#brother day fanfiction

[anundyingfidelity]

SHOULD HAVE KNOWN — Brother Day/Cleon XII

Summary: Brother Day seduces the queen of a powerful realm with the objective of taking everything away from her in the middle of Hari Seldon's outburst, but forbidden feelings flourish and a secret relationship with Empire is a sharp threat to the genetic dinasty. Demerzel knows the Cleons are not allowed to see past pleasure, but that never stoped you or Brother Day from seeing each other. Now, he's not the only Brother Day that's awake. Or so you thought.

Pairing: Past Brother Day/Cleon XII x female reader, Dark!Brother Day/Cleon XII x female reader.

Word count: 2.7k.

Warnings: dark smut, some choking, some possessiveness, angst, language, threats of memory loss, betrayal, Demerzel being a heartless bitch, this is situated in the beginning of S1. And just for some context, the Cleon XII that did fall in love with the reader is replaced with a new Cleon XII, hence they are the same name of Cleon in the pairing, I'm sorry if it's confusing lol but just wanted to clarify.

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

notes: this was a request part of my 400 followers drabbles made by @curiouswildi but i decided to make a long one shot because brother day deserves it. long time since my last foundation fic lol. sorry for the looong wait, hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

You remembered his kisses. The way he would talk to you. The soft side of the emperor he saved for you and only you to see; for you to know he cared about you with small but kind actions. To know he loved you with each and every one of them as he took you around the palace.

Love was a strong word as much as a strong sentiment, and certainly was not on your plans once you finally landed on Trantor to meet Brother Day and reinforce your political alliance. After centuries of your lineage not having any contact further than trade with the Empire, it seemed wise to accept the emperor's invitation to come along.

Brother Day, of all of the three Cleon’s, was interested the most in your planet. Rich in culture, religion, natural resources such as potable water, rare plants and medicines, and a small population suitable to subsist in a green forest, he seemed fascinated by how you managed your government with such strength and boldness. When it arrived, his invitation looked perfect to maintain a business relationship and develop the trade between both planets.

Everything looked good for your arrival, more than that to be fair. As the queen, you were to participate in different programs and meetings assigned to your schedule while in Trantor, letting you and Brother Day know each other more and more as those events went by. And as months passed, the political alliance you had was becoming something else and more personal.

It wasn’t just because you wanted the best for your people, but because you fell in love with Brother Day. Deeply, you knew it was prohibited and that you were playing with fire once the physical pleasure started to become something more than just that. Scared and anxious, you confessed your feelings to Empire. Surprisingly, he confessed to be in love too.

The hidden encounters didn’t stop, but you were more cautious than ever. Demerzel had been noticing your shared looks and your body language. Being the all observant assistant to the Cleons, she was so, very aware that what you were doing together was more than just fucking, which was already wrong. You had no wiped or erased memories since you were no whore from the court, meaning you remembered every encounter together. And deep down, you never expected this kind of plan coming from her.

Pacing on the cell Demerzel had brought you in, forcefully under your night sleep, you lost count in the hours you had spent down there. What if Cleon was dead? Did she already have a plan to replace him? Would she kill you soon? Endless and unanswered questions filled your head, wondering if it had been wrong to declare your feelings to the Emperor like that. Your demeanor switched when Cleon came down the stairs, followed by Demerzel. There was a stern and harsh look on his face as he approached you, and you did your best to keep calm, walking to the invisible wall and the lights that separated both of you.

“Cleon, what is this—”

“Don’t speak,” he cut you off.

“Brother Day already committed treason to the Empire. You must not be together anymore,” the blonde added with an expressionless face.

You gasped and your gaze was directed towards her, demanding answers. “What? Demerzel, what did you do to him?”

“Only the necessary to keep the Dinasty alive. You are a threat to Trantor, and should know better than to see past myself,” she replied.

Looking back at him with a hurted look, you clenched your jaw. “Cleon, you promised!” you shouted, making the voice an echo in the prison down the palace.

“Can you leave us for a moment?” he said calmly to Demerzel, not even bothering to look at her, as his eyes remained on you.

She gave a nod and a small reverence and left, her steps on the stairs fading away.

“I demand to know what is happening, Cleon,” you sternly said once Demerzel was gone.

“I do not owe you anything but to say this is not going as planned,” he answered with a serious look on his face that was kind of hard to decipher. “What we had was wrong and I must take the lead to complete the main objective.”

“I’m sorry?”

His robotic demeanor started to scare you, and you doubted that the Cleon you got to know was the same one that was standing right in front of you, with just an invisible wall separating both.

“Your planet is mine now,” Cleon announced. “It belongs to Trantor and the Empire.”

You let out a loud gasp, suppressing an unamused laughter under your breath at the sudden news. “No, no. That cannot be— That’s not possible!”

“I’m afraid it is. My tropes are already taking care of it right now, while you’re here.”

The look in his eyes didn’t soften, and you were just expecting his words to be a kind of harsh and rude joke. But you knew they were not. He was being damn serious about it. There was a pain in your chest as he broke your heart with his statement. You knew he didn’t love you anymore, but also the question was there, floating in your head. Was he capable of doing so the whole time you spent together? The empty promises of destroying the genetic dynasty, having children on his own, and uniting your kingdoms by loving marriage were gone.

“You lied to me,” you muttered, locking your eyes with his own. A mix of anger and sorrow began building up inside as a tight knot on your throat started to grow up.

“No, you lied to yourself,” Cleon plainly answered. “You should’ve known better, my queen.”

The way he dragged your title with his mocking voice caused you to clench your fists together by your sides. “What did Demerzel do to you?” you demanded. “Did she just get rid of your memories? Did she clone you? This is not human, Cleon, I think you remember us talking about that.”

“Oh, I do remember,” he replied and a greedy smirk formed on his lips. “But the previous me was so… sentimental. I am awaiting a crisis and I need all the resources that I can get for Trantor. Your planet fits perfectly for those plans, but we would’ve gotten nothing with that thing you call love. I cannot let anyone interfere, not even myself.”

“So that’s why she just dumped you for a new doll?”

Your words seemed to trigger something inside him. His fist bumped on the invisible force field keeping you locked, and you jumped slightly, taking two steps back at his sudden reaction.

“Careful with what you say,” Cleon threatened in a dim whisper, his lips were put on a tight line now as the smile faded quickly away from his face.

In a swift motion, Cleon opened the barrier with his fingerprint on the side of the cell. His tall figure approached you gracefully, looking down at you with something you interpreted as hatred and longing, but you were not sure. You remained on the same spot while he studied you carefully with his narrowed, hazel eyes.

“Do not try to scare me away,” you began as you held his gaze once it was back on your face. “I am not one of your subjects.”

“Maybe not, but you are more than that to me,” Cleon whispered, angling himself so his lips would brush one of your ears softly. “Right?”

You froze in place, feeling the palm of his hand brushing your cheek when you tried to look away. He held your jaw, his gesture forcing you to lock his gaze with yours and you admitted to yourself he was right. You had fallen deeply for him, believing every word that he would recite to you. The gentleness that was now long gone had you wrapped around his finger, and now, this was the price. You should have seen it coming. Cleon, as much as he professed his love and the desire of feeling human again and conceiving a true empire by your side, had created a dynasty system that endured for centuries and back up plans for situations like these should’ve been there even before your arrival. He was so stupidly selfish. And the worst part was that your heart somewhere still loved him.

When Cleon leaned down to kiss you, you only hoped your people would fight with claws and teeth for their freedom.

There was a cruelty you sensed coming from him once he attacked your lips. However, it didn’t stop you from responding to the gesture. The physical touch was the beginning of everything; even if you knew now it was utterly wrong, you reciprocated his desire. Probably, the last time you were able to touch him and feel him again, you thought as he forced you to walk backwards, until you felt the cold wall pressing against your back.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as his long fingers pulled down the straps of your dress and his mouth nipped at the skin of your neck. He left wet kisses down your collarbone, until he kissed over your bare breasts, the dress falling off from you easily until it hit the floor and he took you in between his arms as if you weighed nothing. Cleon looked over at you, your legs wrapped around his waist, just giving yourself to him one last time before what was coming after.

“See?” he began, using his thumb to play with your swollen lips and enjoying the way you fought to catch your breath. You were getting wet already and somehow, you hated yourself for being so weak for him. “You’re always more than a pretty subject to me.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

He arched a perfect brow at your question. “I might have different plans for you.”

“Just do what you have to do already, Cleon,” you berated, both of your hands cupping his cheeks and pulling him towards you closely before kissing him again. “Do it.”

“Well, then I shall take what belongs to me,” he mumbled.

And so he did. He pushed your panties aside immediately as you went to grip his groin, earning a low growl from him, still tasting your lips in the process. You quickly undid his blue shirt in a swift motion while breaking the hot kiss you were sharing, and you finally felt his chest pressing against yours. Cleon accommodated your body firmly between his own and the hard wall, grinding his hips to feel some friction. He gasped once you slipped your hand inside his pants and worked on his hardening cock with soft, but firm strokes.

Enjoying the feeling of your warm palm and fingers, he moaned against your neck, biting and licking on your sweet spot. His fingers went to work on your wet slit, rubbing and teasing your entrance with his index and middle fingers. You let yourself relish in the moment, thinking this would be the last time you could feel his body pressed against yours so intimately, remembering the softness of his skin and the roughness of his touch. How he would embrace you sweetly if you asked, but you could have it rough if you pleaded good enough for his excitement. Cleon would comply with your deepest wishes with such passion, as much as he promised before to stay by your side and create a better empire together. But those were not possible things by now, and the only thing that really mattered was his kisses and his firm body against yours.

“Please, just do it,” you begged with a breathy moan, feeling one long finger sinking inside your cunt.

He slowly set a pace while marking your neck with his teeth, stretching you open for him. His cock already aching to fill you up completely and rip you apart just like he knew how to make you squirm under him. The pace of his fingers now made a obscene noise as he fucked you with them, and you clinged to his huge frame, digging your nails on his bare shoulders and bucking your hips. And just as you were about to reach that sweet climax, he stopped, pulling his digits out and accommodating you around his legs. You whimpered softly when you felt his cock pressing against you, aligning with your wet heat.

“This is your last wish,” Cleon breathed out. “And since I’m merciful, I can make it true.”

With a particular hard trust, he slid inside you. A rather loud moan filled the empty room once he started to fuck you harshly; his hands groping at your hips to keep you in place as he used you to get what he longed the most: sweet release, just before you’d be sent away for the next phase of the sinister plans prepared ahead of you. You clenched repeatedly around his shaft, and the sound of skin hitting against each other made echo under the dim light of the prison.

As seconds went by, you tried to fight the urge to cry out his name. You would not give him the satisfaction of hearing his name being moaned beautifully with your voice. And you could barely think straight as he kept fucking you, taking in the grip on your hips that would leave bruises and marks on your skin, the gasps and deep breaths he used to take, his face focused on the sight below where he entered inside you for his own pleasure, reaching the deepest places that made you roll your head back when his hand wrapped around your neck, cutting off air for a moment…

Despite everything, you loved him. And the ache of Cleon not being yours anymore kept growing and growing, as much as the pleasure did. For a moment, you didn’t want this to be over. You didn’t want to know what type of destiny they had prepared for you. Instead, you could just die there and then, after he’d be done with it. At least you’d die happily in his arms, feeling the warmth of his skin against your own, completely filled by his cock and marked by his teeth on your collarbone. That was all you could think. He was everything you had in mind.

