#do you think Brian would read with ivy on his shoulder and check to make sure she was done with the page before he flipped to the next page

[unsat-and-strange]

another doodle page for the beauty and the beast au (Brian and the beast, if I may)

cogsworth lyf and lumiere Tim getting into shenanigans ft an interaction from one of the first posts of this au, (un)creature jonny mourning his beautiful hair, the return of nastya :) I think castle aurora is shaped like the mechs logo and I pray the sketch in the bottom left reads as such. the next page has brians first search for carmilla (whoever brought up the idea of him calling for his mama ripped my heart out) also best wingmen Tim and Bertie, potential Bertie design, and Court Enchantress Carmilla. I am unwell about all of this, continue feeding the fire please I'm begging you

real quick gonna tag @rocksanddeadflowers and @blazeismyname

[gunpowdville]

The Great Flesh-Eating Cake Incident of Year [REDACTED] (Not to be Confused With the Bifrost Incident)

Chapters: 1/2

Words: 3502

Relationships: Drumbot Brian - Raphaella la Cognizi (queerplatonic), Gunpowder Tim/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina (although most don’t show up until the second chapter)

Other Things: genderfluid tim, she/her tim, he/fae marius :)

Summary: Brian and Raph bake a cake. Or, they try to. It doesn't exactly go well. (aka, Why Raphaella la Cognizi Should Never Be Allowed in the Kitchen)

read on ao3 here or read below the cut for people who don't like ao3 (i will post the second chapter. at some point. hopefully soon)

Chapter 1

“Try it now.”

“Is it safe?”

“Does that matter?”

Brian gives her what she calls his teacher look, a combination of calm exasperation and gentle chiding. “I would prefer to not fry myself from the inside out, if I can help it.”

“Boring,” Raphaella accuses, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “And you know I’d fix you if you did.” Well actually, she would get Nastya to fix him, as Raph herself has absolutely no self control when it comes to the prospect of tinkering with a complex mechanism and Brian hates being tinkered on without his permission.

“Yes, of course, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell,” Brian points out. “Not to mention how horrendously it would fuck up my systems.”

Raphaella pouts. “So I installed the flamethrower for nothing?”

Brian hesitates. “...I didn’t say that.”

Raphaella perks up immediately, turning her full attention from the clattered worktable to her partner. Brian straightens up and faces away from her, focusing at the blank wall at one end of the lab. He pokes his tongue around the inside of his mouth a little, probing at the new addition in the back. He tests out flipping its settings, making sure everything flows smoothly, then steels himself and opens his mouth, turning it on. Nothing happens.

Raphaella throws up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t understand! That should have worked! It-”

Brian yelps suddenly, clapping his hands to his throat as the back of it heats up rapidly, too rapidly, the heat growing from gently uncomfortable to unbearable in a matter of seconds. Luckily, his systems react before he can, shutting off the new attachment the second it could cause potential harm. The heat fades almost as quickly as it had swelled.

“Ow,” Brian says mildly.

“That was about to work,” Raphaella huffs, hands on her hips, eyes fixed somewhat accusingly on Brian. “If you had just waited a moment longer.”

“It was about to melt my vocal cords,” Brian points out in retort. Raphaella throws up her hands again.

“My husband is a coward,” she declares to no one in particular, with no actual insult behind it. Brian can’t help but smile softly at the endearment. They’re not married, technically, but for all intents and purposes they might as well be.

“I’ve started to become convinced that you’re simply trying to kill me,” Brian remarks to her as she turns back to the notes on her lab table. She shoots him a brightly malicious look, one backed heavily with fondness. “Maybe I am.”

He sits down on the stool beside the lab table and reaches for her, catching her waist from behind and pulling her onto his lap. She leans back into him as he wraps his arms around her, and he rests his chin on her shoulder so he can peer down at the pages of notes in her hands.

“Here, tell me what I’m doing wrong,” Raphaella holds up the notes so Brian can get a better look at them. He hums thoughtfully as he scans her delicate sketch of his body, each part individually labelled with possible enhancements to be added in Raph’s lacy handwriting. Brian’s own handwriting, cramped and blocky, annotates the science officer’s notes with his own observations of measurements and possible difficulties.

In his mind, Brian overlays the sketch on top of the official schematics the doc left in there, focusing on his throat and the new addition, checking for anywhere where it isn’t wired properly or messing with any of his other systems. Nothing. He bites his lip, a very natural bad habit that he’s never been able to shake, despite it splitting the rubber badly. Raphaella hits him lightly in the side of the head when she notices him doing it.

“I don’t think it’s anything you’ve done,” Brian says finally, leaning back slightly on the stool. “I think it’s simply a matter of too much heat.”

Raphaella ‘hmphs’, taking her notes back from him and setting them back on the table. She turns her head to study Brian’s face, placing her hands atop his where they rest over her stomach. He quirks an eyebrow at her, and she regards him silently. He can tell that she’s thinking through what next to work on, now that their flamethrower experiment is a bust.

He gives her stomach a light pat. “If you don’t mind, I was going to go bake something. Tim’s been complaining that there aren’t enough ‘munchies’ onboard. And yes, that is the word xe used.”

Raphaella slaps a hand to her heart melodramatically, the gesture accompanied by a theatrical gasp. “Leaving me for Tim, are we? Scandal.”

Brian chuckles gently as he rises to his feet, dislodging Raph in the process. “Yes, I’ve decided you’re much too cruel and brutal for me, and I’d be much happier feeding Tim for the rest of eternity.”

Raphaella tosses her hair and turns away from him, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up imperiously. “Good riddance.”

“Good riddance indeed,” Brian agrees drily, with no heat behind it. Raph glaces over her shoulder at him and grins, and he smiles back as he slips out the lab door, tipping his hat as he goes.

Ivy’s reading at the kitchen counter when he enters. She doesn’t look up as he makes his way into the kitchen proper, wrangling his hair into a wiry ponytail and tossing his hat on the counter. He peeks at the cover of her book and makes an intrigued little noise when he notices it’s about prophets and oracles throughout space and time.

“I was going to give it you when I was finished,” Ivy says without looking up. “I thought it might interest you.”

“It does,” Brian tells her, and she smirks, proud of herself. She still doesn’t take her eyes off the pages. Brian leans over, resting his elbows on the counter, and knocks his forehead briefly against hers, a somewhat awkward sign of affection that’s he’s developed with some members of the crew. She responds by patting his head absentmindedly, still not looking up from her book. He smiles, and turns back to the kitchen.

After a couple minutes of rummaging around in cabinets, Brian becomes aware of Raphaella’s presence leaning against the counter to his left.

“Missed me?” he asks teasingly. She rolls her eyes and pokes him in the arm. “You promised you’d teach me to bake.”

Brian pauses, replaying the last ten minutes in his mind to confirm that he has not, in fact, promised her this. And then he realizes that she’s referring to a time quite a few decades ago, when the two of them had been left back on the ship while the others had been out pillaging a nigh-extinct planet. They’d been sharing some pastries that Brian had been experimenting with, and Raphaella had asked him how he’d made them. He had launched straight into a detailed explanation of exactly which ingredients he had used and what amounts of each, and how he had played with the measurements and tweaked the recipe to see how he could improve it. Raph had listened with utter fascination, and after he had finished she had mentioned that it seemed a bit like her experiments, only with slightly different materials. He had offered to teach her a little, if she’d like, and she had said she would love to learn. And now here they are.

