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romanoffsbish · 2 years ago

Text

With Love

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Wrote this for a dear one who just so happens to be sick at the moment, but since she’s in the UK all I could offer was this comfort fic 🤷🏼‍♀️❤️

I promise the dead mom fic is next 🤪

You'd been in denial about it, I mean it's Summer for Christ's sakes, who the hell gets a cold in the Summer...?

You'd woken up at five this morning—the first of many red flags really—with a pounding head, and a touch of congestion in your chest. The only thing to bring you comfort was the beauty beside you—Scarlett, was peacefully sleeping, perfect pouty lips smushed against her pillow, adorable snores filling the space between you.

The peace was short lived as your stomach began to turn and you gently exited the bed before running off to the restroom where you spent the next almost hour sat down with the tiny wastebasket in arms reach whenever a wave of nausea rolled through, the threat of vomiting imminent, but fortunately for you they never amount to more than the occasional surge of bile in your throat that you manage to choke back down.

��————

Maybe it was the takeout from last night, but seeing as how Scarlett wasn't hot on your tails you'd known better than to truly believe it. You're stubborn though, so you'll live in the fantasy for as long as the approaching illness takes to fully claim your body.

After an uncomfortably long time sat atop the toilet you quietly left the room, time now reading 6:30AM, and you knew your lover would be up soon so you made your way downstairs to fix her food to go since she'd received a call rather late last night, something about a scene reshoot on the film she'd just wrapped on.

Even though you "weren't" sick you still took every precaution possible anyways, you wore a disposable mask from the pack that now naturally sits in your house, telling yourself it was to keep the 'food poisoning' induced nausea at bay, but who were you fooling...

You'd also used a pair of gloves while cooking up some chicken to add to the salad you'd just prepared for your lover, because deep down you'd refused to risk getting her sick if your other hunch was off the mark. Then as a true New Yorker would you added a thick layer of schmear to her bagel, nearly vomiting at the normally delectable food, and settled it in a paper towel beside her to go flask of coffee and the lunchbox full of snacks and her salad.

In order to ensure Scarlett stays none the wiser to your increasingly sickly state you kept your back to the staircase, and upon hearing her descending you took a sizable gulp of your warm tea, strategically gargling it over your vocal chords to help mask your scratchy throat for the fleeting moment you'd engage with her.

"Good morning honey." Scarlett aimlessly greets your back while rushing to collect her clutch and keys from their designated zones.

"Morning my love, breakfast and lunch are ready for you on the counter." You cheerily greet back in a level tone, internally cheering because in her distracted state she'd failed to hear the unusual rasp forcefully slipping in between your words.

"Ooh, thank you so much baby! You always take such good care of me, I'll be home by four and then we can have our day together as promised, I love you!" She enthusiastically states, you catch her bright smile as she runs out of the front door like she was being chased.

You lightly shake your head at her rush, holding back a pained groan as to not give yourself away. It was just funny, you wife always left in a rush, even when leaving hours before she was expected—much like today. She wasn't even due to be there until 10am, but you know she enjoys her time to decompress in her trailer before jumping into the mindset of her character of that day.

"I love you too..." You shouted back at her retreating form, somewhat grateful that the crack was easily explainable as your voice was being elevated.

It's not that you didn't want Scarlett here, because if anything that was all you found yourself wanting. However much you needed her here, you knew she was needed elsewhere. You knew that if you'd asked her she would have dropped everything for you in a heartbeat, but you didn't feel it was fair to ask of her.

It's only eight hours, you will survive...

As soon as you had heard the car peeling out of the driveway though your shoulders slumped, happy mask falling to be replaced by a far more grumpy one. Begrudgingly you'd made your way over to the couch to wrap up in a fluffy blanket—another red flag—since it was already approaching 83*F(28.3*C😉).

Eyes fluttering shut against your will as a sudden wave of exhaustion plagued your body, soon to be disturbed as you were assaulted by a spell of coughing, followed by wheezing, and to top it all off sneezing before you could even remove the uncomfortable mask you'd all but forgotten about upon your face.

Choosing to ignore the grumbling of your stomach in fear of the later repercussions you allowed your unnaturally sore body to melt against the couch, and your eyes shut once and for all so that you could take the nap your body craved—who knew food poisoning took this much out of a person...

—

Scarlett smiled when she opened her lunchbox, first thing she noticed was the cute post it atop all of the food you packed; reading it while popping a chilled green grape into her mouth she audibly awed at the sweet message.

"My love, did you know waking up next to you is my absolute favorite part of my mornings? Second being our cuddles, hurry home so that we can make up for them, and make sure you eat all your fruits and veggies—I love you. 💋"

She frowns though at the realization of what she'd lost, and her brain racks with a reason for why she'd missed them in the first place. Because she would've gladly been 'late' ten times over for just even five minutes in your arms, and then she starts to wonder what you were doing up anyways.

Most mornings it took an act of congress to move you, but somehow you were up and now an uneasiness had filled her. There was no goodbye kiss, no bear hug, not even a look spared in her general direction, and if she thought something was up before, then now she knew it to be true when she unlocked her phone to see no messages from you.

She anxiously dug into her salad while sending you off a message, mindlessly scrolling through her emails—retaining nothing as she anxiously awaited your response, but after ten painfully long minutes of remaining on delivered her heart sunk into her stomach at the thought of something being genuinely wrong with you.

She'd resolved to pulling up her security camera apps to settle her anxiety, because surely if something was wrong you'd call her. First she viewed the side yard in hopes that you were just tending to the garden like you do most mornings while talking to Lizzie. The yard was empty though, so she checked the backyard to see the pool was equally as empty. Porch swing was also a pointless search, and after checking most rooms to find them empty she was losing hope until she spotted a sudden light illuminate the living room as the bathroom door opened.

"Bingo.." She cheered, but then her face dropped when she saw you in a sweatsuit, eyes tracking your sluggish form and keying in on the way your sleeve lifted up to wipe at your mouth before you literally threw yourself onto the cold floors of the kitchen.

She recognized the pattern as clear as day—you were sick, and now she felt foolish for having not even noticed your clear signs of deceitful behavior this morning. Fortunately for her the scene reshoot had actually been a breeze, and now she was sticking around for boring meetings about far off press junkets that quite honestly could be sent off in an email, or on a much later date over zoom.

With a quickness she'd packed up her belongings, texted the director that she was "sorry for the inconvenience" but she is sadly needed elsewhere, then she ignored your past due—lie—response:

"Of course I'm fine honey, was just gardening."

This part of you had to be her least favorite, always so willing to lie about your well-being in favor of her job, as if you were somehow less important. The insecurities you still feel to this day in her love for you over her acting career truly stings, but she can't blame your brain's curiosity. Even though she also finds it endearing enough to say the least how much you care for her career, she finds it to be far more annoying when it gets in the way of her ability to care for you—her favorite thing to do.

You've always been the one to hold everything down for her by being her shoulder to cry on; a pinnacle of sound advice whenever the media clouded her mind; her personal chef that provided her with three square meals and an array of snacks; the woman who knew how to love her right—in every which way possible.

Come hell or high water she knew she could count on you, and all she ever wanted was to be able to be that same person for you, so she decides that's exactly what she's going to be while entering the massive supermarket.

—

Though you'd willed it to be food poisoning you knew it wasn't the case when your temperature was registering as a whopping 101*F(38.3*C)

"Fucking hell, it is freezing..." You groaned from the cool kitchen floor, clearly in a state where regulating your body temperature was impossible.

Your skin was hot to the touch, burning up as if you'd just gotten back from a visit to hell itself; though your body contradicted your forehead, trembling vigorously as if you'd been dropped off in the snowy tundra's of Antarctica.

Lola, your Dalmatian puppy, was sat beside her timed feeding bowl with a tilted head, patiently waiting for her lunch serving to drop down. Even with your eyes closed you could feel she was silently judging you, and deep down you didn't blame her, but in the moment...

"Mind your business..." You whined at your precious baby, mind clouded by illness, but it seemed to work as she looked away.

Definitely had nothing to do with the kibbles.

With every last bit of strength you had left in your body you pushed up off the floor, then slowly but surely you'd lifted yourself to your feet and made your way into the kitchen. Attempting to find something to eat ended just as quickly as it had begun for you, everything you touched brought you close to vomiting, and you really didn't want to do that again.

Three saltine crackers, a tall glass of orange juice, and one grape later you'd returned to the couch after popping a couple Tylenol's. Cuddling a bottle of water close to your chest you'd then pulled two blankets over your entire body and snuggled down deep into the cushions; pretending the warmth consuming you'd been that of your wife's body helped. Slowly but surely the never ending bouts of exhaustion won you over again, and you dreamt of your wife's smiling face.

—

Scarlett entered the house as the clock read out 12:30pm, the eery silence she was met with had made her shiver, normally you'd be dancing around the house or reading with the TV on.

Gorgeous green eyes were quick to scan the room while she settled everything she deemed necessary for your recovery onto the counters.

It wasn't that hard to find you, the lump of blankets on the couch very much out of place, coupled with the littering of used tissues and empty bottles of water

She kicked off her heels then quietly made her way towards you. Gentle hands peeled the blankets from your body to reveal your sweaty form, your skins natural glow no longer there.

"Oh my sweet girl, I wish you wouldn't have tried to hide this from me..." She whispers as her lips lightly press to your forehead, not really considering the downsides to such a kiss.

"Shit, honey, you're burning up..."

Your eyes slowly fluttered open at the sound of her voice.

"Scar?" You whimper, no longer able to contain your overwhelming feelings as the sickness had made you overly vulnerable.

"I'm here honey..." She coos, hand pushing your hair off your sticky forehead.

Scarlett gently sits you up, hands falling to the hem of your sweatshirt, and yours quickly fall atop hers to stop her motions.

"Now, honey, you know we have to break the fever..." She chastises you, hands rotating to grab ahold of yours before she resettles them at your sides.