The careless pounding sent you to bliss, triggering a long, yearning orgasm from you with a breathy, broken moan. Your walls clenched tightly around him and he growled, holding you close, his grip stronger than before. The frenzied pace of his hips slowed down eventually, as he came too, filling you up with his hot seed. You remained together, clinging to his broad figure and feeling his hot breath against the skin of your neck. Cleon held you in his arms, softening inside you. You turned to take his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you directly. There was an expression in his eyes you couldn’t deduce.

Maybe it was just the aftermath of what you just did. Maybe it was really a sadness coming from him, knowing he wouldn’t see you ever again. Maybe he did love you, even if this was just another clone.

“We need to go,” Cleon spoke softly, pulling out of you and setting your shaky legs on the floor once again. You took your dress and put it back on as he fixed his clothes as well.

“Where?” you asked, with a hint of hope.

But his eyes darkened anew, and you realized there was just a fantasy haunting your brain of Cleon suddenly stepping back on his plan and keeping his promises for you.

“Demerzel will take you,” he said, now coldly. He looked at you as if you were some kind of inferior being. “There is no way in the galaxy we should be together.”

This made you clench your jaw. “You’re a fucking selfish irony of a human,” you spat through your teeth.

He took his hand and cupped your neck with it, cutting you from breathing for a moment and he leaned to watch your face contour in slight pain and shock.

“Now, be careful with your words, queen,” he whispered against your lips, teasing a kiss that never came. “As your memories will be erased, I don’t think you could remember every single detail of you being here. Even less, about your precious realm… Or your life.”

“Do it. I told you, I do not care.”

He smirked when Demerzel’s familiar steps were heard, coming down the underground prison. It was time.

“I bet you would not.”

[spirkbitch]

i love that when you wonder where a fanfiction trope started, if you just guess Star Trek you’ll be right at least 90% of the time

[puckinghischier]

haven’t been doing great today and could really really use some comfort for one or all of the brothers.

they’re all so good at comfort in their own ways i feel like

like luke comes to mind first for me, because he’s such a sweetheart and just screams comfort to me. and he knows exactly what kind of comfort you need when. bad day? he’s ready and waiting with a warm blanket and your favorite movie. you’re sad? he’s yapping away and tossing jokes in every few minutes to make you laugh. you don’t know why you’re feeling off? he’s making an ice cream run and pulling out the board games to occupy your mind.

jack is a little louder with his comfort. he’s so finely tuned to you that he knows when you need comfort before you even do. he can tell by the punctuation you use in a text if you’re having a bad day, or the tiniest of inflection of your voice over the phone. so he puts together a distraction before you even get home. he calls your friends, organizing a whole girls night for you to come home to. of course, his buddies are going to come over too, bc he doesn’t want to be bored while you’re having fun, so the girls night eventually becomes just a weeknight get together, but you don’t even care. you didn’t know you were even stressed until you feel the relaxing nature of the room around you. snacks on the table, everyone (yes, even the guys because you roped them into it) wearing face masks. the guys are playing whatever the latest video game is while you and your friends take turns painting each others nails. you’re sitting on the floor, your back against the couch where jack sits, caged in-between his legs, loving how he seems to calm your storms before you even know it’s raining.

quinn is also quiet with his comfort, but he’s sneakier with it than luke. quinn knows how you are, not wanting to be bothered when you’re in a bad mood, but also too stubborn to ask for it when you want to be coddled. but like jack, he’s tuned into your whole being, so he’s figured out how to work the system that is you. it’ll start with him offering to order take out when you start getting overwhelmed with the idea of cooking dinner after a particularly rough day. then the offer of him going to get it, because he needs to ‘run by the nutrition store anyways’. and while he’s out, if he just so happens to stop by your favorite bakery for a large slice your favorite chocolate cake, well that’s purely coincidental. and when he plates your food as well as his and tells you to pick a movie, well it’s because you watch more tv than him, is all. but when he starts off sitting on the opposite end of the couch from you, only to gravitate towards you as the night goes on, inching closer and closer everytime he gets up and sits back down, well…maybe that’s on purpose. but asking to share your blanket was only because he was cold, too. and tucking you into his side was just for added warmth, duh. it’s not his fault if you cuddle back into him, asking him to lay down so you can lay on his chest so you can see the tv better. but when you thank him for such a relaxing, stress free evening before dozing off on his warm body, he basks in his triumph of another successful deception.

[skimmingmilk]

That sick fic ask just made me wonder how Tails reacted to seeing Sonic properly sick for the first time.

A/N: This may have gotten away from me a bit, but once the idea took hold I just kinda went with it ^^;; This was the fic I was hoping to have done earlier this week, but I'm happy to have it done now! Not quite a birthday or Valentine's Day fic, but has very wintery vibes, which still seems fitting for this time of year <3 Going to post this on AO3 in "Little Gestures" in just a bit, but wanted to have it connected to the ask that inspired it! Thank you, childofthemoon86! And by extension, the sick anon who initially requested the sick!Tails fic. This goes out to both of you!

no medicine like the hope of tomorrow

Sonic always woke up first.

On good days, the smell of hot porridge cooking over a fire would rouse Tails with its promise of a full belly. On better days, it was buttery pancakes frying alongside a sneaky slice of ham or bacon that beckoned him to open his eyes, twin tails already wagging with delight. On okay days, there were no smells that coaxed him into wakefulness, but a light nudge to his shoulder and two whistled notes tickling his ear. C'mon, Tails.

There were no bad days ever since meeting Sonic. Not even days when there wasn't any breakfast could be considered bad when Sonic was there.

But the point was, no matter what kind of day it was, Sonic was always ready and waiting to greet him first thing. Like the sunrise.

So when it was the ache of an empty belly that roused Tails one morning, there was the tiniest flicker of fear that it had all been a dream. That there'd never been good days or better days or even just okay days. Just another tally mark scratched into stone in a cave all alone.

But the fear didn't linger. It couldn't. Not when Sonic's scent enveloped him with warmth, wrapped around him even as he wiggled under his blanket. Traces of it also drifted through their campsite and, while it might not have been as strong as porridge or pancakes, it was more than enough to reassure him that their time together hadn't been imaginary. Tails was good at thinking up lots of things that didn't exist, but even he didn't think he could ever imagine someone as good as Sonic.

With a squeaky yawn, Tails stretched out along the length of his blanket. He scrubbed at his face with his paws, trying to wipe away the crustiness of sleep, then blinked at the brightness of daylight spilling into the mouth of the shallow cavern they'd camped out in. He squinted immediately. The sun was higher in the sky than usual.

Brow furrowing, Tails sat up, his blanket and Sonic's coat pooling in his lap. He glanced down at the latter. Lately Sonic had been giving it to him to sleep with during the night while it was so cold. Tails shivered, bundling his tails around himself as he slipped his arms through the coat backwards and looked around the campsite. 

Usually Sonic had a fire going to get them warmed up, even if there wasn't any breakfast to cook. The stones he'd laid in a circle around the firewood Sonic collected were still there, along with the charred wood, frosted over with sparkling dew that had frozen during the night. The grass just outside the cavern had a layer of frost coating it as well, only just starting to melt away during the sun's journey through the sky. 

Tails's gaze finally landed on the lump that was Sonic's blanket, his tails giving a jerky thump against his legs at the sight of him. A few blue quills poked out of the bunched up fabric and Tails finally picked up on the snuffly breathing that clouded the air near his nose. Tails's head tilted to one side, mouth parted in a surprised "o."

Sonic was still asleep!

Tails beat him to waking up!

He never beat Sonic at anything before!

Giggling to himself, Tails kept the coat tucked around him as he hopped up on his feet. The cold of the cavern floor seeped through his socks so he quickly padded over to Sonic, peering over his shoulder while the hedgehog slept huddled up on his side. Half his face was covered by the blanket, his fingers curled in it tightly like someone would rip it away if he let up his grip even a little.

Tails wiggled with anticipation. He crouched down and nudged Sonic's shoulder with his paw playfully. "Fwoo-woo!" 

Whistling was still hard for him, especially when it was so cold. But Tails smiled brightly as he made as close a sound to a whistle as he could. It usually got a laugh out of Sonic when he tried, or at the very least a head pat.

But Sonic didn't budge.

Undeterred, Tails pushed at him harder. "Fwoooo! Fwoo!"

A harsh cough burst from Sonic's chest and sent Tails tumbling backwards onto his rear. He sat back up, coat fallen away and paws pressed against the cold ground between his legs to brace himself while he stared at Sonic. Each expulsion of air rattled his ribs, like they were being knocked together from the force of it.

"Fwoo?" Tails's ears fell as Sonic kept coughing, his body heaving with each fruitless attempt to catch his breath.

When the coughing stopped, his breathing was ragged like he'd just outrun one hundred of Robotnik's fastest badniks. Tails pushed himself up on his knees and leaned over Sonic again. His expression was pinched now and he could see his mouth, the lines around his muzzle tight as if he was gritting his teeth. He sniffled, nose sounding extra stuffed up, and it made him swallow thickly when his breathing eventually evened out. One eye finally cracked open, a sliver of green peeking through to observe who was staring at him.

Tails smiled upon seeing that his friend was awake, his tails flicking up and down happily. But then Sonic coughed again, this time keeping his mouth clamped shut through the painful chest spasms. He curled up tightly, nearly turning into a ball as his knees tucked in close to his tummy. 

"Drink?" Tails signed, bringing his hand to his own muzzle like a cup, but Sonic didn't see it when his eyes squeezed shut through another bout of coughing.

Deciding water would definitely help a dry throat anyway, Tails scampered over to their backpack and rifled through it for Sonic's water bottle. He lifted it up triumphantly, only to gasp when it was much lighter than he expected. With a puzzled look, Tails shook the bottle. Nothing sloshed around inside. It was empty.

Sonic usually filled up the bottle before he went to sleep, just in case either of them got thirsty in the middle of the night. He must've forgotten. Tucking the water bottle in the crook of his arm, Tails flew back over to his blanket and plopped down atop it so he could pull on his shoes. He'd go get the water himself. He remembered passing a little brook when they were scouting out a good camp spot. It wasn't far at all.

And Sonic really sounded like he could use a drink.

Tails cut through the brush, his ears swiveling back and forth as he listened for the gentle trickle of water against stray pebbles and rocks. His tails gave a happy twirl as he rounded a thick tree trunk and spotted the small water source. Just the sight of the cool, fresh water flowing was enough to remind him he was pretty thirsty himself. Kneeling down, Tails lapped up the water straight from the current. Usually Sonic collected water and boiled it in a pot before drinking it, but Tails used to drink from rivers and ponds all the time. Just not the ocean, that was too salty and gross.