“I did do that, didn’t I,” Brian muses. He studies Raph, leaning against the counter, a sparkle in her eyes that both makes him excited to see what she has in store and fear for his life.

“So?” Raphaella raises an eyebrow. Brian considers.

“We are making a cake,” he tells her, keeping his voice slow, steady, and serious. “A basic cake. We are not going to put anything in it that is not on the ingredients list. We are going to follow the recipe. To the letter. And we are not, I repeat, we are not going to burn down my kitchen.”

My kitchen, Aurora corrects him gently.

“Our kitchen,” he concedes.

Raphaella steps forward and takes Brian’s hands, looking him solemnly in the eyes. “I won’t let you down,” she promises. “Trust me.”

“Phee, I love you to death, and I always will” Brian tells her, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “But I draw the line at trusting you.”

“Rude,” Raph sniffs, while Ivy tries to cover up a snort.

“Practical,” Brian shoots back, letting go of her hands and reaching past her to pluck the recipe from the counter. With a flourish, he deposits it in her hands. “Find me these ingredients.”

Raphaella mutters something about ‘bossybitch Brian’ as she turns away from him and marches purposefully toward the cupboards. He watches her fondly for a moment, before busying himself gathering pans and setting up his beloved electric mixer, something he’d found being sold for scraps on a junkyard planet and had lovingly repaired and repainted with his own two hands. Its name is Small Brian, and it remains one of his most prized possessions.

“Bri, which eggs are we using?” Raphaella calls to him, her head buried deep in the disorganized fridge. Brian abandons Small Brian for just a moment and pokes his head in beside hers.

“Ah, not those,” he says, indicating a half dozen of jet-black eggs glowing faintly from within. “Those are Ashes’. They will supposedly hatch into a rare breed of fire-breathing corvid.”

“And those?” Raphaella points to the other carton of eggs.

“We’re using those,” Brian confirms, pulling the carton out. “Ah. Wait. Not this one.” Carefully, he removes a small, round, green orb from the carton and places it gently on the counter. “An octokitten laid this. We think.”

Raphaella leans over and picks it up, holding it in the palm of her hand and bringing it up close to her eyes. She looks suspiciously like she’s about to slip it into her pocket, so Brian plucks it from her hands before she gets a chance to. She sticks her tongue out at him. He waves her off to go collect the rest of the ingredients, reminding her that the lovely ceramic pot labeled ‘sugar’ is in fact actually filled with gunpowder, and the sugar is in the cabinet to its right. Meanwhile he goes back to fussing over Small Brian.

The mixer isn’t starting up properly, it keeps stuttering and stopping whenever he tries to turn it on. Brian frowns, tapping the top of it with a metal finger. “Come on, love,” he says softly to Small Brian. “Don’t give up on me now. Not after all we’ve been through.”

“Raph,” Ivy speaks up from her place at the counter, her tone amused. “Brian’s talking to the appliances again.”

“If either of you make a joke comparing me to an appliance, I will kill you,” Brian warns both of them placidly, fiddling with Small Brian’s mechanisms until the machine whines and starts up properly. “Good lad,” Brian says, patting the appliance lovingly.

“I saw that,” he adds when he catches the look Ivy and Raphaella share over the counter. Raphaella rolls her eyes and gestures to him to come approve the ingredients she’s gathered. She hooks her arm through his and tips her head onto his shoulder while he checks each one off against the recipe.

“Excellent, that’s everything. Thank you.” he says, kissing her on the top of the head. “ Now we can begin.”

Raphaella, as always, is a very attentive student, listening well and asking questions when necessary. He suspects that she asks some of the questions just to listen to him talk about something he loves, and he adores her for it. They work very well together, the two of them, bantering back and forth as they do. Ivy chimes in on occasion, never taking her eyes off of her book.

Jonny strolls into the kitchen at one point, zeroing in on the chocolate chips scattered across the counter with a predator’s precision. As soon as he spots the first mate, Brian sweeps a knife into his hand and points it at him. “Out.”

Jonny backs away, throwing his hands up in surrender. He’s been killed enough times over messing around in the kitchen that he knows by now that the best thing to do is back off.

All in all, it’s a shockingly peaceful time. Brian hums to himself as he stirs ingredients together, and Raphaella goes through the cupboards, looking for something to play with. She reaches to open one in the back, and Brian notices too late which one it is. Raphaella stops, tilting her head in curiosity as she stares at the contents of the cupboard.

“Oh, Briiiiiiiiaaan?” she calls in a singsong voice, which is usually a sign that Brian is about to either be taken apart or assist in taking apart someone else. “What is this?”

Brian sighs and sets down the bowl, making his way slowly over to her. She raises an eyebrow at him as he gazes silently for a moment at the dismantled skeleton shoved into the back of the cupboard. “Those… are my bones.”

“Your… bones.”

“My bones.”

“Why…?”

Brian shrugs. “It’s not like I’m using them.”

“Right.” Raphaella studies the skeleton for a moment longer, before declaring, “I’m going to make soup out of them.”

Brian starts. “I’m sorry?”

“Your bones. I’m going to make soup out of them.”

“You are not.”

“Bone broth is a thing, isn’t it? Ivy?”

“It is,” Ivy confirms, casually turning a page.

Raphaella grins, gathering the bones into her arms. “Brian soup.”

“Brian s- no!”

“Brian soup Brian soup Brian soup Brian soup-”

“NO.”

“I thought the doc took your bones,” Ivy mentions, as Brian attempts to gently cajole his partner into giving him back said bones.

“I asked her to let me keep some of them,” Brian explains, tugging a rib out of Raph’s arms and dislodging about three more, which clatter to the floor unceremoniously. “They are mine, after all.”

“It’s unusually sentimental of me, I know,” he adds as Raphaella ducks under his arm, executing a perfect twirl to get the bones out of his reach, “I’m not quite sure why I wanted them.”

“For soup,” Raphaella quips, and Ivy snorts as Brian throws himself at the science officer. Raph yelps and scrambles away from him, and so begins an epic chase around the kitchen, Raph struggling to run away while clutching an armful of bones, the owner of said bones following a step behind her, playfully angry.

Brian doesn’t realize he’s started humming to himself until Raphaella turns to face him, jogging backwards, and asks what song it is.

“It’s a new one I’m working on,” he says, using her moment of distraction as an opportunity to trap her in the kitchen, the wraparound counter devoid of exits besides the one that he is currently standing in front of. “It’s called ‘Raphaella Please Don’t Make Soup Out of My Bones.’”

“I hate it,” Raphaella decides, still backing away. She’s almost hit the counter, and Brian smirks at his inevitable victory.

“You’ve barely heard it,” he argues, and begins humming louder. Raphaella’s back hits the counter, and Brian stops. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, he begins tapping his foot along to the tune.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Raphaella starts, but the other foot has already begun to move as well. Just tapping at first, tap tap tapping to a beat in Brian’s head, but the footwork quickly becomes more and more complicated as he eases into the song. Ivy picks it up quickly and starts tapping her fingers on the counter, taking charge of the beat while Brian continues humming the melody.

Raphaella shakes her head, refusing to let his shenanigans charm her, but Brian refuses to give up. He dances his way smoothly across the floor to her, finishing with an elegant twirl and an extended hand. Raphaella regards him with reluctant defeat, then rolls her eyes and takes Brian’s hand.

He waltzes her out into the middle of the floor, two steps forward, one step back. He spins her out, then spins her back in so they’re swaying with her back pressed to his chest. “You’re a master manipulator, you know,” she says to him. He smiles. She twirls him out, then twirls him back in and dips him, effortlessly holding up his mass of metal.