"Scar, why are you home?" You ask, bleary eyes finally adjusting to take notice of the time.

"My beautiful wife is sick, there's no place else I'd rather be..."

"But you—."

"Save your energy honey, nothing you say changes our reality, now arms up buttercup."

You certainly didn't want to fight, desperate for her comfort you did as you were told.

"Good girl... Now, I'm going to run you a cool bath while you take a minute to wake all the way up."

Scarlett leaned in to peck your lips but you lazily shifted away.

"Scar, I don't want to get you sick..."

"I don't care..." She quips, fingers gently scratching at your scalp while her lips meet yours and you sigh appreciatively.

Scarlett rolled her eyes when she saw you pulling a blanket back over your body, but she let it be for the time being; running up the stairs to start your bath she poured some epsom salts in, and ran her hand through the water until she felt it was finally tepid.

"I thought I said wake up..." She lightly chuckles as she sees your eyes have closed.

" 'M awake." You mumbled, right eye peeping open to stare at the gorgeous woman overlooking you.

Scarlett's arms lifted you up off the couch, holding you tightly against her body since you'd hadn't the strength to hold yourself up. With a few quick movements she has settled your naked body into the water, strong arms holding you down when you try to jump back out.

"Scar, it's cold..." You whimper, teeth chattering as you do and her eyes drip with sympathy, but her stance never wavers.

"I know angel, but we have to do this, just until your temperature drops..." She reasons, and you stop squirming when she hits you with the mom glare.

After she knew you wouldn't budge she'd ran down the stairs to throw some soup into the crockpot, sending another text off to Lizzie to thank her for the vamped up chicken noodle soup that was overloaded with garlic, and homegrown vegetables that were good for the mind, body and soul.

She returned to the bedroom with a bag, unloading it quickly before peeking into the bathroom to see you reaching for your soap. Scarlett groaned at the sight of you trying to tend to yourself, feet moving quickly so that she could stop you and do it all herself. You'd pouted at her scolding, but accepted the help nonetheless, truly enjoying every single minute she spent with her hands caring for you.

Once your temperature had dropped she pulled your tired body from the tub, plush robe tightly wrapped around you, lips kissing over the entirety of your face to pull a few croaky giggles from you before she carried you to the bed. Hands working over your sore muscles with a vanilla—rose scented lotion, her eyes lovingly observing your satisfaction as it shows through the way your face twitches, and body settles against the mattress. Her heart swells with every appreciative groan, and she does her best to draw the experience out as long as possible.

"Okay angel, I'm going to put you in sleeping shorts and a tank top, then I'll allow you the use of one thin blanket."

You hum appreciatively, blanket now loosely wrapped around your shoulders, and a satisfied smile blankets your face.

"I'll be right back..."

"No..." You whimper, hands cling to her shirt, and she melts at your unusually clingy state, maybe even a bit too excited that you're sick.

"I have to get your medicine, and the soup."

"No soup..." You grumble, head shaking from side to side as you lean your forehead against her abdomen.

"Honey, you have to eat..."

Her hands run through your damp hair, lightly brushing out the remaining knots as your scratchy voice finally responds.

"When I woke up I thought I had food poisoning Scar, I don't actually want it."

"Glad to see you're feeling better..." She playfully groans, hand lightly slapping your shoulder, and you giggle.

"For your information it's from Lizzie, and if it wasn't it would've been a can, so either way you would've been fine."

Scarlett returns quickly—almost inhumanly, large tray in her hands with two bowls of soup, and what appears to be the entirety of a pharmacy and the Walmart drinks section.

"Before you eat I have some pills for you, here's a Tylenol for your headache, and some nyquil for just about everything else."

You throw the pill cup back, followed up by a grainy bottle of water that you soon learn is poorly dissolved emergenc, and as per her instructions you chug the entirety of it down. Before you could think to lift the spoon she's already done it, blowing on the contents to ensure it's cool enough before she lifts it to your lips.

"Scar, I'm not a baby, I can feed myself..."

"Well you're my baby.. So no you can't, I'll be doing it, now lean back and relax."

"Yes ma'am..."

She sends you a warning glare, but there's no real heat behind it as she continues to feed you, and your heart warms at the sight of her being so happy to be doing this. Very short lived moment of bliss though as you start to violently cough after a particularly large bite. The tray is abandoned to the floor while Scar's hands meet your back to pat, and rub soothingly until the coughing fit is over.

"No more soup." She reasons, and you nod in agreement, honestly too tired to keep eating anyways.

You'd attempted to bury your face into her chest but she'd lifted an unsuspected bottle to your lips instead.

"Drink up honey, then we can lay down to watch any movie you wish."

Without even seeing the bottle you know it's pedialyte, and against your will you chug the salty drink down, then dramatically throw your body back onto the bed to make your message clear.

"You'd think it was 10pm..." She teases, movements quick to clean up the bed so that she could finally lay down to hold you close.

"Be nice to me, I'm sick..."

She rolled her eyes at your whining, then she dimmed the lights, turned your favorite flick on the TV with the volume somewhere in the 20's, and settled into her spot besides you.

"Come here honey..."

Sluggishly you'd crawled across the bed, face settling atop her chest, her rhythmic heartbeat soothing you, and her hand did the same as it ran up and down your arm.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick angel?"

"I didn't want to disrupt your work."

"Baby, you're not disrupting anything by being sick, work isn't my top priority—you are."

"I'm a big girl, I could handle a few hours of being sick on my own."

"Yeah, and I could make my own lunch, but I know how much you love to do it for me.."

"No, you really couldn't.."

"Jesus, you burn a pot of water once and suddenly you're labeled inept..."

…

"But seriously angel, I want to take care of you always, in sickness and in health meant something to me when I said 'I do.'"

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, but next time just tell me, I'd drop anything for you..."

"I love you Scarlett." You tiredly slur against her shirt, hands securely wrapped around her body as you feel your body giving out.

"I love you too Y/N."

Her hands never stop their ministrations, even well after you'd drifted off to sleep atop of her. She'd chosen to remain awake for a bit to enjoy in the peaceful moment, but also to ensure that you were truly fine; paying close attention to your breathing, as well as making sure your temperature remained normal.

Eventually she was content with your state, so she'd set a timer on her phone to know when exactly the medication needed to be given to you again, then she turned to TV up to drown out your sickly—obnoxious snoring so that she too could engage in some blissful sleep...

———————————————

3,544 Words

Tagged it under a singular Natasha tag

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥺

#scarlett johansson x you #scarlett x fem!reader #scarlett x reader #scarlett x you #scarlett x y/n #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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koushou · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! could u do a oneshot for fem!mechanic!reader x childe, zhongli & albedo separately? if u only do one character per request, then i'd prefer childe - also i get the term 'mechanic' is kinda vague so i guess a reader who invents and repairs things could be another way to word it

pairings : childe, zhongli, albedo x f!mechanic!reader (separate)

{fluff, lots of crack}

warnings : none !

wc : 1.3k

a/n : i'm so so sorry this took so long TT it’s been a bit busy recently, anw thank you for requesting!! (the reader here is less of a mechanic, she just invents stuff; i hope u like them!)

“Ouch!”

Childe yelps as he steps on the hundredth nail that day in your shared home in Liyue, hopping on one foot in pain as you sheepishly send him an apologetic smile.

“Oops! Looks like I missed one.”

“Baby, you’re killing me - literally.”

You hum, happily returning back to whatever strange invention you had come up with that day, as Childe heaves a sigh and retreats away from the danger zone, aka anywhere within a 5-feet radius around you.

He grimaces, inspecting the minor outline the nail had made on the bottom of his right foot, before your voice rings through the air.

“Childe, come here!”

A few crashes and bangs sound from the other room you occupied, followed by a string of curses.

Yup, you really were going to kill him someday.

He makes his way cautiously to where you were, and he was surprised to see you holding a metal bow-shaped gadget with little parts attached on the sides.

“You mentioned wanting to improve on your archery skills, so this, my newest invention - you should be honored, by the way - is made just for you!”

You smile triumphantly at him, beginning to explain the functions of the gadget, the little parts that can assist him in working on his aim, how you could adjust the grip on the bow to make it more comfortable, and -

Childe couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face, he thought you looked the most beautiful when you talked about your passions and interests. Plus, you took your time and made it just for him?

He engulfs you in a hug, breaking you out of your rant, leaving you confused.

“I love you so much. Thank you for this, honey,” Childe suddenly proclaims.

You giggle, about to say it back when one of the small parts on the metal gadget in your hand falls off, landing right on your boyfriend’s foot.

“Ow--!” He limps with his unwounded foot before tripping again on the same nail he had stepped on earlier.

“Childe!” You rush over to him, bending down to offer him a hand before stepping on the nail yourself and falling right on top of him - also accidentally stepping on his wounded foot along the way.

Ignoring your half-dead boyfriend now on the verge of tears on the ground, you gasp at the sight of the nail.

“Oh, that must be the nail I was missing - that’s why the part fell off!”

Childe sighs again.

In Mondstadt, you two were known as the smartest couple.

With Albedo as the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius, it was only natural he had a deep understanding in alchemy already. Paired with your unique skill in being able to repair and invent almost anything, experiments with you two were a daily routine.

“Darling, do you mind passing me the warming gadget you made earlier? I’m heading out to gather some ingredients for my next experiment.”

“Of course! Here.”

Being with the most dedicated alchemist of Mondstadt meant traveling quite a lot, especially to Dragonspine.

Of course, Albedo insists you stay home as it could be dangerous, but you argue that you would miss him too much. Plus, you could - quoted from you - “use your inventing abilities to assist him in his experiments.”

It would be a lie if Albedo said your skills haven’t come in handy, especially in situations like these.

“I designed it so that the colder the temperature gets, the more heat this gadget produces! Super helpful, right?”

Albedo chuckles, taking your latest invention from your hands, before smiling at your excited expression.

