on with their lives. But fate, and the Eridians, have far more planned for them they ever could've thought.

Word Count: 3,338

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Pairings: Queerplatonic/Early Rhys/Vaughn

Notes: This is my first foray into the Borderlands fandom. I just started playing the games about a month ago after I picked up Tales as part of a Humble Bundle. There's more planned for this if people end up being interested in it. First in a possible series.

This operates under the assumption that the Vaults were more than repositories for some bad ass loot.

It was supposed to be an easy job. Something to shake the dust off, warm them back up into the vault hunting business after months and months of searching for their missing fourth friend and little actual combat. It had been almost a year and half since Rhys had disappeared with the light of the vault and had not been spat back out with Fiona.

For Fiona, bare seconds had passed, but it had been weeks of frantic searching where Sasha, Athena and Janey and Vaughn and countless Children of Helios had scoured hundreds of miles of desert for them while Gortys and Loader Bot did their best to try and track his cybernetics in an effort to find them both, old Hyperion software turned to better purpose.

Her return had been cause for celebration, but it was short lived when they realized Rhys was not with her and that they still had no idea where the wayward cybernetic man was gone to.

Eventually though Athena and Janey needed to return to Hollow Point to run the garage and the Children needed to focus on building their lives out of the metal graveyard of the space station. Vaughn would come out when he could be spared for a few days, but the Village in the Ruins needed it's leader, even as the Children became braver, bolder and more at home on Pandora.

Sasha and Fiona never gave up, picking up odd jobs at various settlements as they drive the caravan around, desperately hoping to hear some rumor of a lanky suit out of his element or a sight of overly flashy cybernetics.

Eventually, even Sasha gave up, though it was obvious it broke her heart to do. To her, Rhys was like the older dorky brother she never knew she wanted, and despite the shortness of the time they'd known him, he'd grown on them, like some stupid large asshole cat too cute for his own good.

Zer0 and the other hunters offered to keep an ear to the ground and Janey released Athena to them to restart their training.

Vaughn took the news hardest of all, and Fiona had too many nights of waking up to heart-broken whimpers in the room next door, turning over and pressing a pillow over her ears to offer what semblance of privacy she could in the thin walls of their constructed apartment.

(Fiona tried so, so hard not to think of quiet nights on the caravan chugging towards the Atlas dome. Tried not to remember gentle fingers in amber locks, soft smiles and warm words exchanged in the soft blue glow of a cybernetic eye. Of soft fingers over scarred flesh and warm metal. Of an easy affection that spoke of years of a deep emotional connection that she could probably never hope to comprehend.)

That had been almost three months ago. Vaughn had thrown himself into the care of the Village in the Ruins  and his Children, still carrying about him the mein of a man in mourning. No one mentioned it when he returned from a three day patrol, smelling faintly of fire and moonshine, a familiar pattern inked into the side of his neck in a shade of blue.

And Fiona and Sasha? They dealt with the loss in the only way they knew how. A crime spree in several settlements, leaving them baffled with pretty faces and quick words and gunfire. And now?

This mission was supposed to be simple. Athena was in Hollow Point with Janey again, settling for popping in on them every few weeks. She figured this job would be good for them. A camp of bandits that had been harassing the Village in the Ruins as not many did now that the Children had such a fearsome reputation for defending their little patch of the playground.

Only, the camp seemed deserted.

Or, rather, not deserted, but destroyed. Like some huge trample of animals or maybe one of the other vault hunters had paid a visit and left this in their wake. Corpses lay strewn about carelessly, likely where they fell, and blood had leaked and caked into the sand, leaving behind frankly disgusting stains in the dirt. Tents lay rended on their poles and fires were scattered from their rings and barrels.

Ok, this was too much chaos for even one of the other vault hunters. Even Krieg didn't leave such destruction in his path. And the marks! Like deep claws had sunk into flesh and torn away, flaying open flesh in thick neat lines, some larger than others. There was likely no one alive in the entire camp, but they were careful as they moved forward, guns ready to spring up at a moment's notice.