“I don’t remember this step of the cake recipe,” Ivy comments drily. She’s finally looking up from her book and is watching the two of them with an expression that is equal parts exasperated and amused.

“Which step, the bone soup or the dancing?” Brian returns, just as dry. Ivy is saved from having to respond by the arrival of Marius, who comes striding through the door like an invading general, arms spread wide in greeting.

“Well, if it isn’t my three favorite delinquents,” fae says, grinning like a maniac. “Dancing in the kitchen like- wait. Why is Raph in the kitchen?”

“I’m helping,” Raph says proudly, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a decidedly smug fashion as Brian collects his bones and returns them to their cupboard. “How can we help you?”

Marius pulls up a stool and takes a seat next to Ivy, scanning the pages of her book idly. “Tim stole my partner.”

“To be fair, Tim is also dating your partner,” Brian points out, handing the bowl of cake batter to Raph to finish stirring and put in the oven.

“Sure, but she’s being smug about it. So I’m pouting,” Marius replies, metal fingers tapping on the counter. “Oh, also: Tim wanted me to tell you. She/her for the time being.”

Brian nods, taking note of the pronouns. “Well, when you feel like speaking to Tim again, you can tell her that a cake is on its way.”

Marius raises an eyebrow. “You mean that cake that Raph just slipped something into behind your back?”

Honestly, Brian is surprised that this didn’t happen earlier. Slowly, he turns to Raphaella, who meets his eyes with a mischievous smirk as she slips an empty vial back into her pocket.

“What was in that?” he asks gently, not mad, just curious.

“Just a little something I whipped up,” Raphaella says, giving the batter an experimental stir. An odd squelching noise escapes from the bowl, and she quickly lets go of the wooden spoon as a dark tendril of… something curls up around it, possessive and hungry. “Oh. That’s interesting.”

“What the fuck was that?” Marius leans forward over the counter, curiosity evident on faer features.

Raphaella sets the bowl carefully on the floor and steps away from it, circling around it to Brian’s side. He gives her a questioning look, and she shrugs cheerfully, indicating that she has no idea whatsoever the effect of whatever she put in may be. With somewhat tired resignation, Brian steps forward to investigate what has become of his simple chocolate cake.

It’s… alive. The dark, viscous substance in the bowl has begun to writhe and bubble in a distinctively sentient manner, tendrils forming reaching out, looking to grab hold of something. The tendrils feel their way around tentatively, like a newborn animal learning to walk for the first time. The substance itself has an oddly familiar shimmer to it, the nearly oil-black surface revealing colors of every hue and nature when the light hits it.

“That looks like…” Marius frowns, clambering over the counter and dropping next to Brian as what was meant to be a cake slowly drags itself out of the bowl and onto the floor. “Oh, Raph, you didn’t!”

“Don’t touch it,” Brian advises as Marius crouches near the thing to get a better look.

Marius gives the Drumbot a scathing look. “I’m not a moron, Brian, I’m not going to-”

“Mare, get back,” Brian snaps, but it’s too late. The crawling blob has already reached the violinists foot and has clamped on tightly, wrapping its tentacles up and around his leg. He stares down at it in mild concern for a moment, then says: “Fuck.”

What happens next is hard to describe. The viscous thing sort of… stretches itself, until it covers Marius’ entire body, undulating and pulsing, then collapses in on itself, returning to its smaller form, leaving nothing but a slightly steaming metal arm left where the ship’s doctor once stood.

“What the hell did you do?” Brian demands, staring at the (now slightly larger) creation as it drags its way across the floor.

Raphaella doesn’t respond. “I think it ate faer,” she says instead. Then, “where is it going?”

Brian glances at the floor just in time to see the thing disappear into the vents. He lets out a cry, but it is much to late. It’s gone.

“Well,” Ivy says, staring with vague concern at the open vent. “Fuck.”

[day-time-dream]

ok so im posting this conversation transcript so ill ((hopefully)) be able to find it later and also yall should read the wild stuff @nocturnal-and-chaotic and i came up with while discussing HNOC a while ago

CHEL-i like to think that literally the only reason brian bothered to give any prophecies was that he was trying to keep mordred from getting him stuck in the sun

NOCT-yes

but also he tries to be a good person

CHEL-which comes with the lovely mental image of every time mordred passes the hanged man hes like ‘is that prophetic statue.....glaring at me?’

NOCT-gorgeous

wanna hear my latest mechs hot take

CHEL-sure

NOCT-the hanged man rusts is just brian rolling 2 nat 1's and a nat 20 on a charisma check

CHEL- noice

also he was stuck on means justify ends that whole time and thats why he couldnt just get down

it would have been rude

NOCT- oh my god youre so right

or maybe he wasn't actually hanged, he just got himself stuck and everyone sort of assumed he had been hanged and he was to embarrassed to say anything

CHEL-thank you. im very into your idea that brian just fucked up and got himself stuck

and then people started using ‘the hanged man’ as a cautionary tale and he couldnt just get down!! that would be a bad example!!

NOCT-no no, he's physically incapable of getting down, and it would be rude to ask for help

the real reason it takes the crew so long to fish him out of the sun is that they keep picturing his face when he got stuck and then they start laughing again

CHEL-i cant tell if i better like the idea that brian was there alone and wrote/told the others about hnoc or if the others were there and thought it was the funniest fucking thing he’d ever done

NOCT-every single one of the mechanisms would have laughed directly in brians face

CHEL-i think thats where the angst or comedy branches off

oh absolutely

jonny comes by once a week to ask someone in town to ‘explain what this metal man thing is. why is it up there? what does it do?’ and brian is hanging there like, if it were not for the laws of this land and also the fact that i am stuck up here and also my morality being on mje i would slaughter you

NOCT-ivy walks past after jonny, commenting about how foolish the hangman must have been to tie such easily escapable knots

although i like to think they all left when they saw which way the wind was blowing, and just,,. forgot brian?? and then when they realized, the series of fuck ups were just too funny and they laughed at brain for a couple decades before picking him up

CHEL-*the mechs, drifting through space, having a grand old time*

tim: hey lets go to -random planet-

*three days later*

tim: why are we not on the planet yet

ashes: idk ask brian

tim: brians not here

mechs:..........

jonny: FUCK we forgot brian

NOCT-screeching

CHEL-the reason it took them so long to get back is no one else can fucking fly the aurora

NOCT-nastya and aurora were on a break

CHEL-yea nastya could ask her to take them there but it takes a Lot of persuasion and its very uncomfortable for everyone else

NOCT-eeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

CHEL- -marius

NOCT- -jonny

i mean its definitely both

CHEL-brian gets back on board and no one will look at each other and hes like ‘i hope you all fucking learned your lessons i am the most important fucking crewmember on this ship’

NOCT-no, he assumes everyone was drunk and forgot but had no other problems, and everyone makes a silent agreement to never tell him the truth

CHEL-no i think ive gone from ‘brian was just Too Nice to come down from the gallows and the other mechs thought this was hilarious’ to ‘brian purposefully got himself stuck in a sun for a thousand years so the others would start giving him some goddamn Respect’ and i like this

NOCT-ok i'm on board with the exception that everyone else THINKS my version is what happened but in reality they all got played

CHEL-oh yes absolutely

NOCT-raphealla*** writes lost in the cosmos because she feels bad

CHEL-vksjebksjfna WHAT

NOCT-i cant spell

help please

CHEL-its raphaella i think

but i was thinking about that conversation

NOCT-idk i just thought raphaella would want to apologize without admitting they forgot brian so she goes,

you know what shows we care? a backstory song!