“Yes, dear. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

You giggle, leaning into him, planting a small kiss on his cheek before he sets out on his exploration.

“Ah - just remember to adjust the sensitivity when-“

You gasp suddenly in the middle of your sentence, eyes widening like it always did when you had some brilliant idea for your next creation.

“Wait, dear, what do you mea-“ Albedo starts, but stops as he watches you already busying yourself around the workspace, gathering materials with a wild grin on your face.

He sighs, smiling gently to himself as he decides it was probably nothing important.

He regrets not asking.

Albedo shivers, breathing out in relief as he spots the entrance to the camp.

The gadget had suddenly started producing an excessive amount of heat as he was starting to head back, too hot even in Dragonspine.

After the small gadget had become too hot for the touch, it let out a small explosion before letting out a trail of smoke indicating it was no longer usable.

The small explosion had shocked the blonde alchemist, resulting in him falling in a pile of snow.

Albedo steps into the safe confines of the camp, alerting you of his presence.

“Oh - you’re back Alb-” You pause, examining his appearance.

“Why are you covered in snow, dear?”

He only sighs, as you narrow your eyes at the broken gadget in his hand.

“Oh no - did you forget to adjust the sensitivity??” You furrow your eyebrows at the now useless tool, taking it from him and examining it carefully.

“You didn’t tell me-” He starts to explain, before you interrupt him.

“I just made this, Albedo!” You pout at him, setting the broken object on the table, before huffing and walking towards the alchemist.

Grabbing a nearby towel, you start to clean him of the snow he had fallen in earlier, scolding him to be more careful.

“Go sit down, I’ll make you some hot chocolate. You’re gonna get sick.” You huff again, turning around leaving a very confused Albedo still standing.

He then breaks into a laugh, amused by your very unique way of caring for him.

“I love you a lot, darling, you know?” He suddenly confesses while making his way to a seat.

“W-wha-” You almost dropped the cup in your hand, flustered.

“Be quiet and drink your hot chocolate--!”

Your giggling could be heard as a confused Zhongli held a small controller in his hands, trying to navigate the robot dog on the floor.

“Zhongli - other way--!”

“Like this?”

The dog crashed into the wall of your home, leaving Zhongli huffing and putting the controller down.

You couldn’t resist a laugh at your pouting boyfriend. “Aww, Zhongli, here I’ll show you!”

You take the controller and explain the buttons and how to move the dog properly, while he watches with a serious expression.

“Here, you try.”

Zhongli furrows his eyebrows, carefully moving the buttons as you instructed. When the dog finally moves in a direction that isn’t crashing into something, you could’ve sworn you saw Zhongli’s eyes light up.

You stifled a giggle at his excited expression, almost resisting the urge to ruffle his hair with how adorable he looked for such a seemingly mature man.

Without thinking, you leaned forward to press a kiss against his unknowing lips, to which Zhongli froze almost dropped the controller at the action.

“Ah-uhm,” The geo archon clears his throat, facing you with a raise of his eyebrows. “What was that for, love?”

You shake your head, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Nothing. You’re just too cute with that thing.”

Zhongli chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for making this, darling. It is quite amusing to play with.”

A smile breaks across your face, sitting up to face him. “There’s a cool trick this dog can do, want to see?”

He nods, curious as you take the controller from his hands.

Hiding a mischievous smile on your lips, you press a button on the bottom of the controller that sends the robotic dog jumping into Zhongli’s lap, startling the tall man.

The dog starts to lick Zhongli’s face - with its mechanical tongue - as he sputters and finally gets the dog to stay in place in his arms.

“Love - this is...the trick?”

You burst out laughing at the still squirming dog in your shocked boyfriend’s arms, raising the controller again.

“There’s another trick too! Wanna s-”

“No.”

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rafael-silva · 3 years ago

Text

under the sky and stars: a tarlos fic

When Carlos and TK take a weekend off to go camping, the last thing they were prepared for was their mini vacation getting cut short by the untimely activation of what’s said to be TK’s danger magnet.

What starts as a peaceful day is turned on its head when TK is hurt during their hike. Cut off from help and with no cell service, Carlos and TK work together to keep the younger man awake and getting the injury under control. They lean on one another, sharing memories, voicing confessions and finding comfort within each other along the way.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + cauterizing a wound

hurt tk strand, worried carlos reyes, major character injury, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, injury description, softness, kisses, comfort

11.1k | rated T | on ao3

*****

Because, well, camping in the middle of nature, miles away from the city and with fluctuating cell service…what could possibly go wrong?

This particular camping spot was near and dear to Carlos, one of his all-time favorite locations. He’s frequently visited this very spot countless times with his family growing up, setting up their tents together, Carlos and his sisters looking for firewood while hiking and then building the bonfire, laughing and creating many memories along the way.

It had been a while since Carlos went camping there, mostly due to his busy schedule, juggling hectic shifts and long days, along with some days off, so he can spend as much time with TK as possible.

And once he was reminded of that spot by the memories feature from his photos app, popping up a selfie of the Reyes family from a few years prior on a hike, a thought crossed his mind. A very good thought. And he suddenly couldn’t contain his excitement at the possibility lingering in his mind.

He and TK were cuddling on the couch after a mutual exhausting never-ending day, both of them stumbling into their home within ten minutes of each other, weary to theirs bones. After a quick shared shower, they settled on the couch and into each other’s arms, drawing comfort from one another and watched a movie in comfortable silence.

“Have you gone camping before?” Carlos’s voice sliced through the quiet, his tone soft.

TK takes a moment to think, revisiting his own memories before nodding. “Yeah, a couple of times. When I was younger though, went camping in Upstate New York, once with mom and dad and the other time with just dad,” he replied, slightly intrigued by Carlos’s somewhat random question.

“So, there’s this camping spot,” Carlos had started explaining, running a hand up and down TK’s arm. “I used to go there all the time with my parents and sisters, especially growing up. It was kind of our safe haven, it had quickly became our spot and I was thinking that we could go camping there one weekend. I’d love to show it to you and share it with you,” he expressed.

TK moved so he’d face Carlos instead of having his back against the offer’s chest, and there was much emotion written in his features, his green eyes glued to Carlos’s brown ones.

“That place means a lot to me, and you mean so much to me, TK,” Carlos added. “It’s part of who I am, and I want to share everything that I am with you.”

TK’s eyes remained on Carlos, his expression soft.

“Of course, if you’d want to go camping, that is.”

TK lightly chuckled, nodding and moved closer to Carlos. “I’d love to. I mean, I’m not really big on camping, just because it wasn’t super easy to do while living in the city, but I’d do anything with you. Even if we were going to a random spot, I know I’ll love it. And the fact that that spot means so much to you, of course I’d go with you. I look forward to getting to know that side of you, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos’s face had broken into a big, bright smile, his eyes twinkling. He returned the tender kiss TK brushes to his lips and leans into the paramedic’s touch when TK cupped Carlos’s cheek.

“Besides,” TK began with they separated, “one of us should know what they’re doing when it comes to camping.”

Carlos had nodded, agreeing. “Plus, we’ve both been working so much and so hard lately, I feel like we’re running on fumes and a break could really help us. And nature is a great healer.”

“Nature and love,” TK added before giving Carlos another kiss.

After managing to take the same weekend off, and Carlos calling his father asking to borrow his truck for the trip, Carlos and TK make a list of everything they need for the three days. They split it between them and each get what they’re responsible for by the agreed time.

The weekend approaches quickly to both their delight and that’s when Carlos and TK find themselves on the road, TK’s road trip playlist blasting through the speakers as Austin disappears in the rearview mirror.

And Carlos, Carlos smiles, stealing a quick glance at TK when they stop at a red light. The younger man is so at ease, leaning back against the headrest and Carlos’s heart swells with even more love for him. TK turns to look at Carlos, an identical smile on his face.

Excitement sizzles in Carlos’s stomach at the thought of creating even more memories with TK during this trip, and at one of his favorite places, too. He already starts to feel better, feeling the tension leave his body. Both he and TK had been looking forward to getting some peace, to recharge their energies and to spend more quality time together.

But TK’s said danger magnet was waiting in the corner, getting ready to strike and to throw them both a painful and unexpected curveball.

They arrive at the camping spot a couple of hours later. Carlos parks the truck at the end of the trail and switches off the ignition, excited to be back to this spot. It’s so beautiful that TK pauses his movement to get out of the car, looking through the window and taking it all in.

Carlos hops out, closing the door behind him and stretches his muscles. Their early start had been in their favor, the sun still hanging high in the sky above them, which tells Carlos they’ll have time to set everything up and walk around for a while before it gets dark, too.

TK follows Carlos, gazing around and the amount of green merging with the blue of the sky and the birds twittering around them takes his breath away.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carlos says, standing by TK’s side.

TK nods. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“Come on,” Carlos takes TK’s hand and begins walking further into the tree line. “It’s on foot from here, but it’s not too far in. But be careful,” he warns. “Some of the ground is really slippery and there are a lot of hills. Took a tumble once and sprained my ankle, I do not recommend the experience.”

TK tightens his hold on Carlos’s hand as he leads them through bushes, branches and tree barks, closely following Carlos’s trail.

After about an eight minute walk, they reach a clearing with even, dry ground and large open space.

“Here we are,” Carlos announces.

“Wow,” TK says, tilting his head upwards to look at the tall trees above them. They cast a shadow down at the campsite, but don’t completely obscure the sun, its golden light shining through the branches.

TK can feel the history here, the years it took for these tree to grow and flourish like this, and for the first time, he feels one with nature and he welcomes it. He closes his eyes, the soft wind colliding with his face and he draws in a deep breath, relishing in the fresh, clear air.

“It’s like all your worries wash away when you’re here,” Carlos’s voice brings TK back from his thoughts.

“I feel lighter already,” TK agrees.

But the spell is broken when TK groans and shoos away a mosquito. And Carlos mirrors him when he hears buzzing near his ear.