He drank until his tummy was full enough with water that it didn't feel so empty. That was the trick to being hungry sometimes. Just fill up all the space inside with water. 

Tails could feel it slosh around a bit as he sat back and wiped the damp fur of his muzzle with his arm. Then he resumed his mission. He unscrewed the cap for the water bottle and filled it up right to the top, so Sonic would have plenty to drink in case his tummy was empty, too.

When he got back to the cavern, Sonic still hadn't moved. Tails scampered over to him and dropped down to sit cross-legged right in front of his face. Sonic forced his eyes open, but he couldn't do much more than squint at him with a silent question. Tails held out the water bottle to him.

For a moment, he just stared at it uncomprehendingly, but the gears eventually began to turn and Sonic put himself into motion. He propped himself up with his arms, but his elbows wobbled like they were about to give out any second. And they did exactly that when Sonic tried to reach for the bottle. He landed hard on his shoulder with a wince and another harsh coughing fit as Tails scooched forward to try and help him sit up.

Sonic batted him away, successfully sitting up on his second try. He fumbled with the cap to the water bottle, swaying a bit like a palm tree in the breeze. It almost made Tails a little woozy watching him. When he got the cap off, Sonic guzzled the water greedily, his throat bobbing rapidly as he drank and drank even more than Tails did. He stopped only to gasp for air, panting in between sharp, pointed sniffs to clear his nose.

It didn't sound like it worked.

Tails took the water bottle back before it spilled, frowning when it felt like it was already less than half-full. They'd have to get some more. Now that Sonic was up though, maybe they could get some breakfast, too.

Looking up at him expectantly, Tails's ears and tails wilted when Sonic just laid back again, this time resting on his back with his face turned up. Now that he could get a better look at it, Tails could see that the peach fur of his muzzle was a little flushed. His eyes closed again and his hand pressed over his chest, rubbing a little like he was trying to soothe something that hurt. Tails's frown deepened. Was Sonic hurt?

He tapped Sonic's shoulder and his head lolled to the side to face him. Tails extended his index fingers of both hands and brought them together. "Hurt?" he asked in sign.

The dull glaze in his eyes cleared a bit. No, Sonic shook his head, coughed once into his fist, then held up one finger. In a minute, he seemed to be saying as he laid back with a raspy sigh.

Tails counted all the way to sixty twice, just to be sure, but Sonic didn't get up after a minute. He decided to refill the water bottle while he waited, but even though that also took longer than a minute, Sonic still hadn't moved by the time he returned to camp. In fact, Tails was pretty sure Sonic had fallen back asleep.

Tails's tummy complained with a loud, impatient growl. He was hungry.

Rifling through the backpack, he found the small cook pot and four paper packets of porridge mix. It fascinated Tails to watch as the dry, powdery ingredients would expand and turn into a completely different consistency just from adding water and heat. Sometimes they added fruits if they could find any, but in the middle of a frosty winter, they hadn't come across much. They had to buy most of their food in the towns and villages they passed through.

There were also two hot dogs still wrapped up in plastic, but no buns and no chili cans. And one box of macaroni and cheese was left, but other than that they were out of food. No ready-made snacks Tails could chew on while he waited for Sonic to get up.

Well, who said he had to wait? Tails could read. He could figure out how to make the food himself. He'd watched Sonic do it before.

Tails started with the oatmeal packets since they were the breakfast food. Sonic always made two at the same time, so Tails also grabbed two packets along with the pot and the bottled water. Little instructions were printed on the paper wrapping.

Empty packet in pot.

Bring ½ cup of water to a boil.

Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.

The instructions were probably for one packet each, so if he was cooking two, then he'd need to double everything. 1 cup of water and 10 minutes. That sounded right. 

Tails sighed as he shot the water bottle an unimpressed look. He was gonna have to fill it up again.

But his sloshy, grumbly tummy told him to just get it over with. Besides, wouldn't Sonic be so impressed with so proud of him when he managed to cook them breakfast all by himself?

Tails tore open the packets with his teeth and poured the powdery oats into the pot. Then he dumped the entire contents of the whole water bottle over them. There! One cup of water.

He peered into the pot. It was mostly water, with tiny oat flecks that made it look cloudy as they floated to the surface. That didn't look right. Tails frowned and reread the packet. Maybe it just needed to be heated up still. Maybe that would fix it. 

Sonic always started the campfire by rubbing two rocks against the wood really fast. Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, Tails tried imitating him. But he couldn't go fast enough. It was hard to keep the rocks from slipping out of his grasp whenever he sped up and no little sparks shot up into the wood.

Tails kept trying. 

But it didn't work.

And he was hungry…

He glanced at the pot with too much water and oat clumps. It looked anything but appetizing. Embarrassment and shame churned within his empty belly as he lifted up the pot and watched the flecks of oats slosh about in the water. His eyes wandered back over to where Sonic was still sleeping, his breathing heavy and laced with the occasional grunt, brow pinched with discomfort even when he wasn't awake to feel it. 

Tails couldn't feed him this, but he couldn't let it go to waste either.

He'd learned before he could even remember that food was food.

Tails shivered as he drank the cold, watery porridge mixture straight from the pot. His eyes squeezed shut with determination as he gulped it down until there was nothing left. Tails coughed, his fur bristled as each of his muscles tensed up, but at least his tummy felt fuller.

There were two more porridge packets in the backpack, but he didn't want to try again without a fire. He'd save them for when Sonic woke up for real, so he could make them the right way. 

Tails slowly trudged back to the brook to refill the water bottle a third time, his tummy too sloshy to fly around with. He placed the bottle close to Sonic, in case he started coughing again, then returned to his own bed to lay down. He pulled Sonic's coat over himself again, nestling in it and his blanket as the cold air and the cold porridge in his tummy conspired to make him feel even colder.

It was easier to warm up when Sonic kept them moving all the time, but sitting still in the mouth of the cool cavern as clouds began to roll in, Tails was reminded of the wispy memories of the previous winter, huddled up in his old cave back when there weren't quite so many scratch marks on the walls.

—

Freshly fallen snow covered the ground by the time Tails realized that Sonic was worse off than he'd first thought. Harsh, sticky coughing echoed off the icy walls around them, no matter how much water he drank. Eyebrows furrowed and both tails flicking about anxiously, Tails sat right next to where he'd been lying all day and kept watch. 

Panting heavily, Sonic's breath puffed out like a train's smokestacks, clouding the air in front of his flushed muzzle as he trembled, even though he was beneath two blankets. Tails had decided to share his with him when Sonic's chills got worse, despite the heat radiating from his body. It felt like he'd been sitting too close to the campfire for too long. 

Sonic always felt relatively warm whenever Tails pressed against him, whether it be because Sonic had to carry him out of danger or when it was so cold at night they'd huddle up together to share what warmth they had. But this heat wasn't like that at all. It was wrong.

Tails was pretty sure he'd figured out what was happening to Sonic, too. It was something that Tails himself had experienced more than a couple times so far in his little life. Sonic was coughing because his throat was probably all gummy; full of thick, icky mucous that slowly slipped down into his chest and made it hard to breathe. His stuffy nose probably clogged up his whole head, too, including his ears and the space behind his eyes. His limbs couldn't hold him up because it probably felt like all his muscles had shriveled up inside, everything achy and sore even if he hadn't been smacked around by a badnik or a bully at all. And he was shivering so bad because his body was too hot and too cold at the same time and it didn't know what to do.

Whenever Tails felt like that, he'd always felt so weak, he'd been afraid that if he went to sleep, he'd never wake up again.

Because that happened sometimes. He remembered a baby flicky fell out of its nest in the jungle one day. No one came for it, no matter how much it chirped, so Tails had very carefully scooped them up and brought them to his cave, just so it had somewhere safe to stay until they could fly away like the bigger flickies. Tails didn't have much, but he was willing to share what he did with the baby flicky. He thought they could be friends.

But the little birdy shivered all night and they didn't eat anything Tails tried to give them, even though he wrapped his tails around them to keep them warm and mashed up berries so they were small enough to fit in their tiny beak.

The next morning, the baby flicky didn't wake up.

It never woke up again.

Tails didn't understand why until he started traveling with Sonic. They'd been breaking the little animals out of badniks, Sonic bouncing from one to another in the blink of an eye. As Tails tried to keep up, he noticed one of the flickies couldn't lift themselves out of the wreckage. They were too weak, stuck for too long in their metal prison until they could barely keep their eyes open. Tails cupped them gently in his paws and carried them to Sonic, his new safe place, because surely Sonic would know what to do.

But when the flicky's eyes closed and its last breath left its body, Sonic only had one thing to say to him. "Gone," Sonic signed, fingers pulling at the air as he moved his hand away from his body. 

Tails frowned as he looked at the creature now cradled in Sonic's hands. He shook his head and pointed at it, trying to convey, What do you mean? It's right here.

Sonic's expression was unreadable as he gazed at the flicky. Then, more slowly and gently than Tails had ever seen Sonic do anything, he folded the bird's wings against their body and crouched down in the shade of a nearby tree. He dug out a small hole near the roots, then laid the flicky in it. Sonic watched and waited for a few minutes, two fingers pressed over the bird's pale blue breast. Finally, with a sharp exhale through his nose, Sonic covered the flicky with the dirt he'd just disturbed until each feather and the tip of their beak was buried.

He turned his back to it, then lowered to sit on his rump and stared out with that unreadable look still etched into his face. Out at the faded hills ahead of them, where the grass was beginning to yellow the closer inland they traveled and the colder it got. He patted the ground beside him, so Tails shuffled over to sit.

In the dirt, Sonic wrote with his finger. Sometimes things don't wake up again. A big part of them is gone and it can't come back.

Like the baby flicky from before and the older flicky now. Tails drew a flicky in the dirt and pointed at it. He didn't have to wonder if Sonic knew what he was asking.

Not just flickies. He wrote. Everything.

Tails touched his own chest, then pointed at Sonic.

Sonic just swiped his finger in a straight line underneath it. Everything.

Tails could believe that when he thought about how weak the two flickies had been, barely able to lift their own heads or breathe. He could believe it when he remembered how weak he'd felt every time he'd been sick on his own or every time the bullies beat him up so bad that he couldn't move, scared that he'd have no way to get food or water for days.

But Tails couldn't believe someone like Sonic could ever feel that weak.

At least, not until that winter day, when each breath physically pained him and he couldn't even open his eyes. He mumbled a little incoherently, nothing that sounded like words, just croaky grunts and whimpers that continued even in his sleep. But as bad as they made him feel, Tails preferred the coughing fits and the grunts and whines to the stillness and the quiet when it all stopped.

It was too still and too quiet and Sonic wasn't either of those things, even without saying a word.

Tails broke up their last two uncooked hot dogs into bite-sized pieces. Even though they were cold, they were better than nothing and Sonic needed to eat. In Tails's experience, food was always the best way to stop from feeling so shaky and weak. So he pushed the pieces against Sonic's mouth until he chewed, his heart shivering as he thought about pushing mushy berries into a flicky's tiny beak.