CHEL-brian: yea you all left me in a sun huh?

raph: yes and while you were gone i wrote you a song for us to perform together

brian: cool!

*after listening*

brian: its...,very beautiful......and well written?

raph: do you not like it? its kinda an apology.....

brian: as an apology for you all leaving me alone in space you wrote me a song-

raph: yes!

brian: -about my agonizing death alone in space?

raph: ....ah

NOCT-raph, scribbling in a notebook: reminding people of trauma is not a good way to handle lesser trauma. got it

jonny, reading over her shoulder: i just thought of a great way to bother tim!

CHEL-and thats how gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser was written

NOCT-canon

[schrijverr]

Cared For

Jonny is the smallest and secretly loves that fact since it gets him attention from the others. When it suddenly stops he’s crushed and cries during crew night, and gets hugged and comforted

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed something or you want me to tag anything!

~~~~~~~~~~

Jonny was small, he knew he was small.

New Texas already didn’t have a tall planetary average and he also hadn’t had any luck with genetics, which meant that the other Mechanisms towered over him, no matter age or gender. He was the tiniest of them all and he, surprisingly enough, loved that fact.

He loved how Brian would come up from behind and grab the thing he was reaching for and hand it to him with a pat on the head, no matter how much he grumbled about it.

He loved how Ashes would use his head as a rest and lean on him always giving him a smirk, despite him complaining about it messing up his hair.

He loved how when he visited Raphaellas lab, his feet would dangle when he sat on her chair, even if he told her she was too tall to be normal and she laughed at him.

He loved how Marius randomly hugged him, enveloping him entirely, making him disappear completely if he was wearing his coat, regardless of the fact that he would tell Marius he was suffocating.

He loved how he could curl up in Ivys lap and she’d just put her chin on top of his and continue reading, sometimes even out loud if it was something Jonny would be interested in, despite him insisting he wasn’t a little kid, although he expected she’d already seen through him and knew how much he liked her soothing voice.

He loved how The Toy Soldier always called him Little Chap and ruffled his hair, no matter how much he pouted when it did.

He loved how Tim would run up to him and just pick him up in a bridal carry and take him with him to whatever destination and no matter how much Jonny complained about it, he never fought and he always smiled slightly.

He loved how Nastya, who he saw as his little sister, let him snuggle up with her in her pillow nest in the engine room. She would curl around him as the big spoon and held him tight to her chest, making Jonny glow with contentment, in spite of the wiggling.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but all these thing made him feel small and that smallness made him feel cherished, made him feel like he was special and that the others cared for him.

Which is why it came as a hug shock when it all suddenly stopped.

First he noticed that the chair had been lowered when he visited Raphaella in her lab, but she could’ve done that because she needed to be lower to observe something. And Brian, who didn’t help him get his mug, instead just looking at him until he climbed onto the counter, could be because his switch was flipped.

But then Ashes stopped leaning on him and Marius didn’t hug him anymore, Tim asked him to come with him instead of just grabbing him, The Toy Soldier called him Old Sport like it did with Brian and Marius and when he went to Nastya during the night, she turned away from him leaving him hugless or the big spoon.

Confused and hurt he needed to know if it was really everyone, so he went to Ivy. She would know what he needed from her and hug him to make him feel better. So he crawled into her lap and waited.

For a second nothing happened, but then her arms snaked around him and he couldn’t suppress a smile. He’d made the right choice. That smile fell the moment she rested her chin on his shoulder instead of on top of his head and then she’d stayed quiet despite the book being about different guns, which was definitely an interest of Jonny.

He didn’t know what to do with that. Inside him a bubble of unease started to swell as he wondered what he’d done wrong. Did they not love him anymore? Were they mad at him? How could he fix it?

Miserable he burrowed closer in Ivys lap, but didn’t say a thing as he tried not to let the overwhelming feeling make him cry, which was pretty hard.

When he’d calmed down a bit, enough to realize that this was just making him sadder and he needed to cry alone in his bed, he untangled himself and softly said goodbye, completely missing Ivys gentle smile as he rushed out of the library.

Safely in his room he pulled the blanket over him and curled into a ball, soft sniffles and chocked off sobs coming out of his throat while he convinced himself that everyone hated him and he’d done something irredeemable.

He stayed in his room for a long while, until he could think of the sudden change without feeling the need to immediately cry. Then he took a shower and tried to get rid of all the evidence that he’d been crying.

While he’d been crying his eyes out in his room he’d made a plan and he had to get to work if he wanted it to succeed. The plan was quite simple, he would subtly try to get the affection back by hinting at it.

The first person he came across was Marius, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with a drink. He smiled at Jonny and asked: “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good, just tired.” Jonny didn’t even have to fake the yawn. He stumbled forwards and leaned against Marius’ chest as he mumbled: “Could just fall asleep here.”

His hope had been that Marius would steady him, maybe even with two hands and that might turn into a hug. It didn’t work completely.

Marius put one hand on his shoulder to keep him from sagging, but did nothing more than lead him back to his room with some distance between them while he said: “I think you need to go to bed then, Jonny.”

Jonny was pouting inside and missed the warm, fond tone. He allowed Marius to push him into his room and collapsed on his bed, just lying there until he heard Marius close the door with a small chuckle.

Later he would run into Tim, deliberately planned since he’d just shot himself in the foot, and ask if he would be willing to bring him to the med bay. Tim had wide eyes of concern as he nodded, but he did not carry Jonny instead hoisting one arm over his shoulder and letting Jonny lean on him awkwardly as they made their way through the ship.

He sat on Raphaellas desk instead of the chair waiting to see if she’d make a playful comment about his feet, but instead she told him he needed to sit on the chair, because she needed the space.

Brian was wiling to grab something for him, but only after he’d asked and moved out of the way and The Toy Soldier could be persuaded to pet his head after he’d gotten something stuck in his hair and asked it to get it out. Jonny was also still welcome in Nastyas pillow nest and he could just curl up against her back and she wouldn’t protest.

Jonny didn’t really have a plan for Ashes and he thought straight up asking Ivy to read to him was a step too far, so he just brought something to fiddle with and tried not to mind the chin on his shoulder too much.

Still, it wasn’t working and he felt his mechanical heart break with every little rejection.

It’d been months now and it was getting increasingly harder not to cry every time he wasn’t hugged, wasn’t carried, wasn’t petted on the head, just every time he wasn’t loved. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong or how to fix it and the lack of affection was wearing him down.

The bubble of wrongness was building up in his chest and it was only a matter of time until it burst and every little bit of sadness came popping out.

It happened during crew night, something Brian had implemented after he’d been stuck to his chair for a month and no one had noticed, it was just a check up to see if everyone was still there and to fuck around a bit.

Jonny had been looking forward to crew night, hoping that whatever he’d done would’ve been forgiven and he could wiggle between Brian and Raphaella, the two tallest members, unlike last time when he’d ended up on the floor next to Tim.

Alas it wasn’t meant to be, he was too late and there wasn’t any room left between the two of them. There still was a small spot between Marius and the edge of the couch, though, which was still pretty damn good.