“Bug spray is in the bag, let’s get everything set up and we can walk around for a bit,” Carlos says.

After sending off texts to their parents that they’ve safely arrived (which had taken some time while they searched for a spot with sufficient cell service), it takes Carlos and TK two trips to bring everything they need from the truck to the campsite. They start with setting up the tent in the middle, and TK being completely out of his zone here, helps when Carlos asks, doing exactly what the officer tells him. Carlos is an expert as he works, his muscles and mind working together, knowing exactly what to do and what goes where, not missing a beat. The tent is set up in record time (based on TK’s knowledge and how often people say it takes forever to set up a tent) and TK wears an impressed expression.

Carlos chuckles at the look on TK’s face. “Learned to set it up during the summer I was fourteen. My father had told me and my sisters that we were setting up our own tents that time. It wasn’t easy, it took a lot of time and more than a few collapses, but eventually, the tent held.”

“Well, practice makes perfect,” TK smiles, planting a kiss to Carlos’s cheek.

“And sweat, a lot of sweat,” Carlos adds.

TK chuckles, opening their cooler and takes hold of Carlos’s reusable water bottle, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” Carlos gratefully accepts the bottle and takes a long swing of the cold water.

They move around in unison, TK retrieving the sleeping bag and undoing the zipper so it’s flat and lays it on the ground inside the tent then covers it with their duvet and places their pillows at the head of the tent.

Outside, Carlos arranges their sitting area, gathering the blankets that have been designated for camping. His mother had left them at his place a couple of years back, for whenever he’d take solo trips. He spreads the blankets around where the fire would be built then grabs the foldable chairs, arranging them behind the blankets.

“We have enough time for a walk before it gets dark,” Carlos says when TK emerges from the tent. “Everything else can be set up when we’re back, and we’ll get wood for the fire, too.”

TK nods. “Sounds wonderful, babe.”

Carlos grabs his compass and map, pocketing both for when he’ll need them and takes TK’s hand, and together, they stride into the endless greenery.

*****

The sun is setting when they return to the campsite, each of them carrying an armful of wood.

“These should last until tomorrow,” Carlos says, dropping the logs near the place for the fire.

TK does the same and awaits Carlos’s instructions.

Carlos kneels down and starts arranging the logs then looks up at TK. “Can you grab me the lighter fluid and matches?”

TK nods and goes to retrieve the items. A chill is starting to set in the air around them at the loss of the sun’s warmth and TK can’t wait to get cozy by the fire. He also grabs his hoodie while he’s at it.

He hands Carlos the medium sized bottle of lighter fluid and watches as his boyfriend pours some over the wood. Once he’s closing the bottle, TK lights a match and drops it over the fluid, the fire immediately igniting.

He slips on his hoodie and settles on one of the blankets, looking over his shoulder at Carlos when he hears rummaging from behind.

He smiles when Carlos shows him the bag of marshmallows and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Camping just isn’t proper camping with marshmallows,” Carlos declares as he sits next to TK, the bag in one hand and slim wooden sticks in the other.

He hands TK the bag, who promptly opens it and accepts a stick from Carlos. They both sear a marshmallow through their sticks and hold it over the open fire.

“Now, there’s an art to roasting marshmallows,” Carlos starts. “To get it crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. You can’t hold it too close to the flame and you have to keep rotating it so its evenly roasted.”

TK nods and does his best, but he pouts when the marshmallow completely burns.

“It’s okay, baby, it takes a few tries to get it right,” Carlos reassures him.

TK eats the burnt marshmallow and shrugs. “Soft on the inside though. Well, more like melty. And hot!”

TK tries again and again, and when his fifth marshmallow is still burnt (not as badly as the first one, but still burnt nonetheless), he shakes his head and laughs.

“And I thought I’d be good at this because I used to roast them over the stove growing up,” TK sighs.

Carlos’s eyebrows travel up his forehead and he’s shaking his head. “Not the same as roasting them over a campfire, definitely not the same,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m learning that the hard way,” TK dramatically sighs again.

“Here,” Carlos hands TK his own stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow. “You should have at least one that’s properly roasted.”

TK lightly elbows Carlos in the stomach and playfully rolls his eyes. “Okay, this is amazing,” he admits after eating the marshmallow.

Carlos smirks. “Besides, like you said earlier, practice makes perfect. So I guess we have no other option than going camping a lot so you can perfect your marshmallow roasting technique.”

“Hmm,” TK hums as he moves his face closer to Carlos’s. “Yeah, I guess that’s our only option,” he whispers.

Carlos smiles as he closes the small distance between them by capturing TK’s lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Carlos tastes a mix of TK and burnt marshmallows, and the combination makes his heart jump in his chest with joy; further proof that Carlos isn’t dreaming, they’re here, together in one of Carlos’s favorite places on the planet. TK easily opens to him and they pour into each other. TK’s free hand goes to the back of Carlos’s head as Carlos’s goes to hold TK’s face.

The kiss slows down, turning into a simple press of lips and they start exchanging small, chaste kisses before separating to catch their breath. They don’t pull back completely though as Carlos rests his forehead against TK’s.

They’re lying on the blanket a little while later, TK cuddled to Carlos’s side, after it was agreed that they’d had enough marshmallows for the time being. Otherwise, they’d get a sugar rush and neither wanted to experience the crash from that. Besides, they still hadn’t eaten the dinner they packed for the night.

Carlos had grabbed his zip up hoodie and slipped it on before lying down, the wind picking up a little and a shiver ran through his body. Once they’re both warm, both by clothes and each other’s presence, silence falls onto them, the leaves rustling around them the only sound as they watch the stars glitter above, vivid against the endless black sky.

“You can never see the stars this clearly in the city,” TK says in a quiet voice.

Carlos nods, not entirely sure if TK means New York or Austin, but he supposes both, because it’s true either way. He had heard about the light pollution in New York and how it obscures the night sky and its beauty, and from his experience living in Austin, the same can be said for the Texan city.

“There’s beauty in every direction you look here, it’s all encompassing. Left, right, up, down…you’re surrounded by it, you’re a part of it. There’s a lake this way,” Carlos points to their left, turning to face TK. “Me and my sisters used to go swimming there, the water is so blue and so clear and it’s the perfect temperature. We can take a dip before leaving, if you want.”

“Oh, but I don’t have my swimming suit,” TK points out.

Carlos doesn’t reply, instead he lifts a suggestive eyebrow as a smirk tugs on his lips.

“Ohhhh,” TK catches on to where Carlos’s head is at, and a blush paints his cheeks.

The nearby fire dances, the flames coloring TK’s skin golden and bringing out the green in his eyes. Carlos winks and the light pink rises up his boyfriend’s face and TK’s lips spread into a soft smile.

“Well, then, I couldn’t refuse that now, could I?” TK wiggles his eyebrows and moves closer to Carlos.

The beauty of the stars is momentarily forgotten as Carlos watches TK, getting lost in his features, taking it all in even though he can draw every detail in his sleep. He feels his heart grow in his chest with the amount of love he feels for the other man, gazing through green gates and into his soul, he’d willingly get lost in those irises for days.

Without a word, Carlos leans in and captures TK’s lips in a soaring kiss, giving TK his all and gladly receiving TK’s as the paramedic wastes no time in reciprocating.

“I’d come here alone, sometimes,” Carlos voices a few minutes after they return to their previous position. “When I was older. Sometimes my family would be busy and wouldn’t be able to make the trip, other times it was unplanned. I’d need to get away for a few days, and I’d find myself here. When things would get hard or overwhelming, this place was always there for me. This place offered me a lot of clarity over the years, opened my eyes to many things. Helped me dig deep into myself and really know who I am. Because here, in the middle of all this beautiful nature, that wasn’t so scary. It was almost like nature was telling me that it’s okay, that whatever happens, it’s all going to be okay, that it’s all just that, natural and organic. And eventually, whenever I needed to make a decision or when I just needed to think, I’d come here.”

TK waits a beat, fingers fidgeting with the zipper of Carlos’s hoodie and then asks a question. “Did you ever come here to find clarity about…me? Or us?”

Carlos is silent for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah, after you got shot,” he swallows, his mind taking him back to that horrific week.

He tightens his hold on TK, unconsciously needing to know that TK is okay, that he’s with him, right here, right now.

Then something clicks in TK’s mind. “When you texted me that you were leaving town for a couple of days, you came here.”

Carlos nods. He had sent that text a week after TK was out of the hospital and recovering at home. He had seen him a couple of times since his discharge, each time his emotions and feelings towards TK growing and bubbling more in his chest. And after making sure TK was really okay and was taken care of by his team, he had decided a trip was needed.

Falling for TK was unexpected, it had taken him by surprise and so did the amount of feelings he’d quickly developed for the other man. He needed to gather his thoughts and to process it all. He thinks back to those couple of days, pacing the ground for what seemed like hours, his mind going in a million different directions. It’s only when he sat down and looked up at this very sky, that he really started seeing everything, truly seeing.

Carlos draws in a deep breath before continuing, looking up at the sky now. “Like I told you that day at the juice bar, seeing you in that hospital bed was very hard, and all these strong feelings I had for you, they really took me over. I’d been out of the dating game for so long when I met you, and I never expected to fall for you as quickly as I did. And although I had felt it blossoming in the days and weeks before you got hurt, I truly realized just how much I felt for you when I found out you got shot. And then when I saw you lying in that hospital bed, that feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach and that pang in my chest,” he pauses, “…it scared me, the strength of the feelings scared me, the thought of losing you and losing everything we could be before we even truly began terrified me,” his voice breaks a little with the last few words.

TK finds Carlos’s hand and gives it a light squeeze.

Carlos recovers and continues. “And then you woke up and got sent home and every time I saw you, the feelings just grew and grew and there was no stopping it, not that I wanted to stop it. But I still didn’t know what we were, and I didn’t want to push you, knowing what you had gone through. I guess I just needed to process it all, it had all jumbled together and I needed to untangle it. So I came here, because this place always helps with that.”