"What do you think it was? Skag pack?" Even as Sasha said it aloud, Fiona could hear the disbelief in her voice and she shook her head, pulling up the scarf to cover her nose, desperately trying to block out the copper scent of blood that soaked the land.

"Not even a rabid skag pack could do this much damage. And no bodies? Any half-assed bandit with a gun can take out a couple skags. There would be something. No crush marks so it's definitely not some horrible variety of bullymong making their home here in the dessert."

The sisters shared a shudder at the mere thought of that.

"Maybe Athena knows?" Fiona wrinkled her nose at the thought of disturbing their mentor so early into their first mission back but this was very quickly becoming apparent that it was well out of their level of expertise.

"Yeah, alright. Take a look around but stay within sight." Sasha rolled her eyes but gave her an affectionate hip check as she passed her and Fiona opened up her comm, scrolling until she came to Athena's business comm frequency. It rang for only a few moments before Athena's frowning face came into view.

"I really can't leave you two alone for more than a few days can I?" She gruffed and Fiona could hear Janey's bright laugh in the background.

"I'd take more offense to that if we weren't so out of our depth here." Something in her voice must have caught Athena's attention because she was suddenly closer to the screen, face set in a mask of consternation.

"Show me." Was all she said and Fiona turned the comm around so Athena could see the wreck of the destroyed camp. Judging by the intake of breath from the other end, it was something unusual even for the veteran vault hunter.

"No animal bodies, just bandits. Bandit bodies and these claw marks, but nothing else besides  a lot of blood."

"I got something!" Fiona sighed. Leave it to her kid sister to find something just as she was reporting on the lack of nothing around them. Fiona loped over to where she was crouching in the sand near the base of one of the ruined tents. There in the sand was something glinting and purple, some viscous liquid refusing to meld into the sand like all the blood around them.

"Get to the caravan. Now." Both sisters exchanged alarmed looks and Fiona turned the comm back, prepared to demand an explanation of her but Athena was being helped into her armor by Janey. "Don't argue! Into the caravan and lock the door. I'm going to fast travel to the Village and meet you there. Do not drive! You'll only attract it's attention."

Self-preservation won out over curiosity and both women made their way swiftly back to the caravan, bolting the door behind them and pulling the heavy metal shade down over the windshield. Athena had hung up on them, but Sasha almost instantly got a call from Vaughn. Behind Vaughn they could see the Children scrambling into technicals, whooping and hollering the whole while.

"Athena just got here and we're mobilizing. We'll be at your location in about an hour. Athena wants us to stop about a mile away and come on foot."

"Did she tell you what we were dealing with? She just saw the purple stuff and told us to book it back to the caravan." Before Vaughn could answer Athena's voice rang in from behind.

"Muscles! Give me that comm and drive!" There was a tussle as the comm was passed off and the roaring of the technicals filled the air and Athena's face was back, grim and pale ina  way they'd never seen before, even when she was facing down the end of Vallory's rocket launcher.

"Will someone just tell us what's going on?!" Sasha's patience was waning in the way it did when the situation was out of her control for too long. To be fair, Fiona was feeling the same way and she watched intently as Athena sighed heavily and looked so very uncharacteristically unsure.

"There's- well there's no real name for them. Just stories, legends that started coming around shortly after people started hearing about vaults and Sirens. They're like guardians, especially to powerful Sirens, people bent and twisted by the power of eridium and the vault artifacts. There's only two confirmed sightings in history and the last one was a very, very long time ago. Like, hundreds of years."

She rubbed her face with one hand, leaning over to mutter something to Vaughn inaudibly. "They rampage and feed until they're at full power and then, well, no one is sure. No one survived when the last one eventually reached that level. And judging by the brutality of this attack, and the fact that most of their blood is still there, it's done feeding and it's playing now. Stretching powers and getting used to them."