Marius was tall enough and the space was so small that it was only natural if Jonny leaned on him a bit and who knew, maybe Marius would put an arm around Jonny to make some space and he could burrow into Marius’ armpit.

But when Jonny had wiggled himself into the spot, Marius told him: “We can also grab you a chair, if you’d like.”

And suddenly Jonny just couldn’t take it anymore. He made eye contact with Marius, his bottom lip wobbling before his face crumbled as he started crying, loud and ugly sobs, shocking everyone.

For a second everyone was frozen then they all rushed to their crying First Mate. Brian knelt in front of him and softly touched Jonnys knee and asked: “Hey, hey, Jonny, it’s okay, everything is alright, just breathe, just breathe, okay. Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

Jonny gasped and took a few shaky breaths, but he fell apart again in a blubbering mess when he wanted tot tell them. He sniffled: “I- I just- why- don’t under- understand- what-”

“Hey, just calm down.” Marius soothed, “What don’t you understand?”

“Why you all don’t love me anymore.” Jonny cried, sobbing loudly again and hugging his knees to his chest.

A stunned silence came over the crew of the Aurora then they all fell over themselves to assure him that of course they still loved him. Concerned Tim exclaimed: “Where in the universe did you get that idea?”

Jonny had calmed down a bit with all their reassurances and glanced at them over his knees, his eyes still wet and soft sniffles coming out of his mouth. He swallowed and said: “You all just suddenly stop- stopped and I don’t- I don’t know what I, what I did or how- how to fix it.”

That didn’t clear anything up at all and Raphaella asked: “What did we stop?”

Biting his lips, Jonny considered not telling them, he’d spend so long grumbling at them about it that I’d would seem weird to just completely turn around, but the empty void in his chest won out. So he whispered: “You all stopped treating me like- like I was small and precious.”

“What?” Ashes said.

“Uhm,” Jonny began embarrassed, “you all just had these little things that made me feel small and suddenly you all sto- stopped.”

His voice broke over the last part and the tears started flowing again. He hated that he was crying so much, but it had all just built up and he couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried.

On the others the realization dawned of what was up with their crew mate. They hadn’t really noticed how upset he’d gotten over it and the outburst had shocked them a bit, so they were glad they’d gotten something to fix. Marius immediately took him into his arms and The Toy Soldier patted his head.

“We’re so sorry, Jonny.” Brian said, “We thought we were helping you.”

That got Jonnys attention and he made a confused questioning noise. Tim explained: “You’re always grumbling about it, so when we noticed it was all of us not just one person, we thought you didn’t like it, so we decided to stop. We wouldn’t have done it, if we knew.”

“It’s not your- your fault.” Jonny mumbled into Marius’ chest, “Sorry for seeming un- ungrateful.”

The arms around him tightened around him and Marius said: “Don’t be sorry about that, we should’ve asked.”

They stayed like that for a while until the sniffles stopped and the tears ran dry.

With Jonny calmed down Raphaella asked the question that she’d been burning to ask ever since he admitted what was wrong: “Why do you like feeling small so much?”

Jonny flushed an adorable shade of red, he spluttered for a bit, before he softly replied: “It makes me feel special and cared for, it’s nice.”

Under other circumstances Jonny would never had admitted that, but emotional exhaustion had lowered his barriers and a voice inside his mind urged him to tell them anything to get them to do the nice things again.

“Ahw, you’re the cutest.” Tim cooed and also hugged Jonny.

He got redder, but that didn’t stop him from leaning into the touch and allowing a smile to creep up his face.

They stayed on the couch just hugging and reassuring Jonny the entire night. Everyone had been pretty spooked by his reaction, they’d never seen him as anything else than strong and happy, so to see him break down like that had shook them to their core. So they lavished him with attention in the hope of never having to witness that again.

Marius didn’t think he would ever forget Jonnys face crumbling at his suggestion or the feeling of him sobbing against his side.

Jonny was always small, with a pudgy face that hadn’t rid itself of all the baby fat yet and a cute smile. The crew of the Aurora had long ago decided that he was their little bastard that needed to be protected. It had been hard to stop and it had been even harder to find out how it had impacted Jonny.

It wasn’t mentioned again, but the other resumed everything even adding a some new stuff. It became more common to see Jonny being carried, for someone to ruffle his hair or to swing him up into a hug out of nowhere startling him or to see him in a lap instead of on a chair.

He’d stopped grumbling about it, allowing a smile on his face instead. It was small smile, but a content and happy smile that made it all worth it.

Yes, Jonny was small, he knew he was small, but with a crew like this how much of a problem is that?

[deaky-disco-queen]

Who You’re Gonna Call? - Breaky Week Day 7

A/N: My final piece for Breaky Week! It’s for the prompt Someone Dies (None of the Boys dies, don’t worry, it’s really fluffy) and I Kind of barely skimmed the prompt but I really wanted to write this so here it is. Also there is a Tiny reference to some gore and murder and a suicide Happening so if that’s triggering for you please be careful or just don’t read it. It’s really minor but just to make sure. 

Can also be read on AO3. 

+++

“Guess what I bought!”

John sat on Brian’s desk, kicking his legs against his chair, grinning in the way that made his eyes crinkle up and showed off his tooth gap. Brian tried very hard not to be endeared by it but failed.

   “What did you buy?” He asked.

   “A spirit box!”

He showed him some weird device that looked like some kind of radio or walkie-talkie of some kind. Brian blinked several times, trying to make sense out of what John had said and what he was seeing.

   “A what?” He then asked.

   “A spirit box! It’s really cool! You can talk to ghosts by scanning through radio stations and they can use the radio waves to string sentences together. In a way.”

Brian groaned in annoyance and buried his face in his hands. John laughed and boxed him in the shoulder playfully, obviously enjoying his pain. He almost regretted saying yes when John had asked him to join his weird ghost hunting show as a co-host but he knew it was John’s passion project and he was his friend first and foremost and he didn’t want him to fail at his job just because Brian didn’t want to risk being awkward around his crush. Also, he didn’t want to imagine how this would have turned out if head asked Roger to be his co-host.

It didn’t stop him from wondering why he even liked John, though.

Nobody frustrated him quite like John. It wasn’t just the fact that he kept arguing with Brian that ghosts were real- they weren’t- or that they seemed to disagree on many other things that were so trivial it shouldn’t matter. Except when it came to John, they did and most of the time, they could be found squabbling about one thing or another. John was also very fond of playing tricks and little pranks on him. It was never anything mean so Brian never got mad at him. It just didn’t made any sense why Brian fell for him of all people.

   “Deaky…” He said, already feeling a headache coming. “You’re not really believing that, are you?”

John shot him a look that told him he did, in fact, believe it and Brian groaned.

   “Alright, sure, I’ll humor you. How does it work?”

   “I’ll show you at the location today. Finish up whatever you have to do and meet me at your car.”

John grinned and jumped off the desk and patted his shoulder when he passed him and Brian sighed and rubbed his temples before he went back to work.

+++

   “Oh, that looks like a haunted castle right there!”

John laughed and spread his arms out as he grinned widely at Brian. Brian was frowning up at the castle. If he had to pick a location for making a horror movie it would probably this one. It was old, with ivy growing over the walls and the towers, the windows were dark and it loomed over them on top of a hill.

   “I hate it already.” Brian said.

He shot the camera John was holding a quick look before adjusting his gear and double-checking the battery stand on his own gear. It would be a long night and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