But Sonic swallowed each bite, grimacing a bit at the cold, rubbery texture. Tails couldn't help nibbling on a few either. He preferred them warm, in a soft bun and smothered with sauce that made his tummy growl just at the memory of it, but Tails had eaten worse. The not-quite-porridge from earlier in the day was definitely lower on his list of things he'd rather eat.

 When the hot dog pieces were gone, Sonic's stomach still churned with hunger. He tossed and turned weakly, unable to get comfortable when everything hurt and hunger ate away at his insides and his skin burned like he was on fire. Tails pressed a handful of snow against Sonic's brow, but it melted fast and dripped down into his quills, frosting over on the tips. It only made his shivering worse.

Sonic needed to eat. He needed something more than two cold hot dogs, porridge powder, and a box of hard noodles.

There was a town a few miles away from where they were staying. They'd stopped in it a couple times so far while exploring the area surrounding the Chemical Plant Zone. It had an arcade, a library, and a diner that Sonic took them to when he had gold rings and paper notes to spare. He kept them in the wallet tucked away in one of the pockets of his backpack, but sometimes when Tails stole a peek inside and there wouldn't be anything there. They foraged for food on those days, before the winter frost killed most of what grew in the area, or Sonic would disappear for a couple of hours, only to come back with a wallet nearly full to bursting and a grin to match.

Tails fished the wallet out of the backpack. No gold rings or paper notes were hidden within its folds. He was on his own.

Luckily, Tails hadn't forgotten how to get food on his own. It was risky and he'd avoid it if he could, but this was for Sonic. Sonic did so much for him and shared every bit of food he scrounged up with him, even when he didn't have to.

The very least Tails could do was try.

Sonic needed to eat.

Tails tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose until tired and bleary eyes opened, too tired to even be very mad, though there was the barest glint of annoyance that glimmered dully behind the film of sick. Normally it was enough to get Tails to back off, ears flat and tails tucked around his legs apologetically, but in this moment, seeing that small sign of life was a relief. Tails grabbed onto Sonic's wrist and lifted it up until the red watch strapped to it was in the hedgehog's line of sight. Tongue poking out, Tails guessed at how long it would take him to get to town and back without Sonic's speed. To be on the safe side, he tapped the glass over the hour hand twice.

Sonic's eyes just closed on another, close-mouthed cough. Tails shook his limp wrist to get his attention again, this time pointing to the watch before holding up two fingers. Maybe Sonic couldn't see the watch hands when his eyes were so squinty. His fingers might be easier for him to read. I'll be back in two hours, okay?

Spasms wracked Sonic's chest as he tried to suppress the urge to cough. He tugged his wrist out of Tails's hold and rolled onto his side away from him just in time for his body to heave under the exhaustive force of his wet coughing. Tails rubbed his own chest in quiet sympathy, slowly backing away as the coughing tapered off on a wispy wheeze.

Two hours. He'd be back with food in two hours.

The sky was already darkening when he set out for town. Tails's shoes sank down into the freshly fallen snow as he scampered out of the cave. His trail of little fox footprints was a short-lived one, however, when he quickly decided it would be faster to fly and the falling snow began to slowly fill in the divots he'd left behind.

—

The street lamps spread their yellow light over the snowy sidewalk, their warmth an illusion while fat snowflakes still floated through the air. Tails kept to the outside of their glowing halos, slinking through the shadows like he was back in the village of Emerald Hill Zone. All hope of finding and bringing back food relied on his ability to stay out of sight. His ears remained perked, listening hard to his surroundings; everything muffled by the quiet winter snow.

Very few people ventured out into the streets of the small town after dark. The diner one of the only buildings with the lights still on, aside from the gambling hall and bar across the road. Bars sometimes served food, but Tails would save that in his back pocket in case he came up empty-handed at the diner.

The red, neon glow from the diner's sign reflected off the white snow on the sidewalk, though half of the letters were blacked out. Instead of "RESTAURANT" the illuminated letters spelled out an ominous "RETURN." Tails boldly pressed forward, ducking along the side of the diner. 

He could smell the cooking grease through the vents as he crept around to the back of the building. Mouth watering, Tails swallowed and puffed up his cheeks with determination. He wasn't going to make a mistake just because he was distracted by being hungry. This was for Sonic.

Light from the kitchen window illuminated a small square against the snow-covered ground, the shadowy shape of a dumpster pressed against the paint-peeled wall just beyond it and a door. Tails's ears twitched, his breath held tight in his chest as the sounds of kitchen pots and pans clattered just on the other side of the window. He inched his way towards the dumpster. He didn't see a lock on it, which meant the owners probably didn't expect that people would go rifling through it for scraps. Hopefully that meant they wouldn't be waiting for him with sharpened knives and pots of boiling oil to chase him away into the night.

The back door flew open with a bang as it struck the worn siding wall. Tails skittered back around the corner with a quick whirl of his tails, only daring to peek when he heard something clanging against the dumpster. A gangly aardvark in a grease-stained apron grunted as he hefted a bag of trash over the edge of it. He let the lid fall shut with another clang that echoed through the snowy alley, then leaned against the wall with a sigh and a shiver. He fiddled with something in his apron pocket, removing a carton of cigarettes. He also pulled out a small, silver lighter.

Tails huffed, holding up his hands to his mouth to warm them while he waited and watched the aardvark shake out a single cigarette. With a snap of his lighter, he lit the end of the cigarette and took a long drag from it. As the acrid smoke wafted into the air, Tails's nose scrunched up and he stuck his tongue out. It was almost as bad as the chemical plant's smell. 

But the tiny flame that flicked to life with a simple click compelled him to linger, drawn to it like a moth, but one that was too clever to let itself be burned.

New mission objective: get food for Sonic and get the lighter so he could make a fire at their campsite. 

Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, Tails scraped some snow from the ground and packed it up into a ball. He tested the weight in his palm, satisfied with the density as he held it up to his face and closed one eye. Peering around the corner of the building, Tails set the aardvark in his line of sight.

As he took another puff from his cigarette, the fingers of his other hand repeatedly opened and closed the top of the lighter with a repetitive click-click. Tails crouched and twirled his tails to warm them up. Ready, aim…

The snowball smacked against the hand holding the lighter, knocking it from the aardvark's grasp and into the snow. "What the—?"

The aardvark whirled in the direction where the snowball had come from, tromping angrily through the snow to catch the perpetrator, but Tails had already flown up onto the roof. He quickly dropped down while the aardvark's back was to him, scooping up the lighter from where it fell, then flew back up to hide atop the diner. Crouched low on his belly to remain unseen, Tails kept his mouth clamped shut to keep from breathing too hard. His sharp eyes followed the aardvark as he paced the ground below, scratching his head when there was no sign of anyone save for a few footprints.

"Damn kids…" the aardvark muttered, took one more puff, then put out his cigarette against the wall.

He shuffled back to retrieve his lighter, huffing and grunting as he dug through the snow in search of it. But his hands were bare and chilled as they felt around for wherever it might've fallen, dexterity dwindling the longer he looked for it. With a resigned groan, he abandoned his search and headed back into the diner. The kitchen door closed with a heavy thud behind him.

Tails counted for a full minute before he gently eased himself back down. His hands trembled as he clutched the lighter between them, heart beating in triple speed while he watched the door warily. When it didn't reopen, he tucked the lighter into his shoe to free up his hands, then scrambled to climb up the side of the dumpster.

The lid was heavy, but with the right leverage Tails was able to force it open. He sucked in a deep breath through his mouth and held it as the odor of old food wafted up into the cold air. Dumpsters smelled worse when it was hot out, but Tails still didn't want to take any chances of getting a big whiff of something particularly rank as he leaned in.

He ribbed open the garbage bag on top, whatever food inside it likely the freshest he'd be able to fish out. There were a lot of wet and slimy things to sift through. Sauces and juices and other questionable liquids seeped into most of the scraps that were tossed into the bag, a soup of mostly unsalvageable food waste. The edge of the dumpster dug into his belly as he leaned in, his tails keeping him semi-aloft as he pushed around mushy chunks of half-eaten meatloaf, bits of burger, and pieces of pancakes soaked through with sticky syrup.

Tails was on the search for something more solid and not so mushy, and found it in some very lucky fries sheltered by a wilted cabbage leaf. They were a little extra crispy and burnt on the ends, but still soft enough to eat. He collected as many as he could, cradling them in his palm like they were as precious as gold nuggets. There was a paper cup thrown in on top of some of the other bags, so Tails used that as a container for his small haul.

He hopped out of the dumpster to set the cup down, freeing up his hands to search for more food. Dusting his gloves off, Tails straightened up with a satisfied smile and looked right into a stranger's face. 

His heart stopped. Every inch of him froze in place as he was caught in the stunned stare of an alpaca mobian just a few feet away.

She stood in the yellow light of a streetlamp, just barely bleeding in between the buildings. But it was enough for her to see the shape of a small child climb out of a diner's dumpster with a cup of unwanted french fries from someone else's plate. Tails's eyes darted to the cup at his feet, then back at the alpaca's face, his breath quickly clouding the air in front of him as his instincts screamed at him to run.

It wasn't until she took a step towards him that he scooped it back up and stumbled away from her. His tails tangled up with one another, fighting over whether to twine together to look like one or spin fast enough for him to fly far, far away.

"Wait—" the alpaca called out, thinking twice about taking another step towards him. "It's okay. You're not in trouble."

A lie. It was always trouble if someone found him. Even if the food in dumpsters would only go to waste, in everyone's mind it was even more of a waste if their scraps went towards feeding him. He wasn't even worth their garbage.

A plastic bag crinkled in the stillness of the winter night, offered to him by the outstretched arm of a stranger and stopped Tails in his tracks. Sonic had offered him food. Food that was fresh and warm and filled with flavors he'd never known before. One person had thought he deserved more than other people's trash. One person went out of his way to make sure he got it.

"Here," the alpaca said. "If you're hungry, you can have this. My leftovers."

Tails watched the bag sway slightly as it was held up and away from her body. He could make out the shapes of two styrofoam containers inside it. One was a bit boxy, while the other looked like an extra wide cup. Sometimes Sonic got containers like those on the days where they ate food from a restaurant, when it was something that could be saved for later.

"It's not much. Just half a tuna melt and some tomato soup," the alpaca continued, still holding the plastic bag out. "It might not be piping hot, but it'll be warmer than those fries you've got there."

Tails tightened his grip on the cup of fries he'd collected, but his eyes remained fixed on the offered bag and the tempting aroma wafting from it. Whatever was inside that bag would probably be better for Sonic than anything he could dig out of the garbage. Not to mention the thought of giving garbage to Sonic of all people, like he didn't deserve better than that…

Sonic deserved the best.

But even though Tails wanted nothing more in that moment than to give him that, he was pinned in place by the alpaca's soft stare. Knees locked. Chest tight. Teetering just on the edge of taking flight.

The alpaca seemed to realize this, so she crouched down and set the bag on the ground. The plastic crinkled as it settled, sitting harmlessly in the snow while she took several steps back. 