Something like horror sank deep in her gut, heavy and dark and Fiona shuddered. Some awful Eridian construction, fed and bled on dozens if not hundreds of bandits, pet and protector to a very powerful Siren? That had possible apocalypse written all over it. Or at least a very bad time.

"How do we kill it?" Fiona asked, doing her best to mask her sudden crushing fear.

"We don't." At their perplexed looks Athena gave them a grim expression of determination. "Like I said, at this level it'd shred each and every one of us and then use our ribs as chew toys. Our best bet is to distract it long enough with flash bangs to get you out of there. They supposedly have excellent hearing and sight, so enough of them set off consecutively should disable it enough for everyone to safely retreat. If we're out of eyesight it should lose interest enough to leave us alone."

Nothing was spoken of whatever catastrophic event that had, in the past, killed all witnesses. Supposedly it wasn't enough to rend the planet to shreds, so maybe the impact was smaller than that, or maybe the job of the Siren and her pet had nothing to do with the planet's surface.

"Just hang tight, we'll be there shortly."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He snuffled in the crate, ignoring the cold wind on his skin, cutting through his tattered leather and cloth trousers. It was getting dark and colder still, and while the cold was no match for him, he knew his Siren hated the cold. Blankets. He needed blankets, and lots of them.

The crate yielded several thick comforters and he yanked them out, grabbing them up carefully in his claws and scurrying away from the decimated camp to the cave where his Siren lay. She was so much healthier now, but he couldn't resist the nervous tug at their bond, chuffing with relief when she pushed back with warmth-love-amusement.

Having another person in his head had taken getting used to, but his Siren felt such a part of him that the adjustment had taken mere minutes. Weeks ago, they'd been flung out into the merciless desert in  flash of purple and blue lightning. She was weak and thin, barely conscious, and he hardly stronger than a runty skag pup. But he knew what he was meant to do. Feed and grow, provide, protect his Siren. His. No one else. The last one was incomplete, unworthy, wrong, but he was perfect and she would be safe-loved-his. Nothing would stand in the way of that.

And so he'd stashed his Siren in the most spacious but secure cave he could find, and he hunted. Everything he could get his claws on he killed and bled, drinking forth their strength and making it his. If he was strong, so was she. If he was fed, so was she. His warmth, her warmth.

Every night he would curl around her, and she was so small in comparison to his own frame. She would whisper words of love and gratitude into his temple, their bond thrumming with content and his purr filling the cave. She told the stories of a man she once knew, all bright grins and love of cats and freckles high on his cheeks. Of a man with stupid socks who could make her smile no matter what. Of a man who had loved her but had gone so very, very wrong.

Sometimes, the stories annoyed him. Not that she would tell him them, but rather sometimes he felt half complete when she spoke, even with their bond humming in his head. Like there was another person in head, just out of reach of him and without him he would never be right. She would soothe him, promise him that it would come in time, and he would content himself with her declarations. His Siren knew best.

Now though, now he was strong. He hadn't meant to bleed the whole camp, only the last few he needed to be full, and then he wouldn't need to hunt for weeks, but the others wouldn't leave him alone and they tried to follow him back to the cave and he couldn't allow that. He could admit he'd gone overboard and his Siren was sure to chastise him for it but her safety was worth it.

The cave was warm for the fire that crackled merrily in the squat barrel and he tottered forward, dropping his armload of comforters on his Siren, purring at her shrieks of indignant laughter. Soon she had cocooned herself and he had dragged in enough old building timbers to keep the fire going overnight. He had just settled his body around her when  a sound caught his ear and he raised his head. His Siren's hand stilled their motions in his patchy hair as he began to growl.