   “Do you have your sleeping bag?” He asked John.

John gently kicked a bag on the ground in front of him and Brian nodded happily, crossing that from his mental To-Do-List.

   “I can’t wait to meet some ghosts!”

Brian rolled his eyes on him but followed John towards the castle. It was even more creepy inside than outside. It was dirty- unsurprisingly, nobody lived here and the owners probably wanted to play up the whole ‘haunted’ look- and dark with weird portraits, old armors and typical medieval style decor around. And lots of spider webs.

   “This is-” They both started at the same time.

   “-gross as fuck.” Brian finished, wrinkling his nose.

   “-fantastic!” John said, grinning wildly.

They exchanged a quick glance, before breaking into giggles. They made sure to get some good footage of the unsettling hallways until they came to a big ballroom of some kind.

   “Hello, ghosts!” John yelled, cheering when it echoed through the room.

Brian shook his head at him but filmed it anyway, keeping the camera on his face to capture the childish delight on his face.

   “So tell me why we are here, then.”

John’s face lit up visibly and Brian smiled despite thinking this whole thing was kind of stupid. He was cute when he got excited. And if it meant he had to listen to a ghost story and John’s rambling for a while, then so be it. Brian sat down on the windowsill and waited until John had set up their tripod. Their legs brushed together when he sat down next to him.

   “Alright! Welcome to another episode of Unsolved! Today we are here in the Thrawcliff Castle where some extremely fucked up shit happened and we will try and get some ghosts to tell us more about it!”

He smiled at Brian before he went off about the history of the castle. Apparently, some 500-ish years ago the son of a rich family that owned the castle started hearing voices and developed violent tendencies that ended with him murdering his three siblings and his parents, only to commit suicide afterwards. It was a unsettling and sad story but once John got to the part where he talked about people feeling presences and apparitions, weird happenstances and whatnot, Brian felt the need to roll his eyes.

He let John talk, not feeling like he had anything but skepticism to add and while that was the whole reason he was here in the first place, he didn’t want to dampen John’s fun just yet. Not that he would, John seemed to not give a shit whether Brian was a fan of a location or not, still excited and determined to find a ghost. Or proof of a ghost.

   “This is going to be fun!”

   “Well, at least you can see the stars very well tonight.” Brian added, a smile tugging on his lips.

   “Stars and ghosts, we’re in for an amazing night!”

   “No ghosts, just stars, Deaky.”

John grinned at him, knocking their shoulders together, not even bothered by his lacking enthusiasm. He was probably used to it already, they have been doing this for a while now, after all.

   “Why not both? They are not mutually exclusive.”

   “Ghosts don’t exists, stars do.”

   “How do you know?”

Brian groaned loudly.

+++

They decided to test John’s spirit box thing on top of the tallest tower.

It was a horrible loud, piercing noise and Brian physically flinched back when he heard it for the first time and it didn’t get better with time. Brian hated it. He didn’t think he could hate it any more than being in a unsettling place in the dark and sleeping there but he was proven wrong. John loved to do that and he managed it again.

   “It switches through radio channels so ghosts can string words together to talk to us.” John explained to him.

Brian only barely resisted the urge to cover his ears.

   “Let’s go and ask the ghosts some questions, why don’t we?”

It was stupid. John was just talking to static with no answers- the unintelligible stuff- didn’t count because it wasn’t words- but he was ecstatic about the whole thing and kept asking questions. Brian had no idea how he did not get frustrated by getting nothing concrete in return over and over again.

   “Isn’t that amazing?” John asked.

   “Amazingly annoying.”

John rolled his eyes at him.

   “Come on, let’s do solo investigations!”

+++

The thing was, Brian didn’t believe in ghosts. He was a man of science and ghosts just didn’t seem like a plausible thing to him. Aliens, sure, space was just too big for them to be the only intelligent life form out there but ghosts? He couldn’t believe in it no matter how many different theories John proposed to him. None of the evidence convinced him enough to believe in it.

But Brian was still very afraid. Not because of ghosts, because that was stupid, but because there were so many other things to be afraid of. Ghosts may not scare him but potential injuries while being far away from medical help, getting an infection from the filthy surroundings and meeting some random serial killer sure did. The last one wasn’t really as likely as the others but he was still afraid of somebody lurking in the shadows of wherever they were, just waiting to get a chance to rob him or whatever. People were way scarier than ghosts.

So he hated the solo investigations because it was scary to be alone in a dark hallway in a creepy castle.

   “God, fuck, okay. This is still stupid but here we go: Hello, ghosts.”

He walked down the hallway, his flashlight shaking slightly.

Their fans found it hilarious that the skeptic of all people tended to get the most scared. Brian liked to think it was because he had common sense. John would happily invite a demon to possess him if it let him prove their existence. And Brian could respect that dedication. He just wished it wasn’t ghosts and demons and all of these kinds of things John was so obsessed with. It would save him so much trouble.

   “Damn you, John.”

He slowly made his way down the stairs into the dungeon- because of course all the gory things happened in the dungeon and many gory and downright disgusting things had happened here if John had been telling the truth- and he started to question his life choices again.

   “If there is anyone in here with me, please speak up.”

Of course there was only silence and Brian sighed.

   “Please don’t make me use the stupid box. Just talk to me so we can call it a day.”

There was still no answer and Brian sighed again, louder this time, and set down the spirit box and turned it on, flinching at the ugly sound it made. He tried to get some ghosts to talk to him but- unsurprisingly- got no response and left the dungeon as soon as John called him to tell him his ten minutes were up.

   “How was it? You scared? Met a ghost? Or a serial killer? Maybe a weirdo in a trenchcoat?”

   “Stop making fun of it and get us a ghost, I want to leave.”

John laughed and made his way downstairs while Brian set up their sleeping bags in the ballroom. He could hear John yelling at the ghosts- air-, demanding them to show themselves and talk to him. He was mercilessly taunting him and Brian could never understand how John could believe in them and yet be so incredible fearless. He read all these stories about them doing terrible things and causing violence and stuff and yet he didn’t seem to be scared at all. Or his way of dealing with being scared was cursing ghosts out.

After a while, it grew quiet and Brian knew John had finished his private investigation and waited for him to come back.

   “Find anything?” Brian asked.

   “Oh, I got some really interesting answers! I’ll show you later. Are you ready to go to sleep?”

+++

Brian could never sleep at locations and today wasn’t an exception. It was cold and uncomfortable and he was still afraid someone with bad intentions was going to show up. He just lay in the dark, turned away from John to see the door to the room which probably didn’t help his paranoia much.

   “Can’t sleep?” John asked quietly.

   “You know I can’t.”

He could hear John shift behind him and then he was kicked in the back until he turned around to face him. John’s face was barely visible in the darkness but he could make out his silhouette faintly.

   “Nothing is going to happen to us. No bad people will come for us. No one but us and the ghosts here. And since you don’t believe in those, you’re good.”

   “I know that.” Brian whispered. “It’s called an irrational fear for a reason.”

John chuckled softly and Brian hit him blindly in the chest, grinning satisfied when he let out a low groan.

   “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from any ghosts and serial killers. I promise.”

It didn’t really calm Brian in any way but it was a nice sentiment. He didn’t have to tell John that- he knew that- and so he didn’t and just let the silence between them drag on.

   “Oh for fucks sake, c’mere.”

   “What?”