“And what did you realize?” TK carefully asks.

Carlos turns his head once more so he’s looking at TK. “What I knew was true all along, that what I felt for you, all those feelings, all that love, was natural and organic. Cosmic, even. I realized it came from the deepest of places, the brightest and purest of places, it came from the soul, from the bottom of the heart. And that realization felt right, it felt good. I remember smiling then because I felt lighter, I felt like that realization breathed fresh air into my lungs. And I wasn’t scared anymore. I was hopeful. I knew this love was worth fighting for.”

TK is quiet for a while, letting everything Carlos said sink in, and the flickering flames reveal the unshed tears swimming in his eyes. Carlos’s words had been so honest, so vulnerable and it moves TK, fills him with even more love for Carlos.

“So, in a way, this place had brought us together,” TK expresses.

Carlos nods. “Which is one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here.”

“It really means everything, you sharing this place with me,” TK runs his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles. “I also realized what I had known all along that day of the solar storm, after the bus rescue and on the way to the hospital. I was scared, too. Getting into something and starting a relationship was the last thing on my mind when I got to Austin, but that connection to you, that pull between us, it felt right from the very start. I resisted it, though, I did, because I was still dealing with everything that happened in New York. But that day, I realized I wanted to deal with everything with you, with you by my side. I was learning to stand again, I knew that was something I had to do on my own but I wanted you to be there for me to lean on when I needed it. You gave me strength, Carlos, every day, and you continue to. You brought color back into my life and I knew then I wasn’t scared anymore. And you’re right, our love is cosmic and worth fighting for. It’s always under the sky and stars.”

Thinking back to that night, lying on the hood of the Camaro under the Northern Lights, the moment they really gave them a chance and started the journey of everything they would become together, TK smiles.

Carlos makes the connection, as well, mirroring the soft smile. “The sky and stars really do have a way of bringing us closer. Our love being cosmic sounds particularly appropriate.”

A gentle kiss is shared as they move even closer together, gravitating towards each other, always in each other’s orbit.

The tent goes forgotten as they fall asleep under the stars, wrapped in each other’s embrace, blanketed by the comfort of their love.

*****

If TK is distracted by watching Carlos, who’s wearing a tank top and sweat shorts, stride around the campsite while he gets their breakfast ready, well, who can blame him? TK’s eyes find themselves glued to Carlos’s biceps and the way his muscles contract and move under his skin, making TK miss the words Carlos is directing at him.

Carlos pauses, lifting an eyebrow. “TK? Earth to TK?”

“Hm?” TK snaps out of his trance and eyes go to Carlos’s face, which is just as captivating.

Carlos chuckles lightly. “Welcome back.” Then he’s smirking. “Like what you see?”

He gets it, though, knows the power of the tank top. Because he, too, loves it when TK wears his own tank tops, and Carlos finds himself in the same position TK was just in.

A blush crawls up TK’s neck and face as he bites down on his low lip, his eyes roaming over Carlos’s majestic form. He nods after a few moments.

“You’ll do,” TK playfully teases.

“Oh, is that it? I’ll do?” Carlos whispers, his tone a little heavy and low as he takes tentative steps towards his boyfriend, the smirk still drawn on his face.

“Yeah,” TK nods again, his eyes not leaving Carlos’s.

TK smiles against Carlos’s lips when the officer leans in for a kiss and returns it, his body filling up with warmth at their contact.

“Come on,” Carlos says when they pull apart. “We gotta have a good breakfast because we have some exploration ahead of us today. And other activities, too,” Carlos lifts an eyebrow and winks at TK.

They keep up their flirting and playful banter throughout breakfast, and once they’re finished and Carlos had gathered the stuff they’ll need and packed it into his backpack, they start their journey into the woods, Carlos leading with TK close behind.

The first couple of hours go by smoothly. Carlos shows TK a few of the spots he would frequent when he’d visit here, telling him stories along the way and sharing the memories he’s built with his family. He snaps pictures of TK here and there, some while he wasn’t looking, others with TK posing along with a bunch of selfies of them wearing big smiles.

They come to rest at a clearing, deciding to take a break before continuing their hike. Carlos finds a large rock to sit on, taking a few sips of water before his eyes find TK. The other man is roaming around, looking up at the trees and taking it all in. He comes to a halt on an elevation, looking into the distance and doesn’t realize he’s right on the edge of a hill.

Carlos’s face falls a little when he notices where TK’s standing, and he’s about to tell him to take a few steps back when TK himself turns around and starts to move towards him.

Carlos’s newfound relief lasts for only a brief second as he watches TK stumble. He quickly gets to his feet, moving to help steady TK while a little voice at the back of his head supplies slippery mud, but it’s too late.

For a moment it feels like an out of body experience and in an instant, he’s running to TK. It takes a second, but before he reaches him, TK looses his balance and falls, Carlos’s eyes going wide and his heart drops into his knees as it happens.

Carlos freezes, arms stretched out, heart hammering and eyes glued to the space TK occupied a second ago. He was right there, within his reach and then he wasn’t.

The image of the panicked look on TK’s face and his green eyes blown wide with fear will forever be etched in Carlos’s mind.

He swallows and finds himself at the edge a moment later as he looks down. It’s a nasty fall, even though it’s not a drop but a slope, the steep angle surely would have increased TK’s speed as he rolled downhill. The area it’s littered with rocks of all sizes, and TK’s body would most definitely be bruised and battered by the impact against them.

Carlos yells out when he finds his voice. “TK! TK! Hang on! I’m coming for you!”

The panic in his gut starts brewing even more at the lack of a response from TK.

Carlos weighs his options, and a quick survey tells him there’s no other way to get to TK except down this slope. He takes a deep breath and very carefully starts making his way towards where he’ll find TK.

He almost slips a few times during his descend, tree leaves crunching under his hiking boots and his feet sinking into piles of leaves and small bushes. He keeps calling out for TK on his way down, still getting no reply from the other man. Carlos tells himself he has to get a hold on the panic rising in his body, he feels his hands begin to shake and wills them to steady. He needs to be composed to help TK, to get him out of this. TK is relying on him.

That knowledge gives Carlos the strength he needs and he gathers himself, letting out a small sigh of relief when the ground appears to even out before him.

Then his eyes land on TK, who’s sprawled out on his side, his back to Carlos. And he isn’t moving. And Carlos can’t tell if he’s breathing from this angle.

Carlos’s legs move on their own accord and he’s sprinting towards TK, dropping to his knees next to him. His eyes run over TK’s face and head, where he finds a cut under his hairline that’s oozing blood down his face, and his usually neat hair is filled with torn leaves and covered in dust. He watches TK’s chest closely next, and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he spots the rise and fall there, although shallower and shorter than he’d like, but TK is breathing.

“TK? TK, babe, can you hear me?” Carlos speaks, his voice coated with worry.

With TK still unconscious, Carlos starts doing what he could: check TK over for any visible injuries on the rest of his body.

And he most definitely was not prepared for what he found. He couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that tears from his throat when his eyes land on a large, jagged open wound on TK’s right thigh. There’s blood gushing down his leg and dripping into a puddle beneath the paramedic, a stark crimson staining the rock below.

“Shit, shit,” Carlos mumbles and breaks himself out of his haze.

He knows he shouldn’t move TK until he’s sure there’s no spinal damage, but he also needs to apply pressure in hopes of slowing down the bleeding and the only way to effectively do that is to have TK lying on his back.

Knowing it’s his only option and the best chance TK has in this moment, Carlos very gently and carefully, while supporting TK’s body and carrying his weight, repositions TK and then clamps both hands over the wound and pushes down as hard as he can, putting all his weight into it as he prays that it isn’t the day he loses the love of his life.

He knows deep down it won’t do much good because he can already feel the blood seeping through his fingers. TK’s blood. Carlos’s stomach churns in an unnatural way and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and attempts to get his irregular breathing under control.

It seems, however, that the pressure does achieve something because Carlos is quickly opening his eyes when he hears a sharp painful gasp. The adrenaline, that same small voice at the back of his head supplies once more.

TK is haphazardly moving his head from side to side, eyebrows knitted together with confusion. Carlos easily finds TK’s wide eyes, filled to the brim with panic and fear and does his best in comforting and calming his boyfriend.

“TK, TK, hey, hey, look at me, look at me,” Carlos guides, trying to get TK’s attention.

The erratic movements eventually slow and TK focuses on Carlos through his blurry vision, tears springing into his eyes. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his line of sight sending a couple of tears down the sides of his face.

“Carlos…” TK whimpers through clenched teeth, reaching out for his boyfriend and closing his fist around the material of Carlos’s tank top, holding on with all the strength he could muster.

“I’m right here, baby, right here,” Carlos is quick to reassure him. “Stay with me, TK, hang on.”

“What…what happened?” TK asks when he gathers his breath.

“You fell down a hill, probably slipped on some mud and lost your balance. You were unconscious when I found you and you have a cut on your head and I think you could have a concussion. Can you wiggle your toes?”

After a moment, TK nods, knowing why Carlos is asking.

“Okay, good. But…”

“But?” TK questions and manages to lift himself to look at where Carlos’s eyes had landed.

TK gulps, seeing the wound and the alarming among of blood he had already lost and tries to keep the sizzling panic at bay. He knows panicking won’t help, that he needs to remain calm.

TK groans, pain flaring through his leg and making him a little dizzy.

“I think a piece of wood punctured your thigh and then broke away. I’ve been trying to slow the bleeding but it’s not working very well,” he explains, his voice filled with the panic he’s trying to suppress.

TK is silent for a few moments and Carlos fears he fell back into unconsciousness. But then TK is speaking, clearly having slipped into paramedic mode in those few seconds.

“Okay, we need to make a tourniquet, hopefully that will help slow the bleeding until we get help,” TK says.