"It's okay. Things have been tough for a lot of people around here ever since the old chemical plant got bought out and let everyone go," she told him. "Money and food… it's all been hard to come by. So, I get it. Go ahead. Take what you need."

She continued to back away until she was back on the sidewalk, no longer a looming threat between the back of the diner and the building beside it. She smiled in the halo of the lamplight and lifted her hand in a slight wave. Her boots crunched through the snow as she walked away, disappearing into the quiet winter night without another word.

Just leaving the lone plastic bag on the ground.

His ears flicked about as his nerves seized up, but Tails slowly crept towards the food. His nose twitched as the savory smells reached him through their containers, the hearty tomato standing out most of all. It wasn't quite like the chili Sonic smothered their hot dogs with whenever he had a chance, but it was close enough that Tails thought he might still like it.

And if that lady wasn't lying—if this had been food she meant to eat later—then it couldn't be bad to eat. Couldn't be a trick or a trap. She would've had to plan that, and she'd looked just as surprised to see him behind the diner as he'd been to see her.

Puffing out his chest, Tails suddenly surged forward and snatched the bag. In a whirl, he flew up and away from the diner, only pausing on the roof of a nearby building to open the bag and inspect its contents. It was half a sandwich and a cup of soup, just like she'd said. The bread was lightly toasted and some melted cheese was starting to congeal along the edge of the sandwich from the cold, but it was fresher than anything he'd find in a dumpster.

Tails packed it all up again and set his sights on the edge of town before he took flight once more through the snowy sky.

His little tails spun as fast as he could make them go, bobbing precariously in the air as he followed the path deeper into the forest. The food wasn't that heavy, but it was a long way to fly while carrying something, even if carrying Sonic around was making him a little bit stronger each time. At least Tails thought so, and that was what Sonic said, so it must've been true. 

As he came across the familiar, but now-frozen brook, Tails dropped down to his feet to give his tails a bit of a break. He traveled a bit slower through the brush in the dark, poked and prodded by the points of dead branches that he couldn't see too clearly, all while doing his best to protect the bag of food from being torn open by them.

When he finally wriggled free of them, close to the shelter of their cabin, Tails nearly broke into a run.

But something was lying in the snow just ahead of him.

Tails squinted at it in the dark, snowflakes impeding his vision as they caught on his lashes. But a dark, sharp shape cut through the white powder that looked an awful lot like…

Sonic.

The bag of food smacked against the snow when the handles slipped from his grasp, forgotten as Tails scrambled over to the misshapen lump lying face down in the middle of the path. The snow hadn't buried him completely, but it covered him enough that he had to have been lying there for at least a little while. Heedless of getting pricked this time around, Tails dug his paws through the snow drift to clear it away as quickly as he could from Sonic's quills.

Once freed, Tails rolled him over onto his back. He was stiff and so cold, his fever momentarily drowned out by the snow. His eyes were closed, but his chest still shuddered with each exhale. 

Still breathing. Not gone.

With a frantic surge of energy, Tails hefted Sonic up under the arms and dragged him through the snow, heading back towards their cavern. He didn't know why Sonic had tried to leave the shelter, but now that Tails had returned with the lighter and some food, he'd make sure he'd get better. Morning couldn't come without Sonic.

When they got back inside, Tails laid Sonic down on his bed, then draped his coat and both blankets back over his body. Fishing the lighter out of his shoe, Tails spun the little wheel with his thumb until a tiny flame came to life in his hands. He held it up to the charred remains of their old campfire, tired embers slowly reigniting and warming the icy little cave. 

Though his eyes were still closed, Sonic turned towards the small fire, its warmth still enough to permeate the layers he was bundled under. Tails watched him for a good minute, his heart beating just as fast as when he'd stolen the lighter from the aardvark at the diner or when he thought the alpaca might try to chase him down. Which reminded him; the food.

While Sonic warmed up, Tails darted back out to retrieve the bag of food. His cup of fries were stashed away inside it with the soup and sandwich, set aside as he unpacked everything else beside the hedgehog. His gloves were dirty from the dumpster, so he took them off and left them at the mouth of the cave so the lingering odor wouldn't invade their sleeping space too much. Then he settled in and popped open the lid to the soup first, gentle as he carried it over to Sonic's face. His nose was too stuffed up to smell it properly, unaware that the food was even there, so Tails crawled behind him and pushed his head up until it was propped up against his shoulder. Green eyes finally fluttered open, chest hitching from the change in position.

Sonic glanced down as the soup container was pressed into his hands, Tails struggling to keep both of them balanced while supporting his weight. Though his fingers were clumsy and stiff, Sonic eventually secured his grip on it while Tails guided it to his muzzle. The broth sloshed against his mouth when Tails tried tipping it towards him, but as soon as the taste registered, Sonic started to drink it down with desperate gulps. It was liquidy enough that he could, smooth and easy on his throat. 

Tails made sure he drank every drop, only pulling away when the cup was empty. Sonic coughed a bit as the acidity from the tomato tickled his throat, but it quieted when Tails brought him the sandwich next. His nose scrunched a bit as he chewed, like he couldn't tell what the flavor was, but hunger outweighed any reservations he might've had and he ate more than half of it before he curled up and away from the idea of food.

Tails scarfed down what remained of the tuna melt along with each of the fries in his cup, licking the salt and grease from his fingertips when they were all gone. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye immediately drew his attention back to Sonic. He'd rolled onto his side with some effort, facing Tails and the campfire. A deep frown etched across his brow as he still shivered despite the layers of blankets and the firelight flickering across his face. One arm wiggled free from the blankets, reaching out across the cave floor. His palm patted the ground, fingers grasping to hold onto something.

A deep sigh melted the tension from his body when Tails's fingers curled around Sonic's. The kit sat close, watching as the frown lines finally faded away. His muzzle was still flushed and his body still wracked with tremors, but his face slowly went slack with sleep as long as he held onto his hand.

Their hands stayed connected as Tails snuggled up against Sonic's front, his tails curling over his hip to give him a little extra warmth. Sonic's body still radiated too much heat, but it was nice to cuddle against after being out in the cold for so long. And as Tails's thicker fur surrounded the hedgehog, his shivering ceased as he settled beside him with another softer sigh.

He laid one ear against Sonic's chest, listening to the faint, wispy breaths that made it rise and fall. In his own chest, a gentle rumble built up. Whenever he felt sick, sometimes purring helped. So he purred; hard enough for Sonic to feel it through the layers tucked around him and loud enough for him to hear it over the rattling in his lungs. Though he'd been determined to watch Sonic all night, to make sure he'd wake up in the morning, Tails couldn't fight the squeaky yawn that forced his jaw open or the way the combined warmth of Sonic and the fire made his heavy eyelids droop closed. But even as Tails sank deep into his own slumber, the soft vibrations continued, soothing both himself and Sonic long into the night.

And in the morning, there would be a pot of porridge cooking over their fire and the smell would slowly rouse him from a bed that smelled like Sonic. But before he'd have a chance to fully wake, there'd be a light tap on his shoulder and two soft notes whistled against his ear, beckoning him out of the dark. C'mon, Tails.

And when Tails opened his eyes, the sun would be up, shining with a smile just for him. 

And it would be a good day.

[gothamite-rambler]

Red Robin (calmly untying his bindings): You made a big mistake. I just want you to know that.

Joker (in a mocking tone): That's doubtful, seeing as Batman isn't coming for you, little Robin.

Red Robin (deadpan): Joker, you'll be on the ground with many broken bones before he can step one foot into this building.

Joker (raising his metal bat): If you’re referring to the other rats making it here in time, then I have bad news for you!

Red Robin grabbed the bat before it could make contact, having successfully undone his bindings. He swept his feet underneath the Joker’s legs, sending the clown tripping to the ground. Red Robin picked the bat up and examined it with an indifferent expression.

Red Robin: Tsk, tsk, Joker. Your knot skills have never been the best. Shame, I do wish you’d let me finish talking before I untied myself. But what I was saying is, Batman isn’t who you should fear at the moment. Nightwing, Red Hood, Spoiler, Orphan, and Signal can’t hold me back, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of crap this past year.

With that, Red Robin raised the bat and struck down on Joker's right knee first.

Red Robin: I forgot it was Mom’s birthday because I had to deal with a man who carries a flamethrower and prides himself on being an arsonist. I’ve been putting up with a jerk at work who I can't punch, and lately, I’ve had this weird, tingly pain from when you froze me and tried to auction me off to the highest bidder. But that’s okay; you’re going to be my punching bag for the next twenty minutes.

A malicious smirk spread across Red Robin’s face as he struck Joker in his left knee next. Twenty minutes later, Red Robin left the building, whistling happily and pointing to the entrance for the group to come in and apprehend the Joker.

Signal quickly stepped away, his jaw dropped in shock, as Red Hood’s laughter echoed in the distance.

Signal: What the hell did you do to him?

Red Robin (resting against the building wall): That’s for God and me to know, but pretending he was Kylar from work definitely helped me not hold back.

Signal (impress, but slightly terrified): I forgot how hardcore you are, and I’m sorry for that.

Red Robin: It’s okay. Where’s Batman?

Signal: He got held up. You’re lucky he isn’t here yet.

Red Robin shrugged and closed his eyes as he waited for the others. Nightwing and Red Hood emerged, dragging the Joker out while Orphan approached Red Robin.

Orphan (worried): You intended to… let him live, right?

Red Robin: Oh yes, I want him to live and suffer. Death is too good for him.

Orphan shrugged, nodding in agreement.

[junih0ps]

blue lock headcanons with little to no explanation (pt. 1?) ᐢ..ᐢ

...made by junih0ps

a/n: currently in the middle of my blue lock obsession so here's this LOL.. make sure to check out more of my works! Let me know if you guys want a part two.

VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

contains: Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Rensuke Kunigami, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Sae Itoshi, and Michael Kaiser

..

Isagi Yoichi

probably grew up with a lot of friends because in his flashbacks he was okay with working with other people

this definitely backfired with his ego that he was born with but had to learn to discard for teamwork

despite that, he definitely did good in school and kept up his grades

teachers liked him and complimented his work ethic and ability to work with other people

even though he grew up with a lot of friends and made friends easily, he preferred a smaller friend group of people in high school.

he's still willing to make friends with or talk to just about anybody though.

a bit of a pushover when it comes to soccer before blue lock, he wants to be the best so he'll listen to anyone he thinks has authority in soccer. (that's why he was so willing to destroy his ego and work as a team)

NOT a pushover in any other way though, he's just nice.