Before getting an answer, John unzipped his sleeping bag and reached for him, pulling Brian close. John was way stronger than he looked.

   “Let’s zip us together.”

Brian tried to argue but it was a weak attempt and he held the flashlight so John could make their two sleeping bags in on big one. Then, he forced him to lie down facing away from the door, his head resting on John’s arm and their legs tangled together. His nose was almost touching his shoulder and Brian felt himself blush.

This wasn’t what normal friends did, was it? Though, normal friends wouldn’t go ghost hunting together either so was he really in any position to judge? John might not be the most touchy-feely guy but they had been friends for years now and he didn’t mind Roger or Freddie being all over him.

   “Are you comfortable?”

Brian nodded despite it being a bit of a lie. He didn’t know where he was supposed to put his hands so they were just awkwardly laying between them. John didn’t seem to have this kind of problem, easily wrapping his arm around Brian’s waist.

   “Good, then sleep. I’ll fight any evil people trying to get to us.”

   “You’re ridiculous.” Brian said.

   “No, just in love with you.”

Brian’s breath got caught in his chest. John’s bravery floored him over and over again. Of course he had no issues just confessing his love like this, as if it was nothing, as if he had nothing to fear, nothing to lose. Sometimes he wished he had even half of this bravery. But even now, he could not say anything even though he really wanted to.

   “It’s okay, Bri, you can confess your crush tomorrow. Maybe over brunch?”

   “Brunch sounds nice.” Brian choked out.

John hummed satisfied and pressed a short kiss into Brian’s hair.

   “Great, looking forward to it.”

[tarnishedhalo]

Ugh Hunter & Riley for that broship meme :D

This Meme|Always Accepting

♡ send me a ship and i’ll tell you…♡

when they go camping, who reads the map wrong and gets them lost:

There’s that moment between sleep and wakefulness at 0:400 hrs that has Riley alternately praying for death and wondering who the fuck would call him at this hour. He gropes in the dark before Johnny Cash can wake his sleeping girlfriend. Unlocking his phone and blearily checking the number, he stifles a curse and carefully sits up.

Much as he hates to, he doesn’t try to get his legs under himself so to speak and instead settles in the one piece of furniture he hates, before pushing himself into the next room.

Calls the number back, and just…listens. There’s a few ‘uh-huhs’ and ‘affirmatives’ in there. But for as little noise as he makes, she wakes up anyway.

“Andrew?” And God, how he’s going miss waking up next to that sleep-rumpled voice of hers. “Andy, what’s wrong?”“Hey, Accoushla,” he says and awkwardly invites her to sit in his lap. He hates himself for what he’s about to say, how easily the lie comes. “So…ah… that was my Uncle Phil. He’s sending someone over to pick me up. I guess my cousin Hunter went on a camping trip and my uncle’s worried because he hasn’t heard from him in a few days. Asked me to go check on him up at the family cabin. I’d invite you to go, but with Noah….well. Ya know. Also, cell reception up there’s kind of shitty, so if you don’t hear from me while I’m gone, know I’ll be missing you.”

“Of course. Family’s important.” She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses his brow. Doesn’t even ask why she’s never heard of either man before.

“To me he is.”

who would be a king/queen and who would be a knight:

“Listen – strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the mas-”“Shut up, mate.”

Riley grins. “-masses, not some farcical aquatic ceremony.”

The side-glance Hunter throws his way would have peeled paint. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, his knee is bouncing and his expression is inscrutable, even to Riley in the dim lights. His mind is on the mission and he’s taking it far more seriously than Andy feels is necessary. And that’s really where the two men are vastly different. Hunter’s usually all charm and tired smiles and Riley’s usually the one whose interest in things only extends as far as the bottom of his glass.

But at 35,000 the Brit becomes all business. Maybe it’s the mission, maybe it’s that he doesn’t like flying. Riley doesn’t really know and he’s trying to make light of the situation. He can do this all day, after all and maybe his mood is boosted because they are flying.

“….I mean, if I went around sayin’ I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away!”

Hunter tries to shoulder-chuck him but the harness keeps him in place and gives him only so much room. “You really are an arsehole, aren’t you.”“Yeah. But what does that make you?”Hunter grins. “I am Arthur. King of the Britains.”

who is the superhero and who is the sidekick:

“45.” Hunter sat on the ground, knees raised to his chest and arms loosely hugging them, hands wrapped around a water bottle.“47.” Riley raised a brow, still laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.“First two didn’t count.”“Even so…it’s a tie.”And so it went. Mile for mile they ran. Full battle-rattle. Later, they’d say uphill both ways. Their shot patterns were identical. Riley edged the Brit out on the buddy-carry… “If you didn’t weigh the same as a mini-Cooper…”But Hunter took the belly crawl. “S’cheatin’ that is. I’m a half leg down.”“Still lost.”

A week later, they’re at the bar and still trying to work out which one of them was harder-core. They’d moved from PT to other skills, trivia to board games but the games, however competitive they were, came out in a dead heat.“You two still at this?” Brian asks as he takes the third seat. “Bitches, please. We all know…I’m Batman, Junior here is Robin and you, Drewski….lets just call you Alfred.”Beth cleared her throat, setting down a tray of Irish nachos.In unison, they all agreed on one thing. “Poison Ivy.”

who enjoys watching romanic comedies more and who would rather watch bee movie™ on repeat:

“This? Again?”“Fuck you. It’s my favourite movie.”Hunter’s just about to give him another ration of shit when certain things come to his attention. Specifically, the way Riley’s sitting. There’s a cushion at the small of his back, and his leg is bent at an odd angle. The planes of his face are hard and a little waxen and his eyes are dilated in such a specific way that Hunter knows he’s a little high. There’s also the fact that his friend’s gaze can’t seem to track anything, which is ridiculous.

It’s pain and on nights like these, no sleep will be had and nothing will mollify the ache in Riley’s bones. So Hunter does the only thing he can do. He helps himself in the kitchen and makes a batch of curry-dusted popcorn. Sits down on the couch and makes himself comfortable.

He sets the bowl between them within easy reach and takes the offered bottle of beer. “Ta. Really was Kilmer’s defining role, wasn’t it?”“You’re still not my Hungarian devil.”“A fact I will just have to live with.”

who prefers puppies and who prefers kittens:

Hunter watches Riley through the window, specifically how he takes the fall and lands on his side, football tucked into his side as he curls around it almost protectively. Noah’s standing over his father in triumph at having tackled the man’s long legs. A golden retriever puppy dances and gambols around them, barking a little high-pitched sound more ears and enthusiasm than real grace. Of the boy and the puppy, Hunter’s sure they’ll grow into their paws. And something bittersweet creeps up on him. He’d wondered, once upon a time, what kind of father he’d have made. And he comforts himself by saying he’d have been shite at it, and is glad that he and Bobbi didn’t have that as a bone of contention between them.He’s not sure how long he was standing there, or what the expression was on his face because the glass doesn’t reflect it or because he just hadn’t noticed but eventually an arm slips around his waist and a slender, long fingered hand curls around his bicep.“You should go out there and save my husband. He looks like he needs all the help he can get.” 

He looks down and smiles, maybe wistfully, at Seren. “Yeah?”Riley’s wife smiles back, her expression soft. “Yeah. Besides, what’s a friendly tag game without Uncle Hunter evening the score?”“I can’t be held responsible if I make him look bad.”“And that’s exactly why I’m sending you into the backyard. Knock a little wind out of his sails. You going to stay for dinner?”“I’d love to, but my cat gets rather angry when I’m late.”

who knits the ugly sweater for the other:

“Put it the fuck on and try to look happy.”