Carlos nods, thinking back to what they have in their backpack. His heart drops some more when he realizes they don’t have anything for a tourniquet. Besides, the backpack is up that hill and there’s no way Carlos is leaving TK alone.

Making up his mind, Carlos takes off his tank top and looks to TK for instructions on what to do next.

TK frowns. “What…”

“This is everything we’ve got.”

TK nods, no time or energy for arguing. He already feels weaker and his head is starting to spin. But he evens his labored breathing, not only trying to access his own body for internal injuries but also to be able to properly tell Carlos what to do. He’s not alone, Carlos is here, and they can do this, together.

“Okay, you need to find a strong stick, it needs to be thick so it doesn’t break when it’s twisted to tighten the tourniquet,” TK tells Carlos.

Finding a stick in the woods, should be simple enough, Carlos thinks as he looks around, still in his position and applying pressure to TK’s thigh. Once he spots a stick that could work, he takes hold of TK’s hands and guides them to the wound, pushing them down there.

“I need you to hold pressure while I do this, TK. Can you do that for me?” Carlos asks and once he’s sure TK has complied, he moves to retrieve the stick.

TK gives it his all. He’s scared, and he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to bleed out on this hill in the middle of the woods. He doesn’t want Carlos to have to watch it happen. He doesn’t want to ruin what this place means to Carlos. He doesn’t want to miss out on spending the rest of his life with Carlos. So he fights against the darkness creeping at him from the corners of his eyes and gives it everything he’s got.

But he’s tired, he’s so tired, and his hands momentarily stop working. But a voice reminds him to stay awake, stay awake…

Carlos can tell, that as expected, TK’s strength is faltering by the way more blood is running free down the paramedic’s injured leg. So he does his best to keep TK awake and talking until the tourniquet can take over in controlling the bleeding.

“Hey, TK, stay with me,” Carlos pleads. “Tell me, what’s next?”

TK nods. “Loop…loop the shirt above the wound and then place the stick over the loop and tie a knot,” his voice trails off.

Carlos follows TK’s instructions, his hands working quickly to do as TK says.

“Then…rotate it and the knot is going to tighten,” TK continues using a shaky breath. “It should help control the bleeding.”

“Okay, you ready?” Carlos asks, his worry filled eyes moving to TK’s face, knowing how much tourniquets hurt when they’re applied.

TK draws in a breath and nods.

“Okay, here we go,” Carlos starts twisting the stick and his heart clenches and shatters some more at hearing the throaty and pained moans that TK lets out.

The younger man’s eyes are squeezed shut, face crunching up in agony as the groans keep spilling from his mouth.

It works, and Carlos can see the bleeding is substantially slowing down.

“It’s working, it’s working,” Carlos sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments and taking in a deep breath, his shoulders slumping forward.

And now it’s time to figure out where they ended up and how to get back to the campsite, into the truck and to the hospital as fast as they can. Carlos knows the tourniquet isn’t a permanent solution and he’s worried about infection setting in.

He fishes his phone from his pocket and prays for even one bar of service, but disappointment settles in his stomach at the words no service glaring at him from the top of his screen.

He sighs, turning back to TK.

“Hey, TK, still with me, baby?”

TK gives him a weak nod.

“Listen, I have to go back up to get the backpack, you need to hydrate and the map and compass will help us get back to camp,” Carlos explains, hating that he has to leave TK. “I need you to keep holding the tourniquet in place, to make sure it doesn’t get undone. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Be…careful,” TK replies, closing his hand over the stick when Carlos places it there.

“I will be,” Carlos responds and leans down to brush a kiss to TK’s forehead.

It takes every inch of strength Carlos has to pull away.

“I’ll be right back, baby.”

Carlos rushes back up the hill, trying to be as quick but as efficient and safe as he possibly can, not wanting to leave TK alone for long. He faces some difficulty climbing up but manages to avoid slips and falls.

He’s panting when he finally makes it to the top, grabbing a hold of the backpack and then stops for a second. He pulls his phone out again, praying for service and rejoices at the one bar of service he finds.

He puts the phone to his ear and his heart thumps in his chest as he waits for it to connect. After what feels like an eternity, it starts ringing, and another lifetime after that, Owen picks up.

“Owen?” Carlos speaks, his voice tight. “Owen, can you hear me?”

“Carlos?” Owen replies but his voice is so far away.

“Owen, we need help,” Carlos continues, praying that Owen can hear him over the line scratching between the words.

“Carlos—you’re breaking—can’t—”

Then the lines goes dead.

A glance at his phone tells Carlos the one much-needed bar of service is gone.

“Damn it,” Carlos growls with frustration, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

He’s back at TK’s side a few minutes later, and finds his boyfriend barely holding onto consciousness.

“Hey, TK, I’m back,” Carlos announces, kneeling next to TK once more.

He notices that TK’s hold on the tourniquet has loosened a bit so he tightens the knot to control the bleeding again and his heart sinks at the almost lack of response from TK.

Shock, that voice in his head speaks again. He needs to get TK out of here right this moment.

“TK, you with me?” Carlos says as he digs out the compass and map.

TK mumbles something in return.

“Good, stay with me, baby. Didn’t I tell you that I don’t recommend tumbling down a hill? You had to go and try it yourself, huh,” he attempts to lighten the mood with their familiar playful banter but doesn’t quite succeed, his voice coated with fear and worry.

“Take it up with that hill,” TK murmurs back.

A short wet chuckle escapes Carlos, at least TK is doing his best to reciprocate. It’s a small victory in the battle to keep TK awake.

Carlos swallows before continuing, “I almost managed to get through to your dad on the phone,” he says, hoping to keep TK engaged until he figures out how to get back to the campsite. “It was only one bar, though, and it cut off before he could properly hear me.”

He feels his own disappointment mirrored back at him from TK when the younger man frowns.

“Okay,” Carlos nods, getting their bearings and finding the direction they need to move in. “We need to head west, and if we stay on this trail, it should lead us back to camp.”

Carlos moves so he’s behind TK to help him sit up. He places his hands below TK’s shoulders and very slowly and gently starts pushing him up. TK tries his best to help with his weight, but it’s no use, all his energy has been drained. With a hand still steading TK, Carlos reaches his other into the backpack and pulls out a water bottle.

“Here, you need to drink,” he hands it to TK.

TK accepts it with shaky hands and lifts the bottle to his mouth after popping the cap open, taking a few short sips.

“Ready to get up?”

“I’ll try,” TK replies, his voice hoarse.

“I got you,” Carlos promises.

Looping TK’s arm around his shoulder for a better hold on him, Carlos pushes himself up, taking TK with him. TK groans as soon as he’s standing still, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness takes over and pain starts pulsing up and down his injured leg.

“No, no,” TK shakes his head. “It hurts.”

Carlos glances down and curses. Just the mere movement of TK standing up has caused more blood to pour out of his wound, and he knows more movement will dislodge the tourniquet even more.

Carlos shoulders the bag and then wraps an arm around TK’s waist, pulling him towards him.

“TK, I’m gonna need you to put all your weight on me, and absolutely no weight on that leg, okay? I’m going to get you out of here.”

TK distributes his weight on his good leg and on Carlos, dragging his injured leg as he pretty much hops along the way Carlos leads them.

“We’re not that far from camp,” Carlos pants. “I’ll carry you there if I have to.”

And he does. As soon as TK grows even weaker in Carlos’s grip around the halfway mark, the younger man’s muscles deflating, he does exactly that and carries TK the rest of the way.

Once they finally arrive at the site, Carlos carefully lowers TK down on a blanket near the extinguished campfire. He’s about to move to collect their important things when TK’s hand wraps around his wrist and stops him.

“Carlos,” TK heaves. “Carlos, we…we have to stop the bleeding.”

“The tourniquet is in place, I’ll make sure it stays that way…”

But TK is shaking his head. “It didn’t completely stop the blood, even when it was first applied,” he swallows. “Movement will cause more bleeding…and already lost too much blood…nearest hospital is a few hours away, can’t wait.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Carlos asks, the panic in his voice breaking through.

TK takes a deep breath before answering. “Cauterize it.”

It takes a moment for that to sink in and then Carlos’s eyes are going wide. “What? You mean, you want…”

“Need. I need you to do it, babe.”

“What? No, no, TK, I can’t—I can’t do that,” Carlos vigorously shakes his head, eyebrows drawn together. “There has to be something else, another way—”

“There isn’t,” TK matter of factly responds. “That is the only way.”

“No, TK, I…” Carlos’s voice breaks.

“Hey, hey,” TK reaches his arm out to Carlos. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll talk you through it.”

Carlos moves so he’s in TK’s reach and takes his hand. He knows there’s no time to argue—that there’s no need to argue. He has to do this to save TK. TK trusts him and needs him to do this. And even though Carlos is scared out of his skin, he knows what needs to be done. Knows TK needs him now more than ever. He pushes his fear down and wills his heart to calm, ready to do whatever it takes to save the man who has saved him.

Carlos takes a deep breath and nods, sniffing. “What do you need me to do?”

“Need to get the fire going and grab one of the kitchen knives we packed…”

*****

TK slumps backwards, working on catching his breath as his hands go to wipe the tears that had streaked down his face during the agonizing procedure. Carlos is almost done wrapping TK’s thigh with a sterile bandage from the first aid kit after cauterizing it. TK feels Carlos’s lips against his forehead a few moments later.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Carlos whispers against TK’s skin, heart in pieces at the pain TK had just gone through.

“You did everything right, babe,” TK reassures Carlos with a quivering breath. “I knew it was going to hurt.”

“Here,” Carlos hands TK his water bottle. “Drink some more water while I gather our important things and we’ll be on the road soon.”

“There’s time to pack everything,” TK says. “I’m okay.”

Carlos studies TK for a moment. “Are you sure?”

TK nods.

Carlos throws on the first t-shirt he finds and makes quick work of taking down the tent and gathering their stuff. He haphazardly piles everything into the back of the truck, not bothering to pack anything properly. As long as everything is secure, that will do.