I think he was still a bit judgmental because he pointed out things other people did in blue lock

he was probably a bit picky with his friends

no love life.

it's not like other people didn't get crushes on him, he was in a sports team after all, but he simply didn't gain a crush on anybody

after blue lock's training though? he probably doesn't think about love at all. he has one goal, to be the best striker in the world.

for that reason, if he did ever have a love life he would have had to know them before he went to blue lock

Meguru Bachira

he was really lonely as a kid so he has the tendency to talk a lot and fast

he can't control it so when people tell him to "slow down" he doesn't even realize he's been doing it

he spends a lot of time at home when he's not playing soccer. He absent mindedly scrolls because he doesn't know what else to do with his time

he's not the best student but he gets his work in on time.

he doesn't have a lot of friends so he glides through friendships to talk to rather than hangout with

he isn't shy and is open about what he wants

he holds back with his mom though, he doesn't want to worry her

being lonely is something he thought about a lot as a kid, but now that he's in high school he's just kind of used to it (poor baby :[)

maladaptive daydreamer, definitely!

no love life as well

if you did try to start up something romantic with bachira it would be really easy, but he could also be really oblivious because romance isn't a big deal for him.

he cares more about being platonically lonely, romance doesn't really cross his mind.

even after blue lock, I don't think he'd mind if he has a partner.

Hyoma Chigiri

he had a big friend group for being athletic, but after his accident he socially isolated himself.

he grew up as an athletic kid and would often climb trees, monkey bars, you name it. His mom and sister scolded him a lot for it.

pretty good in school, turned in his work in time.

he wasn't really involved in school though so he was in regular classes.

his sister coddled him after his accident and was very proud of his achievements, she wanted to encourage him because he would beat himself up over little things.

she probably knew about the blue lock program and wanted chigiri to be involved, hyped him up!

was popular romantically for his gorgeous hair and athletic ability LOL

he was never really interested in romance though

I think for chigiri if he was romantically involved, it'd have to be with someone he knew very well. maybe someone who helped him get through his hard times.

idk though I just can't imagine him in a relationship

sassy (not overly sassy though)

pretty picky with the people he's friends with, he doesn't mind talking to people who aren't his friends though.

after blue lock his friend group from high school was non-existent to him (if there was anyone still hanging around after he socially isolated himself, that is)

Rin Itoshi

hello handsome

he grew up pretty popular, he kept a small friend group though.

never really had to talk to anyone first, he was a magnet

his athletic ability kept him a first pick in gym class

teachers loved him, he was a great student.

probably in some advanced and ap classes

he loved sae and sae was his role model

after sae threw him aside in his view, he stopped participating in school though

he had a hard time keeping himself from feeling overwhelmed in school and eventually just stopped doing his work

this concerned a lot of teachers but they gave up after he ignored their pep talks

when he started socially isolating himself, his friends were worried but he would just ignore them

this would cause a lot of tension with his friends who were popular, his reputation went down very VERY fast.

he eventually just stopped participating in school or friendships overall and left for blue lock with one goal in mind

love was barely a thing for rin before blue lock, after blue lock it just didn't exist. he was probably popular romantically in school, though.

no friends after blue lock. being the best is all that matters to him, hates being tied to people.

better hope nobody tried to stick by, they're just going to get their feelings hurt when he throws them away. ouch

Rensuke Kunigami

grew up with a lot of friends and loved his parents to death!

his parents were very proud of him and encouraged his dreams

he was an athletic child too, but not to the extent of chigiri.

would play soccer with other kids in his neighborhood

he was very nice but not a pushover

he included people and was very honest with his teachers

(it startled his elementary school teachers when he confessed to his little mistakes instead of lying)

love? loves everyone! (oblivious)

was popular romantically and platonically

nothing really changed from childhood up until blue lock

after blue lock... he was just a mess, a machine made for soccer

it startled his parents, and they were incredibly mad at ego. they think he's changed in a bad way

his friends before blue lock have been left in the dust. they miss him

if they tried contacting him they'd either be ignored or asked "who are you?"

ugh this hurts to write :(

romantically, you'd have to be very strong to pull through his new attitude and genuinely love him no matter how he changes to stick around.

Seishiro Nagi

other kids did try to get close to him, but gave up after a while

his athletic ability didn't really come out of nowhere, he did like being in sports as a child

but his parents would always overpromise and underachieve, and he wasn't allowed to go out alone

like for example they'd promise they could all go to the park and then they'd say "sorry, we're busy" or "no, we're tired from working"

so at some point he just learned to take comfort in his electronics

when he did try to make friends they just wouldn't understand his situation so he gave up early on

omg he's such a tired homebody

he's so real tbh

probably plays LoL and valorant

has discord and an online friend group in high school

his parents are very rich and don't care what he does when he grows up

love? what's that?

doesn't really know how to take care of himself

when it came to reo, he relied on reo a lot for simple tasks because reo would always be willing to fulfill them

he liked seeing someone go out of their way for him

during blue lock he stopped using discord, no time for it

after blue lock he played video games a lot less, he found a passion

if he did have a romantic partner they'd have to be good with individuality

Reo Mikage

he's kind of a jerk to be honest, like not in a bad way but "why should i have to try if i want something?" kind of way

just spoiled but he's still nice

popular romantically and platonically

had a huge friend group growing up and still friends with most of them in high school

obviously, he works hard to get what his parents can't get him

he's pretty close with the staff in the mansion

he doesn't complain about them so most of them haven't been switched out from childhood to adolescence.

most of them are old so they're practically his other set of parents

nagi's close with some of the staff like the driver and chef.

nagi has spoken to reo's personal nanny once or twice when he comes over

reo doesn't need a nanny after he's grown up but he's grown attached to the old lady so he's letting her keep her job

open to romance, probably had a few ex girlfriends here and there.

some of them are pretty irritating and clinging on to him because he has a lot of money.

after blue lock, he's still open to relationships but he's pretty casual about them.

he's not a womanizer though! he just has the "if it gets to marriage, it does. If it doesn't end in marriage, that's fine too" dating mentality

he's still pretty serious about his relationships though

he's also pretty materialistic

Sae Itoshi

tough cookie

hot-headed kid, obviously

he grew up with a small friend group

its not like people didn't like him, he was practically a people magnet. he was just picky about who he spoke to or wanted to be friends with.

his friend group was male, he just didn't talk to the opposite gender a lot there isn't a bad intention behind it though

when he did initiate conversations (very rarely) he was blunt and that drove people off

as a kid, he doesn't care about living to other people's expectations, he just wants to be the best striker.

he loved rin, even now he doesn't know why rin's mad at him. he thinks he's just going through a phase and will go back to normal soon.

when he went to spain he was bullied by his teammates and coaches for his dream to be the best striker, soon enough he was driven to be okay with being a midfielder

when he was insulting sendou about not being serious about soccer, he was sort of projecting. I say this because I think sae believes he's given up on being serious about soccer and taken a back seat as a midfielder

do you guys think leonardo luna was the reason behind his dream being crushed.. like the way he was talking to rin about crushing his dream was very suspicious

he's really casual about dating, doesn't want anything serious. he's not a virgin either based on the way the official blue lock lore describes him having a butt fetish LOL

you HAVE to be really strong to date sae, he could go up to months without talking to you and not care how you feel about it. be really strong about individuality and have something to keep you busy

like I said before, it won't last long either. he's not really a womanizer, he just dates once in a blue moon and breaks up with them after he's bored.

Michael Kaiser

no friends, no lovers, no family, nada

well he did have his father but he doesn't count to be honest

his birthday falls on Christmas so when he was a kid he often found himself praying his mom would come back, his life would be easier, and that someone would love him.

smokes

at some point he started having flings to try and feel something out of his loneliness

we all know he's manipulative, but I think if it came to a long-term relationship it'd go farther than the extent Ness went through.

It'd go to the point he'd be very possessive and have daily arguments with them, and at some points he wouldn't talk to them for large lengths of time

I fear he'd be physically abusive as well and then beat himself up for it.. he's just like his father

he knows he's just like his father too, and he hates himself for it

um this took a very relationship focused turn so let's turn it back

soccer is his first love so he prioritizes it over his well-being

therapy? what's that? REFUSES therapy, in fact.