“But…look at it, Who does she think I am, Captain Britain?!”“She went through a lot of trouble to make it for you.”Anyone else, and the jumper would have gone straight into the donation bin where others of its kind often went to die a lonely, second-hand death. The too-bright green for the tree made his eyes ache, and the lines of the Union Jack behind it were just a little off kilter. And where did she even find tinsel yarn?“You owe me one, Riley.”“I always do. But at least it spares her feelings.”Anyone else but Beth and he wouldn’t have cared so much. “Next year, it’s going to be Mexico and not New York.”“You keep saying that. Maybe some day it’ll be true.”

which one can cook and which one can’t even make a bowl of cereal:It’s certainly not that Hunter couldn’t cook, if he wanted to. He just didn’t have the time and inclination that Riley seems to have. And it gets the other up and out of his whiskey-fog for an hour, sometimes more. And if it satisfies some need to treat him like a stray, then…there’s worse things to be.

[schrijverr]

Story of my Life

How Ivy got on Aurora in ancient Greece with the help of the future that is also the now.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Wanings: burning of a building and Ivys trauma. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~~

“Ashes, I swear to god if you accidentally light this library on fire I will make sure I kill you in such a way that it takes you a decade to regenerate and don’t think I haven’t done research on how to do that.” Ivy threatened as they made their ways through the halls of an ancient library.

Of course it wasn’t currently ancient, but later it would be described like that and the Mechanisms knew that, hence why it was referred to as such.

Ashes wasn’t even sure why they’d come, dusty boring papyrus scrolls or tablets weren’t really their scene and Ivy could be scary. They would much rather be with Jonny and Tim, who had been allowed to inspect the camps of the legion laying siege to the city.

Of course, Brian and Nastya had made rules for the two before they set them free. No guns, no steampunk outfits, no English and not together, but at least it would be fun.

Maybe they had silently hoped Ivy would let them sneak off to have some fun, but alas the smaller archivist had kept a close eye on them and scolded them whenever they had tried, leaving them here bored in a library while they could be committing arson.

They sighed and focused back on Ivy, who was seamlessly navigating the twisting corridors of the library. They asked: “Is it a library power or something that you know the way here, or what?”

“Oh, no, I know it from my dreams.” Ivy responded, more focused on the literature in front of her than what she or Ashes had just said.

“A dream?” they repeated, voice a bit higher.

“Yes, a dream, I just- oh.” Ivy now too realized her confession.

Her face remained impassive as she hummed and looked around silently. When nothing else came after that Ashes said: “It’s that it? Just an oh, nothing more?”

“I am thinking.”

“Oh that’s a surprise.”

“Shut up.”

Ashes shut up to let Ivy think. When it took a while, they started flicking their lighter and letting their gaze drift over a to a reading area, where a dark-clad man with long red hair tried to convince a plump man with white hair and a white robe to leave.

Their attention was snapped back to Ivy, who said: “I think I understand why I wanted to visit this place now, I am connected to the library and I wanted to save some of it.”

“That makes it sound like it’s gonna be destroyed.” Ashes replied, starting to like where this was going more and more.

Ivy glared at them and walked away, starting to take as many scrolls as she could carry. When Ashes didn’t follow to do the same, she turned back to them and said: “Aren’t you going to help? You got those big strong arms, make them useful for a change.”

“Hey, don’t complement and reprimand me in the same sentence.” Ashes frowned as they started to help.

They got ignored by Ivy, who walked on, suddenly stopping making Ashes bump into her. They were about to ask indignantly why Ivy had stopped, but the archivist was quicker, holding up her finger to indicate they should be quiet.

“What’s going on?” Ashes whispered, suddenly on high alert.

“You have to stay calm and promise not to freak, okay?” Ivy whispered back.

“Okay, sure, what is it?”

“I think I just saw Carmilla walk by.”

A moment of silence hung between them, Ashes quickly registered the information and put it in a box in their mind labeled ‘do not interact’ before they said: “Well, then I think Jonny is going to have a whack time, because I faintly recall him telling me he saw himself, right around when you came aboard.”

“Jikes.” Ivy replied, checking around the corner again, before continuing collecting scrolls.

“You’re not gonna follow her?” Ashes asked, “Don’t you want to see, want to remember?”

“From what I have gathered it was not very pleasant and I do not think seeing it will help me, Ashes.” she said.

“Oh, come on, I’m not allowed to fight, not allowed to burn down the library and now I’m not even allowed to see baby Ivy.” Ashes whined.

Ivy gave them a look and deadpanned: “Not a baby, I will look exactly the same.”

“Please, it’ll be fun. We can make sure you have fun trauma.” Ashes pleaded.

“I don’t need “fun” trauma, Ashes, what I need is for you to carry more scrolls and make sure we get out when this whole thing burns down.”

“It’s going to burn down?”

Ivy took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check, then strained yet calmly she said: “Yes, it is and if you behave you get to help set it alight, okay?”

“And I get to see baby Ivy?” Ashes tried to push their luck.

“Maybe, if you’re good.” Ivy decided to give up on arguing and just pushed some scrolls into their arms as she attempted to remember more of her dreams in order to find out what the narrative wanted from her here.

It seemed it worked, because Ashes followed her, paying more attention than before and with that giving Ivy the peace to think. She knew this place was burning down and she knew she was here and would be no more after tonight.

So now what?

Her feet were going somewhere without her permission and her hands were taking scrolls without her looking too much, like her limbs knew what to do more than she did.

As they were walking Ashes had picked up a bag to store the scrolls and now had their hands free as they were nervously flicking their light on and off. In the distance the two could hear voices talking and without even looking at each other they hurried down the hall to check.

“I need you to come with me, it is important. You need to be part of the story.” a familiar voice said, not directed at them.

A younger and equally familiar voice replied: “Why would I trust you, I am perfectly fine here. I’m not part of anything, leave me alone.”

The Ashes next to immortal Ivy shifted uncomfortably and whispered: “I really want to set something on fire right now, and I mean more than usual.”

“Do it.”

“What?”

“Do it. The stories need me there too and past me needs a reason to go, so do it.”

“Oh, hell yes.” Ashes cheered softly, immediately setting to work on some timber, making Ivy cringe when they grabbed a few papyrus scrolls for it.

It took Ashes about ten minutes to set up a construction that would light up multiple parts of the building at once. They were skilled, Ivy had to give them that. Meanwhile old Ivy was still arguing with Carmilla.

Carmilla tried to point out the fires and younger Ivy started to try and save some of the scrolls, burning her hands in the process. She got pulled away by Carmilla, but right at that moment a bit of the ceiling came loose, falling down and crushing Ivy. Carmilla sighed and said to herself: “And here I really hoped we could avoid a mess this time.”

Ashes and Ivy watched the two leave Ivy slung over Carmillas shoulder. The black-clad man from before also walked passed, they heard him say to his companion: “No, this wasn’t my side, angel.”

Then they disappeared out of sight as well. When they deemed it safe Ashes turned to Ivy and said: “Uhm, I guess sorry for killing you.”

Ivy shrugged and replied: “I have a better library now.”

That made Ashes smile, before they pulled Ivy out. She noted how they were extra careful with the bag as they did so, which made Ivy smile as well.

Outside in the city it was chaos, probably Tim and Jonny, who were not following the rules set for them. They hurried through streets back to where Aurora was, meeting Jonny and Tim at one point, both wearing matching grins.

“Guess what we saw.” Jonny yelled when he saw them.

“A Jonny look-alike!” Tim answered before they could, earning a glare from Jonny himself.

Ashes and Ivy shared a look and collectively decided to not tell them that it was actually just Jonny, but then younger. They wanted to get off this planet, a new story was already calling them.