Less than ten minutes later sees Carlos helping TK into the passenger seat then getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He sighs when he sees there’s still no service and TK can read the tension sitting in Carlos’s shoulders and in his squared jaw.

“Carlos, babe, I’m okay, the worst is over,” TK holds Carlos’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

Carlos turns to look at TK, taking in his pale complexion and clammy skin. His expression morphs into one of heartbreak and worry. “You can still get an infection, you could still have a concussion,” his eyes travel to the cut on TK’s head. “And there’s no telling what kind of damage that fall did to you internally.”

“All things we’ll deal with one at a time,” TK says calmly, although he wouldn’t be able to speak any louder even if he wanted to. “Take a breath, baby, it’s okay.”

Carlos takes a few moments to gather himself, preparing himself to drive and getting his nerves under control. Once he’s ready, he shifts the gear into drive and they start moving.

“Just don’t fall asleep on me, okay?” Carlos tells TK, his focus on the road.

“Okay,” TK replies.

“Play music if you want, and can you keep an eye on the service bars? We’ll call your dad first chance we get.”

TK opts to play a calmer playlist than the one they listened to on their way to the campsite. This playlist helps to relax him, which in this situation may not be the best of things, but TK also knows that Carlos needs to relax too, and upbeat and loud music will most definitely have the opposite effect on him. So TK settles for it, and pushes past the wave of sleepiness it cloaks over him.

The world passes by in a blur as TK stares out the window and replies to Carlos when the officer makes sure he’s still awake.

“There’s two bars,” TK says when he checks for service again, immediately calling his dad, his phone connected to the car’s bluetooth.

Owen picks up after a few rings. “TK! It’s good to hear from you, Carlos tried calling a bit ago but we got disconnected.”

It’s Carlos who replies to him. “Owen.”

The fire captain immediately picks up on Carlos’s shaky voice. “Carlos, what’s going on?”

“We’re on the way back, TK got hurt on a hike. He’s doing okay now but we’re going straight to the hospital,” Carlos explains.

Owen draws in a deep breath and needing to hear TK’s voice, he calls for him. “TK, son?”

“Hey, dad,” TK replies weakly. “I’m okay.”

“Everything is going to be fine. Which hospital are you going to and how long until you arrive?”

“West Park Memorial is going to be the closest and we’re about an hour away,” Carlos responds.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there. Be careful on the road, please.”

“Will do,” Carlos promises.

“I’m so tried,” TK mumbles after they hang up with Owen, shifting in his seat.

“I know, baby,” Carlos replies without taking his eyes off the road. “But I need you to stay awake for me, we’re almost there.”

TK manages to stay awake until they’re ten minutes away from their destination. Carlos calls for him but he doesn’t answer, giving into the impending darkness that’s been threatening to take over for hours now.

Carlos feels the panic stirring in his gut when TK doesn’t respond, doesn’t move.

“TK, baby, you gotta stay awake,” Carlos tries with no success. “TK, please,” he then uses a hand to take hold of TK’s and realizes with a pang in his chest that TK’s skin has lost some of its warmth.

“Shit,” Carlos curses, his own body and face heating up. “TK, you have to wake up, babe.”

The following ten minutes were some of the longest of Carlos’s life. The further he drives, the farther the hospital got, or so it seemed. After what felt like three eternities, the hospital finally comes into view and he honks a few times as he drives up the ramp leading to the ER entrance.

A doctor and a couple of nurses emerge with a gurney and Carlos jumps out and moves around the truck to open the passenger door.

“We were camping and he fell down a hill and cut open his thigh, he was losing a lot of blood and the tourniquet wasn’t stopping the bleeding completely. He’s a paramedic with the 126 and said we had to cauterize it so I did,” he explains. “He also might have a concussion from the fall. And he can’t be given opioid-based medication.”

The doctor nods while the nurses lift TK from the car and onto the gurney. “How long ago?”

“A few hours,” Carlos replies. “He lost consciousness about ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, we got him now,” the doctor reassures Carlos while performing initial tests on TK. “I need you to park the truck and then fill out some forms while we run a few tests. I’ll leave word at the ER front desk. What’s his name?”

“TK Strand.”

“He’s in good hands,” she nods before retreating through the sliding doors.

Carlos watches as they wheel TK into the hospital, the doctor giving orders as they moved. He starts to feel his own knees growing weaker as TK disappears down the hall and the doors slide shut. It feels like a part of his heart has just been torn from him.

He repeats he’s going to be okay over and over in his head as he climbs back into the truck and until he’s striding into the ER, a mantra to keep him calm.

“Hi, I was told I need to fill some forms for TK Strand. I just brought him in,” he says to the charge nurse at the front desk.

She nods and hands him a clipboard with a pen attached. “What’s your relation to the patient?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Carlos replies. “And I’m his emergency contact.”

She gives him a soft smile. “They took him into an exam room to check him over and to run some standard tests. I’ll have someone take you to him once you fill out the forms.”

Carlos nods and begins filling out the empty spaces.

He’s lead to TK ten minutes later, following the nurse to where TK is being examined. She stops in front of a closed door and turns to Carlos.

“He’s right through there, his results should be in soon,” she informs him. “Just press the call button if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Carlos nods and slowly opens the door as she walks away.

And he could cry tears of joy when he’s met with hazy green eyes once he steps into the room.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos softly breathes, relaxing a little at seeing TK awake.

“Hi, baby,” TK replies, a small smile forming on his face.

Carlos is by TK’s bedside in three strides, taking his boyfriend’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I’m glad to see you awake,” Carlos says. “You gave me quite the scare.”

TK winces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. It’s okay, baby, I’m just worried about you,” Carlos runs his thumb over TK’s skin that thankfully now feels a little warmer than earlier, courtesy of the IV fluids TK’s been given. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, a little out of it and tired, but the fluids are helping,” TK replies.

Carlos’s response to that is interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Hey, Owen,” Carlos answers.

“Carlos, I tried calling TK but it went to voicemail,” Owen responds.

Carlos can tell that he’s power walking by the way his voice wavers a little. “We forgot it in the car. We’re in the ER.”

“I’m walking in now. Which room are you boys in?”

“Oh,” Carlos pauses, realizing he’s not exactly sure which way he was lead. He must have zoned out then, he thinks. “Um, ask for TK at the front desk, a nurse will show you the way.”

“Okay,” Owen replies. “I’ll be right there.”

The door is pushed open a few minutes later, revealing a worried Owen, his face crunched up in concern. He breaths a sigh of relief when he sees TK awake but his eyes still radiate the fear bubbling in his chest at his son, once again, landing in the hospital.

His eyes move from TK to Carlos as he steps into the room, placing a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and squeezing there before moving to TK’s side.

“Hey, son,” Owen gives him a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, a little better now,” TK replies after clearing is throat.

Owen’s eyes survey TK, noticing the butterfly bandage on his forehead and then his eyes widen when he spots the bandage on TK’s thigh.

Turning to Carlos, he asks, “what happened?”

“He took a tumble down a hill, he lost his balance, most likely on wet mud. He rolled down and his thigh probably got cut by a wooden stick or log. We tried a tourniquet but it didn’t hold well, so we…” Carlos pauses, his eyes moving to TK then back to Owen. “We had to cauterize it.”

Owen’s eyes go impossibly wide at that, digesting everything Carlos had said. “It was that bad?”

Before Carlos can reply, the door is opened and the doctor walks in.

“Doctor, this is Owen, TK’s father,” Carlos introduces. “I was just telling him what happened.”

Owen extends his arm to shake her hand. “How’s TK doing?”

“As well as expected,” she replies. “Any headache, nausea or double vision, TK?”

“No, just a little hazy and feeling a bit out of it.”

“That’s to be expected, I don’t think you have a concussion but I’m going to take you to get scans on your head and stomach to make sure everything is clear.”

TK is being wheeled out by a couple of nurses a few minutes later, but not before Carlos brushes a kiss to his forehead.

Owen and Carlos are sitting in silence when the officer’s voice cuts through it.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” Carlos sighs, hands fidgeting with each other.

“What are you talking about?” Owen frowns.

“TK’s fall. I know the place, I know how an area can appear stable but it isn’t, I learned that the hard way but I never had a fall this bad. And the blood, he was bleeding so much when I found him and…” Carlos trails off, drawing in a shaky breath. “For a moment, I thought we weren’t getting out of there. For a moment, I thought I was going to lose him.”

“Hey, Carlos, look at me,” Owen says.

Carlos slowly lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Owen’s.

“This wasn’t your fault, this was an accident. Don’t blame yourself for what happened. And you didn’t lose him. You got him out of there.”

“I just keep thinking if I had maybe said something a moment earlier…I wouldn’t have had to…it was so hard to do that. I was terrified,” Carlos admits, remembering how his heart hammered against his ribcage during the procedure. “And seeing the amount of pain TK was in…”

Owen places his hand on the back of Carlos’s neck and gives him a supportive squeeze there.

“Listen to me,” Owen says after a moment. “You did everything you could for TK, you took care of him, you pushed through your fear for him, you got him here…you did everything right,” Owen echos TK’s words. “You saved his life, Carlos.”

Carlos swallows and sniffs. “I’d do anything to make sure he’s okay.”

“I know,” Owen nods. “And I’m so incredibly grateful for that. He’s going to be fine, you both will be.”

Carlos knows there’s more than a few nightmares lingering ahead in the wake of TK’s injury, but as long as they’ve got each other, they will be okay. He just needs to know that the worst is truly over.

TK is brought back into the room twenty minutes later, Carlos and Owen getting to their feet as he’s settled in again by the nurses.

Owen sits on the chair while Carlos sits on the edge of the bed, taking TK’s hand.

“I’m okay,” TK gives his boyfriend and father a smile.

Carlos nods, returning the smile through unshed tears, the weight of his conversation with Owen still heavy on his bones.