he knows he's messed up in the head though

undiagnosed narcissistic personality disorder

will never get through anything in his life unless he gets therapy

this one just made me sad to be honest :(

~~~

[trevination]

you’ve got our love

by staygoldpbj

He cleared his throat shakily. “Soda?” “What’s up?” Pony felt like his stomach was flipping inside out. “You can’t tell Darry what ‘m ‘bout tell you.” Soda blinked. “You get a girl knocked up?”

Pony doesn’t know how to tell Soda he’s gay. He also doesn’t know how to live with this secret in his chest.

my first posted outsiders fic <3 hurt/comfort curtis brother and gay ponyboy enjoyers come get ur food!!

[purplepirate123]

All of Me; All of You UPDATE 12/24/2024

All of Me; All of You Updates:

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!!! While late, chapter 17 is here just in time for Chriastmas. ENJOY!

- Read the first side-story, "Houseplant," HERE!

- Read the SECOND side-story, "Office," HERE! (Warning, story contains 18+ content)

The "facelift" for this story is COMPLETE! If you read the chapters as they came out, I reccomend you go back and re-read, as there are lots of added scenes and new edits to enjoy. After all, who doesn't love Kaiba Seto losing his goddamn mind over Kisara?

Chapter 18 will be up hopefully early in the new year, and remember to watch for more side stories along with updates from my other series including DOMINO CITY SEVEN and A FUTURE WITH YOU, both co-written with my friend Julia White(Vavavarino)!

Thanks for reading!!!

All of Me; All of You:

Seven years after the tragedy that ended the game of Duel Monsters forever and destroyed nearly everything he'd worked for, Kaiba is trying to put his life back together. For the most part, he'd say he's doing okay: staying sober, rebuilding his company, being frugal (the new Porsche was EARNED, thank you very much). He doesn't even realize he's lonely until Mokuba, now enrolled in med school in the US with a partner and life of his own, hires a house cleaner for him: a silver-haired, blue-eyed American woman named Kisara. Between her looks, her name and her smile, she manages to throw everything he thought he knew about what happened all those years ago into question (because really it was all the cocaine talking, right? Right??).

Be it fate or coincidence, he's inevitably drawn to her and the two become friends. But if he falls for this smart, funny, practical-to-a-fault woman who's face has haunted his dreams for decades, would she love him back? And if she does, can he keep her safe from the monsters of his past?

[leapingbadger]

The Final Gift

Summary: The Batch celebrate their first Life Day since settling on Pabu. Omega is surprised by a gift from her brothers.

The common room was warm with the glow of Pabu’s nightly light display. It was their first Life Day Celebration since they had settled on Pabu and Hunter had insisted that Echo join them. It was rare for Omega and all her four brothers to be together for an extended period of time, these days. Echo’s mission took him to far flung planets and his visit had become brief over the last few months.

The tree in the corner of the room, brought by Echo from a distant, snow-covered mood, was strung with golden lights, offering a cozy warmth that was sometimes lacking in their sparsely decorated home. As it was their first Life Day tree, they hadn’t been sure how to decorate it. Omega had gathered blossoms from the weeping maya tree and tucked the pink flowers sporadically in between the green branches.

Wrecker had concocted a recipe similar to her favorite, Mantell Mix. They had sat on the floor at the base of the tree for hours, carefully stringing the purple and pink pieces to wrap around the branches. Of course, some of the mix found its way into their stomachs, but that was just payment for all the hard work, Omega thought with a smile.

She heard low murmurs outside as her brothers cleaned up from the feast Wrecker had cooked for them. Even Echo, who was the fussiest eater Omega had ever met, had devoured the fish, fruit, vegetables and desserts that had covered the table.

Omega sighed as she relaxed into the soft couch, scratching Batcher on the back of the head as she slept, her long pink tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.

She smiled down at the soft ragdoll Hunter had awkwardly handed her that morning. She had wavy, yellow yarn hair, brown button eyes and a thread mouth turned up into a wide smile.

“I saw it at the market…thought you’d…made me think of… I hope you like it.” He said with a smile, handing the doll over.

“I love her! Thank you, Hunter.” she had said, throwing her arms around his shoulders, his long hair tickling the side of her face.

“You’re welcome, Kid.” He replied, his hands closing tightly around her back.

Hunter was more relaxed these days than she had ever seen him. The almost permanent crease at the bridge of his nose had all but disappeared since they had settled here. His days were restful, with early morning walks to lower Pabu, swims in the crystalline water and afternoon chats with Shep and Phee.

A painting from Crosshair sat on the table in front of her, a beautiful landscape of a cliff edge and gold and scarlet sunset. He had gotten so good over the last few months and Omega already knew exactly where she would hang it in her room.

He complained about it, stubbornly telling them that painting was a means to an end, a way to fully integrate his new hand into daily use, but as always, he couldn’t fool her. Crosshair thrived on art. He was the squad’s resident tattoo artist during the war and his talent hadn’t subsided since his retirement.

He had waited until the rest of the squad were out of the room before giving it to her, rolled up and tied with a red bow that looked suspiciously like one of Hunter’s bandanas.

“Here,” he said, “big sister,” he said a grin.

Omega had unfurled it reverently and gasped as she took in the beautiful swirls of color. She recognized the spot in the painting immediately. It was where she and Crosshair would meditate, overlooking Pabu’s beautiful ocean.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said in a soft voice.

Crosshair had chuckled, “I highly doubt that. But I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Crosshair.” she said, hugging him around his chest. He gave her a quick squeeze, two quick taps on the back and smiled down at her.

“My pleasure.”

Omega yawned and rubbed her eyes. She would have gone to bed by now if it wouldn’t have disturbed Batcher. She yawned again and noticed her brother’s voices get louder and they came in from outside.

“We wondered where you were,” Hunter said, coming to sit next to her on her left side.

The rest of her brothers filtered in. Echo moved the new crossbow he’d given her off the chair in the corner and sat with a sigh. Crosshair stood in the corner, leaning on the wall and Wrecker sat at the foot of the Life Day Tree, surreptitiously picking Mantell Mix off the string.

“Figured I’d give you some time to catch up.” She said, fingers entwined in her doll’s wool hair.

“Or you didn’t want to listen to the debate of which blaster is better,” Wrecker said with a laugh.

Omega shrugged, “Maybe a little.”

Her brothers laughed. Omega was convinced it was perhaps the best sound in the whole galaxy.

“How was your first Life Day?” Hunter asked, bumping her shoulder playfully and adjusting the green, woven bandana she had given him earlier.

“It was amazing. I wish we didn’t have to wait another year for the next one.” She said.

“That’s what makes it special.” Wrecker said, his voice muffled with Mantell mix.

“Well, if it makes it better, we have one final gift for you.” Hunter said with a nod to Echo whose hand was tucked behind him.

Echo heaved himself out of the chair and leaned over to Omega, his hand outstretched with a strange, lumpy shaped present.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Something from all of us,” Echo said with a quick look to Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker.

Omega took it happily, ripping off the paper to reveal a small, grey datapad. There were nicks out of the side of it and a deep scratch on the screen. She turned it over, revealing a skull emblem with a lightning bolt behind it.

“It was Tech’s,” Hunter said unnecessarily. “One of the older ones from our early missions. He kept them all when he upgraded to a new one, but we needed Echo to help recover some of the content.”

Omega looked around the room. Each of her brothers was smiling at her, but the smiles had an underlying bittersweetness to them. Crosshair was avoiding eye contact and Wrecker swiftly wiped away a tear from his cheek.

“You’re giving this to me? Don’t you want it?” she rasped out, her throat feeling tight.

Hunter put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “We got a lot more time with Tech than you did. We wanted you to know him the way we did, and this is your chance. Echo managed to recover his old research, recordings, and voice notes.”

“You’ll probably hear all of us on those,” Crosshair interjected.

Tears swam in Omega’s eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away as her fingers turned on the datapad and the blue screen sprang to life. She scrolled through the files, selecting one at random.

“While not entirely surprising given the climate and seasons of the planet, this rodent-like creature seems to be able change its appearance depending on temperature and light. It is quite fascinating and does not appear in any current records. It is possible it is a new discovery entirely…”

“Maybe they’ll name it after you, Tech,” Crosshair’s distant, snide voice called. Laughter erupted in the background.

“With it’s tendency towards aggression, Brother, I think it more likely it will be named after you.”

The background roared with laughter again.

Omega shut off the recording and looked around the room. Hunter, Echo and Crosshair grinned while Crosshair looked a little sheepish.

Batcher woke with a bark as Omega sprang to her feet, throwing her arms around each of her brothers in turn. She clutched the datapad to her chest.

“This is….this is…” she looked down at the datapad, running her hand over the device her lost brother had treasured. “This is the best gift I could ever hope for.”

Raucous laughter filled the common room as Omega and her brothers listened to recording after recording. Tech’s distinct voice seemed to fill the space, making it feel like he was there with them.

One by one they fell asleep, Wrecker curled up with Batcher under the tree, Echo, limp in the reclining chair, the bolts in his head shining under the glow of the tree light. Crosshair’s head flopped on his chest as he snored lightly, leaning against the wall of the common room.

Omega woke with a start and found herself leaning against Hunter, his hands aimlessly tracing through her hair.

“Ready for bed?” he asked with a low chuckle.

She nodded, sitting up and letting him scoop her in his arms. He laid her gently in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Night, Kid,” he said before slowly moving towards the door.

“Hunter?” she asked, pulling her new doll close to her chest.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Tech would have liked living on Pabu?” she asked.

Hunter smiled and crossed back over to her, “I think he would have loved it.” he said, putting the datapad on the bedside table, next to Tech’s cracked goggles. “But he’s always with us, Kid. With you.”

Omega smiled sleepily.

Hunter hesitated before leaning over and kissing her gently on her hair. “Goodnight, Omega.”

“Goodnight.” She yawned before sleep took her away on an adventure, with all of her brothers.

[faynthearted]

“This is not a negotiation.”

“I’m not trying to negotiate. I’m telling you my ultimatum.”

He Cheng shakes his head, slow. He’s irritated and drying his hands on the kitchen towel. “And what makes you think an ultimatum is on the table to begin with?” he asks. He says it the same way he would say, Do you honestly believe you’ve got a choice in this?

The condescension is incendiary.

“If he wanted me out of China this urgently, I would’ve been gone weeks ago,” He Tian answers. “And he wouldn’t have sent you as the messenger, he would’ve sent someone who’d only let me ask questions once I’m already on an airborne fucking plane.”

“Is that what you prefer me to do? Use direct force?”

He Tian gives him a sharp look. “Don’t act like you haven’t already tried.”

———

read permafrost (ch 3) on ao3!

[notfeelingthyaster]

fanfics that have damian raised by bruce: why keep damian's initial problems with adapting/hatred or dislike for anyone except dick? he is a by-product of his upbringing, it makes no sense.

[anundyingfidelity]

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

[captivatedbyurhubris]

‘What’s the D in your name stand for?’ Ace asks, looking thoughtfully at Luffy.

‘Dumb!’ Sabo volunteers.

Ace glares at him, unimpressed. Luffy blows a raspberry.

‘Dunno!’ the little boy says, ‘maybe donuts!’

‘Dunno works as well,’ Sabo mumbles.

That startles a laugh out of Ace, that he seems to be surprised by himself. Sabo looks up to Ace beaming at him. Sabo gives him a shy smile in return. 

scenes from my fic that I'm proud of 6/?

< read on AO3 >

[girl9inthepinkdres]

just imagine:

an AU of the marauders where they have a BAND ( sirius on guitar and microphone, james on guitar, remus on electric bass and peter on drums ) performing covers then they start playing "Lonely Day" by System of Down!!

(Because I feel like they would sing something between light rock like queen and heavy rock black Sabbath)

And in the chorus "and if you go, a wanna go with you, and if you die, a wanna die with you, take your hand and walk away..." Sirius starts singing walking up to Remus and looking at him, and during James' solo (if I'm not mistaken) they BOOM, kiss!!! and the audience cheers like crazy!!!

If you have or know any fanfics of the Marauders Au band please share them here!!!!

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part VII/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, death, gore, religious themes (blink and you'll miss it)

A/N: woah look at that. We made it to D-Day. I thought I'd leave this on hiatus before reaching this point BUT I DIDN'T. This one's a little longer but I don't care and neither do you. If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know and enjoy<3

GIF credit

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

READER'S P. O. V.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come; thy…

Thy…

"Fuck."

The cuss got lost in the deafening racket of the plane.