People. People in vehicles. Had they come for his Siren? Knowing he wouldn't settle until he'd checked it out, his Siren gave him leave to go and he sprang out of the cave, bare feet silent on still-damp sand as he headed towards the noises.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was barely an hour but already creeping dark when Athena rang them again to let them know they could see the caravan where they were. She wanted them to ready the caravan to go, because as soon as the creature was stunned they would need to peel backwards and away, wasting no time to get away. They would only have a few minutes. Athena, Vaughn and three of their fastest runners were coming weighed down with grenades. They would stun the creature, jump into the caravan and then they would connect with all the technicals a couple miles away.

Fiona raised the shutter as Sasha settled into the driver's seat, ready to turn the key as soon as the others were in. Fiona went to the door, ready to throw it open the minute she need to. Moments later the raiding party was there and Athena nodded, watching as one of the Children yanked a pin out of a grenade and tossed it into the dirt.

There was a sharp crack and a muted flash of light and then silence.

Then a roar shook the camp and a humanoid shape came crashing to the ground from one of the cliffs surrounding the camp, leaving a huge crater in the sand. The creature roared, a sound human vocal cords should not be able to make. But then again, according to Athena, it wasn't really human anymore, was it?

Everyone cocked their arms back, prepared to throw the grenades when a flicker of fire passed over the creature's face and Fiona felt herself freeze in utter horror just as Vaughn's scream rent the air.

"STOP!"

The Children immediately lowered their arms even as Athena hissed a curse at him. Even the creature stopped, lowering its arms and settling down into all fours. Athena's face turned the color of spoiled cream and she gasped and Fiona felt what little strength she had leave her knees as she slammed the door open noisily, spilling into the sand as if she could do nothing else, her sister behind her.

Rhys.

It was Rhys, it just had to be. He was tall still, so stupidly tall, and lanky but there was whipchord muscle there now, rippling as he shifted. His metallic arm was all chrome and black, purple lights twinkling here and there and his eyes, purple and slitted both watched them with confusion and hope and caution. Both hands ended in wicked claws and one fang hung over his lip. His hair, once so sleek and full, was shorter and uneven, like it had been groomed with unsteady claws and small black and purple horns, probably half a foot, jutted out of the top of his skull.

Wounds marred pale skin, some old, some new and still dripping pale purple fluid and they mixed with a terrible beauty into the new vibrant blue and purple tattoos that tracked over his entire torso, dipping into the waistband of his pants.. He was crouched in the sand like a dog, a long black tail with a purple tuft swishing in the air, a curious little whining sound leaving him and he took a few cautious steps forward. He walked on two legs and with an odd sinuous grace that was distinctly not human.

Athena raised her gun, making as if to shoot him out of instinct but Vaughn surged towards the other man, babbling his name all the while and bowling into him. Rhys went with momentum happily, rolling with Vaughn in the sand and nuzzling him, Vaughn's watery voice mixing with Rhys' high sounds of what was unmistakably joy.

Eventually they came to a stop, Rhys comfortably sprawled out under the smaller man, eyes closed and purring as Vaughn burrowed into his chest. It seemed like a moment they were very much not meant to witness and the Children had already turned away, Athena as well.

"Aww that's really cute!" They whipped around to the new voice and came face to face with a young girl. She was wearing fairly put together leathers in white and gold of all colors, and her long black hair was braided with obvious care, except for where it was shorn close to her head, revealing metallic ports. She was gazing at the scene with open affection as she swung her legs from her perch on an outcropping. She was barely a teen, maybe fourteen at most but she radiated power like nothing Fiona had ever felt in her life, except for maybe the vault.

Oh. Her brain put together the pieces faster than she would've thought possible at the moment. This must be the Siren.

"And who are you?"

The girl took her eyes off the scene to look at Athena, blue eyes calculating for a moment before she grinned widely and jumped lightly down, moving towards them with a grace that belied her age.

"Yea I suppose that's as good a place as any to start, since I can't imagine managing to pull those two apart any time in the near future." Her voice was light with honest joy and amusement.

"So, uh, yea! Hi, I'm Angel."