I clenched my jaw, blinking away the sting of sweat caused by the stress and the ridiculous amount of gear we were supposed to drop with.

I'm gonna die.

The thought settled in like it had always been there— and maybe it had been. It wasn't a question, not even fear; just a cold, undeniable fact.

My fingers dug into my straps. I tried to picture what it would feel like —why?—, if I would know, if would have time to know. If it would hurt or just… end.

The plane rocked, metal clattering around us. My stomach lurched. A frustrated swear on my far left. A properly muttered prayer in front of me, unlike mine. My knuckles had gone bloodless around the straps, my mind running too fast.

I'm gonna die.

I exhaled slow. Forced my hands to unclench.

Should've taken that second pill.

I checked my gear again. Helmet, straps, chute. Leg bag, M1, grenades. My grandma's cross. Compass, knife, my helmet again. Was the strap too loose?

I'm gonna die.

Lieutenant Compton walked the row, his booming voice barely cutting through the engines' roar. I nodded when he looked at me, mechanical, automatic.

The crammed space smelled like metal, sweat and oil. My skin was too tight, my pulse hammering slow and deep in my throat, my stomach still twisting.

The light overhead burned red.

Almost time.

The plane rocked again. Someone screamed. I would have sworn the plane gained speed.

But the light turned green.

Time to go.

JOE'S P. O. V.

The plane rattled like it was about to fall apart.

My head rested against the vibrating metal wall, eyes half-lidded as I attempted to keep my stomach from doing another somersault. That little pill they gave us—meant to stop... airsickness? Had kicked in hard.

Everything felt just a little too slow; my limbs felt like they were moving through molasses, and the weight of the equipment wasn't helping the bizarre sensation.

My thoughts, out of step with my body, were running at full speed.

Not that they were worth much right now.

Please, God. If you're listening, make it quick.

That was about as much praying as I was willing to do.

The red interior light casted ominous shadows on everyone's faces, turning them into a row of ghosts strapped in with jump gear. The grumble of the engines swallowed almost everything, but ever so often, I caught a cough, the sound of someone sucking in a shaky breath, someone shouting for smokes.

I didn't look at anyone. I didn't want to see fear on their faces. I didn't want to see the absence of it, either.

I focused on my gloved hands, resting on my lap. I flexed my fingers. Loosened, clenched, loosened. Checked my weapon for the tenth time.

It's not going anywhere. Let it be.

Winters did his best to have his last-minute instructions reach us. I barely heard him, so I just nodded along, licking my lips.

Focus.

The taste of smoke and sweat.

The bite of adrenaline that hadn't hit full force yet.

The cold touch of the hook strapped in the line.

The thought of her.

"The fuck..."

Not on purpose.

It wasn't sentimental, nothing dramatic—just a flash of Y/n's face, half-shadowed, rain dripping off her collar, a cigarette hanging from her lips, curved into an open smile.

"This damn pill."

"WHATCHA SAY?!!" Someone behind me —who was supposed to be behind me?— yelled straight into my ear.

"THIS DAMN PILL!!"

A couple if pats on my shoulder blade.

"YOU BETTER WAKE UP, LIEB!!"

I shook my head, exhaled through my nose.

Focus.

I could see flashing lights through the clouds. Lightning, maybe. Something worse, probably. France beneath us.

Jesus.

My fingers curled tighter around the edge of my reserve chute. The air inside the plane shifted, like everyone had started breathing a little shallower. Lieutenant raised a fist. Equipment check.

I swallowed, rolling my shoulders.

"Shit. C'mon."

Please, God. Make it fucking quick.

The light turned green.

READER'S P. O. V.

The ground came up too fast, the impact rattling through my spine and knocking the air from my lungs. The canopy that had barely stopped my kneecaps from busting against the french soil dragged me half a foot before I managed to fight the buckle free.

A strained gasp left me when I rolled onto my stomach and sat back on my heels. Just a moment, just to check everything was in place.

The grass was damp, the earthiness of the air mixing with the gunpowder. My palms patted my body from top to bottom, acknowledging what was left of my gear by touch alone.

The knife strapped to my calf, the loose rounds digging into my pockets, my compass, my M1.

No helmet.

"Shit!"

A ragged burn where my chinstrap had dug into my skin before the force of the blast blew it off.

I wasn't dead, though. Not yet.

That was the only thing I knew for certain.

My surroundings were pure chaos, partly because of the mayhem of sounds, partly because my sight relied solely in whatever bit of the landscape the anti-aircraft tracers lit up intermittently.

I wasn't dead. I strained my ears, listening for voices, for movement, for anything I could catch nearby despite the drone of planes overhead.

Somewhere ahead of me, something moved. I heard it before I saw it and I prayed for the cover of darkness and my lack of helmet to work in my favor. But the movement was slow. Intentional. Close. A shuffle. Closer.

I squinted my eyes and, rifle raised, I caught a figure. Low in the grass, barely visible. My first instinct was to shoot. I had been trained to shoot, we all had. Shoot first, think second.

Shoot first.

Shoot.

But recognition had bloomed in me before thought, before instinct.

"Liebgott?"

The person slithered fast in my direction, triggering an uneven stammering in my heart. A hand clamped down on my arm, bringing me forward so fast I almost faceplanted into the dirt.

"Jesus Christ, Y/l/n." Joe's voice, rough and sharp. Too close. He was crouched in front of me, knife gripped so tight his knuckles were white, sweat slicking his forehead under his netted helmet. "Flash. Thunder." I could feel his breath against my cheek, his grip still firm on my arm, holding me low. "How 'bout you don't throw out my goddamn name in enemy territory?"

"Fucking flash, asshole." I yanked free but didn't bother on putting distance between us.

"Where's your damn helmet?" There was a certain frustration in his tone, not quite at me, nor at the helmet, but at the situation. They had fucked us over.

"Somewhere over Normandy."

"That's lovely."

"You don't have a gun?"

"What's it look like, smartass?"

His tone was biting, but his eyes, widened and on edge, were scanning our swamped vicinity.

"How long have you been down here?"

"Couple minutes." His response was low and sort of absent. He was focused on something else. "Saw your chute. Thought you'd be someone from my stick."

"Missed the drop zone."

He glanced me over. "You or me?"

"Don't know yet." I took a look around and, thanks to the deathly flashes shot at the C-47s, I got a glimpse of the chaotically scattered canopies still dropping from the planes, too fast, too low, too dispersed. "Maybe everyone."

Just when Joe looked like he was about to reply something, the air split.

We both spun to face the thud of a body hitting the ground beside us, my rifle up in no time, breaths frozen in our throats. The figure writhed, tangled in his chute, gasping something between a groan and a curse.

Joe was quicker than me to recognize him. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Petty."

Petty twisted onto his back, still winded. "Hell of a way to wake up."

I let my rifle lower, pulse hammering, but still found the nerve to turn to Joe and spit, "What happened to flash, thunder, 'don't throw out names in enemy territory'?"

Joe wiped a hand down his face. "Give me a fucking break, sweetheart."

"You call me sweetheart again, I swear to God—"

"No, I swear to God," Petty interrupted, cutting himself loose from his chute to join us. "if you two don't shut up, the Krauts won't have time to get you before I do." He shot us an exasperated glare, checking his sidearm. "My friggin' luck."

"Don't sound so thrilled there, buddy." Joe bit back.

"Let's just move." Petty loaded the pistol and quirked a brow at me, expectant. "Y/l/n?"

"I'm on it." I pulled my compass from my breast pocket and took advantage of the German artillery barraging our planes. "Alright." Think. You don't need a map. Just think. "We're moving out to those hedgerows." I pointed behind us. "Look out for railroads. They'll make this much easier."

"Who needs a map when you got Y/n Y/l/n, am I right?" Petty slapped Joe's shoulder and eagerly followed my indications.

We needed a damn map.

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

JOE'S P. O. V.

The first dead soldiers we came across weren't Germans. They weren't Nazis, shot down with an M1, laid on the french grass.

They were ours.

A couple of unlucky men.

No, not men. Kids.

The first one was hanging by his risers on the higher branches, swaying like a butchered pig.

The second one was a few feet lower, limbs tangled like a broken marionette. Their chutes had failed to cut loose. Or maybe they had been shot before they had the chance. Maybe they hit the trees wrong and snapped their necks before they could even fight for air.

It didn't matter. They were dead all the same.

We knew their faces. Not their names—just faces. We had all trained together at some point, ate in the same mess halls, stood in the same formation. I was sure one of them had played poker with us back in Aldbourne.

Y/n forced herself not to avert her eyes.

Petty turned away, finding solace on the dewed grass.

I didn't.

I couldn't.

So I stared, my stomach twisting at the unnaturally shaped silhouettes hanging above us.

"We need to grab their gear." Y/n noted, not quite contemplating the bodies as much as assessing the easiest way to reach them.

I forced myself to blink. "Yeah."

"Who's climbing?" Petty's inquiry was hushed, as if he didn't want to disturb the hanging men.

Y/n moved first, brushing past me to get to the base of the twisted trunk. She tested her footing, sizing up the climb, then glanced over her shoulder.

I didn't even let her ask. I just knelt, clasping my hands together. Her mud-covered boot setting into my grip served as a prompt for me to boost her up, which I did. She caught the lowest branch and pulled herself higher.

The tree groaned softly under her weight. She climbed fast, steady, the rope of her dog tags catching the faintest rays of dawn slipping through the dark clouds with every shift of her body.

I wasn't able to discern her expression while her knife forced the risers to give with a few purposeful slices.

One body dropped.

It hit the ground heavy, wrong, all limp limbs and dead weight. Something inside me flinched like I had been yanked backward by the spine.

She climbed higher, a poorly contained gasp pushing out her throat when her grip slipped.

"Shit—" Petty hissed, both of us taking an instinctive step closer to the base of the tree as if to catch her.

She dismissed us with a vague wave of her hand and, with a stretched arm, she slashed the second soldier's tangled straps.

And another body dropped, this time closer, harder. The sound wasn't as loud as a gunshot, but it might as well have been. A dull, sick thud.

God, they didn't train us for this.

Y/n didn't dwell on it; she just started climbing down like she hadn't just sent a couple of american paratroopers crashing lifelessly to the ground.

I stepped forward, bracing her by the waist to help her down.

She immediately bristled. "I don't need fucking help—"

My fingers clenched against her uniform, too tight —tighter than I meant— and hauled her down. "I'm not in the mood, so shut the fuck up."

"Joe, c'mon." Petty halfheartedly chastised me, like he knew this moment would inevitably come and he really didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

"No, don't start with me" I snapped, throwing him a look over my shoulder. "when she's the one bitching and moaning."

My attention immediately returned to Y/n, who had gone uncharacteristically still, her eyes trained on my form.

Not because I hadn't let go of her yet.

Because my hands were shaking.

Just a tremor against her ribs, a flex of my fingers like I was willing them to stay steady. But she noticed.

I let go of her uniform like it had burned me. Petty, who had given up quickly on trying to keep peace, was now kneeling by the fallen soldiers, rummaging through their gear. My hands were still trembling. I rubbed them together once, twice, like it might shake the feeling out.

"Okay." Y/n's tone shifted. It was subtle, almost imperceptible. Not soft. But not the usual edge either. A tilt of her head. "Okay..." A frown. "Alright."

Not worried, not exactly. Maybe careful, but not by much.

She reached out, gloved fingers brushing the fabric of my sleeve briefly before fisting it with a quiet, determined yank.

My first instinct was to jerk away, so I did; I pulled my arm free in one clean motion.

"We gotta move." Petty's voice broke the silence, attracting our glances to him. He wasn't looking at us. His eyes were scanning the trees, the low grass, the quiet farmhouse at his six.

Y/n didn't budge. "Give me a second."

Petty groaned, did a half turn and commented something I barely caught above the scattered gunfire about having to land with us out of everyone. But he indulged her nonetheless.

She yanked my sleeve again, more forceful this time. The sound of it scraping against my arm was unrealistically loud —at least to my ears.

Her pitch was calculated, nonchalant enough to almost pass as casual. "You good?"

It threw me off. If she had picked up on it, she didn't bring it up. Maybe later on, in the middle of a pointless argument, she would.

My reply was clipped and fast. "Fuck that."

"Joe."

It's wasn't the word that got me; it was the way she said it, and the faint glimpse of genuine care in her pupils, visible only when the occasional flak fire going up into the late night turned early morning illuminated her features.

Get a grip.

"I'm good. C'mon."

My voice didn't exactly sound convinced, but at the very least it sounded resolved and stubborn, and that would have to cut it.

Y/n stared at me for a beat. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment I thought she might press again.

She didn't. Instead, she just tilted her chin up once as if to say 'fine'.

She moved past me and reached the corpses in a couple of strides, catching the helmet Petty threw her way.

Get a fucking grip.

[yourmusicmuse]

This is my addition to the Valentine's Day @outsiders-gift-exchanges event!! My Valentine is @princess-lil-spidey !! I hope you enjoy this Curtis Brothers fic, and happy (slightly late) Valentine's Day!! 🥰💕

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63147892