The doctor appears half an hour later, holding a few files.

“The good news is that all the scans are clear, no head or internal injuries. But I’d like to admit TK for observation, so we can keep a close look on the wound for a couple of days and watch out for an infection,” she explains.

“Whatever you think is best, doctor,” Owen nods.

“Alright then,” the doctor nods. “I’ll get the paperwork started and have TK moved to a room upstairs shortly.”

TK knows it’s for the best, because he honestly feels like crap and doesn’t want him and Carlos to deal with an infection at home, but he can’t help the groan he pushes out.

“It’s okay, babe,” Carlos reassures him, cupping his cheek. “Just to make sure everything is alright, only for a few days.”

TK nods, leaning into Carlos’s touch, the officer grounding him.

*****

They’re thrown another curveball when TK develops a fever overnight.

A cot was set for Carlos in TK’s room while Owen had gone home, making Carlos promise to call or text if anything changes. The officer was awake when TK’s fever was discovered by a nurse. He had to inform Owen with a hastily sent text while keeping up with what the nurse was saying, writing it out in the message. He watched as the nurse administers antibiotics into TK’s IV line and starts him on some medications to reduce the fever and clear out the infection.

TK stirs in bed, the fever taking a toll on his body and making him uncomfortable. He groans and peels his eyelids open to the sunlight gently streaming in through the blinds.

Turning his head to the side, his momentarily blurry vision clears to reveal Judd in the chair by his bedside.

“Judd,” TK whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Hey, brother,” Judd smiles. “Do you want some water?”

TK nods and takes a few sips out of the straw when Judd holds the cup for him.

“He’s getting coffee,” Judd says without TK needing to ask, knowing what’s on the younger man’s mind by the way his eyes darted around the room. “Looked like he needed it, too.”

TK nods. “When did you get here?”

“A while ago, sat with Carlos for a bit. Your dad called this morning and told me what happened and I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Judd gently pats TK’s shoulder. “You’ve been in and out for a while.”

“Yeah,” TK clears his throat. “This fever is really kicking my ass.”

“I, uh, you had me worried there for a second when I heard,” Judd sighs.

“I’m sorry, it was a freak accident. I was scared, too but I’m okay, Carlos took great care of me.”

Judd nods. “You’ll be better in no time, brother,” he reassures him. “Get some more rest,” he adds, seeing the way TK’s eyes drift close. “Your man will be back when you wake up.”

True to Judd’s word, Carlos is by TK’s side the next time he opens his eyes.

“Hi, baby,” Carlos smiles when he sees TK awake. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” TK replies, his body feeling more at ease. “You look better, too,” he points out, taking in Carlos’s appearance.

Carlos nods. “Knowing you’re getting better helped. Your fever decreased and the doctor thinks it will break soon. And they’ve been monitoring your wound and changing the dressing and it looks better, too. They think the infection will clear out by tomorrow.”

“And I’ll go home?”

“And you’ll come home,” Carlos confirms with a smile, carding his fingers through TK’s hair.

TK feels lighter at Carlos’s words, feeling that the worst is truly over now.

“Thank you, ‘Los. You literally carried me and put me back together.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

TK stays silent, knowing there’s more on Carlos’s tongue.

“It just…it felt like you were slipping away from me and…I was so scared,” Carlos closes his eyes and unshed tears shimmer when he opens them a moment later.

“You helped me hold on, Carlos, you gave me strength. And I knew it was going to be okay because you were by my side. I know what I asked wasn’t easy and I know it will take its toll but you did it. You saved me. And I’ll always fight to come back to you,” TK vows.

“I’ll always be right here,” Carlos vows back, brushing a kiss to TK’s temple. “Oh, and mom and dad send their love and well wishes. They were really worried but I told them everything is looking up now. Mom made me promise that we’ll go over for lunch as soon as you’re well enough. She’s probably setting the menu now.”

TK chuckles. “I’d love that. It shouldn’t be too long, though, I’ll be taking some antibiotics for a while and my thigh will be sore but only for a couple of weeks. It will scar, but…”

“Hey,” Carlos squeezes TK’s hands. “Scars show what you overcame, what you survived.”

“What we overcame and survived,” TK corrects. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against TK’s and takes in everything that is TK. Carlos easily lets himself get lost in TK’s scent, a reminder that TK is here and that he’s okay.

And seeing TK sitting up and talking, having regained most of his color now, Carlos can finally properly breathe again since watching TK fall.

*****

When TK suggested they go camping again, Carlos was hesitant at first, his once beloved spot now tainted with the memories of TK getting hurt. But TK reminds him of what that place means to him, not wanting the memory of the accident to be Carlos’s most recent association with the spot. He tells him that going back can help them both, reminds him of the strength of his connection to that campsite and Carlos eventually agrees.

And when they return to the campsite a couple of months later, TK is proven right, in more ways than one.

They go back after TK has fully recovered and Carlos no longer jolts up awake in the middle of the night, covered in a layer of sweat, heaving with TK’s yelled name on his lips.

Carlos is standing by the water, enjoying the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun on his skin when a pair of arms wrap around him from behind and hold him close. He smiles, leaning back into TK’s chest and rests his head against the younger man’s shoulder.

“Still as beautiful as ever,” TK whispers against Carlos’s ear.

Carlos nods. Still, however, a part of him can’t fully enjoy it anymore, the memories of TK’s accident too evident in his mind.

With a kiss planted to Carlos’s temple, TK pulls back and the officer turns to follow a few moments after.

And when his eyes land on TK, who’s down on one knee in front of him, Carlos draws in a deep breath while his eyes go wide.

Tears spring to Carlos’s brown eyes as TK opens the red velvet box in his hands, revealing a stunning silver ring sitting inside.

And the identical bright specks glittering in their eyes when TK asks and Carlos answers with, yes, a million times yes and the lighting surging through their bodies at the kiss that follows…

Well, their love is cosmic, after all.

And now, standing by the lake Carlos had painted for TK before, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they both start to fully heal, souls uplifting, their hearts lightening and beating as one.

With that, this place no longer carries the scars of almost losing TK and everything they are and could be, but now serves as a reminder of the strength of their love, mending the scars and holding the promise of a brighter future ahead.

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redxblueihateloveyou · 4 years ago

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I'm surprised people see Tadashi as the victim in his relationship with Ainosuke, when it's Tadashi the one who time and time again takes away Ainosuke's agency, without being able to see that he is throwing him unto unhappiness. I can't help but think that if Tadashi was not working at Shindo's house, Ainosuke would have maybe left or broke with the family. But he can't do that if he wants the relationship with Tadashi going on, seing how Tadashi is set on enforcing the family rules...

Hmm.. I def agree with the fact that Tadashi is not what most fandom makes out of him, my man (I mean, Adam’s man) is a 100% Slytherin. But I disagree with blaming him for this, after all the revealed info. The environment they were both raised in made their situation complicated.

I like Tadashi a lot, he’s probably my fav thing about this anime, bc he’s a dark horse, and I’m once again surprised, that so little ppl see him for who he really is, portraying him as an innocent puppy, which he is definitely not.

Now to why I think both Tadashi and Adam are victims of the dad and aunties in this situation.

We can of course say “if only they told each other how they really feel...”, but like we can say it about any love story really. Every author knows it’s no fun. The truth is that yes, they both hurt each other, and yes, if they were honest about their feelings things would’ve been different, but as I’ve already wrote under that “toxic” commentary on YT, lets look at the whole situation from both of their point of views:

We know that Adam when he was little always treated Tadashi as an equal, he never ever thought of him as someone lower than him and after their fall out, the only reason for this “harsh” treatment (well, besides their confirmed kink) was that Adam tried to get a reaction out of him, so Tadashi would stand up for himself, bc Ainosuke got mad about Tadashi caving to his dad’s wishes and abandoning him, when he needed him the most.

But now, knowing the fact that Tadashi was his dad’s secretary and was under his control, let’s see it from his perspective: Tadashi wanted to stay by Adam’s side, Adam’s dad implied that if Tadashi did say smth, he’s gonna be.. well, dismissed and they won’t see each other ever again. That’s what caused Tadashi to stay silent in that moment. Ainosuke instead saw this as a “he’s not on my side” thing, well, because. Tadashi won’t tell him his problem, bc dad and aunties control everything, so even if he does tell him, what a teen would do really? He didn’t have any powers back then to make his dad do anything.

And that’s when it all gone to shit, since they both were hurt for their own reasons. It’s easy to say leave the family, but 1stly nobody explained to Adam still that he’s physically and psychologically abused by his family, he sees it as them “loving him” and sadly also loves them, bc nobody told him, that love wasn’t supposed to be like that really. He definitely feels that smth is not right and feels emotionally exhausted there bc of this treatment, but did he ever consider leaving? I really don’t think so. He feels obligated to be worthy of a family, who “loves” him.

Do you think, for example, that Akashi Seijuro hates his dad for what he did to him? No. Does he understand that he wasn’t at fault for what happened to him and that his dad instead of comforting his child after his mother’s death, who was his only safe haven, made everything worse? I don’t think he does. Like his mom gave him basketball, an escape from all that family’s obligations and strictness. After her death, it was the only thing left that brought him joy, but his dad ruined even that, saying that if he’s gonna be bad at it/lose, he’d take it away from him too. Does Akashi see this as emotional abuse? No, he sees it like “well, I have to be the best bc I was born in such powerful family, so if my dad says that I must be best at everything, then I must.”

I personally hate such parents a lot. To me it doesn’t matter if Adam’s dad didn’t know about aunties hitting his child. Like if he was too busy to notice this and have no time for his kid and made his childhood miserable, it doesn’t make it any better really.

Same as with Akashi’s dad. Some are like “he was probably also grieving about his wife”. Emm? He was like this from the beginning, bc he treated Akashi not as his son, but as his heir. And yes, that’s different things. Same with Endeavor and Todoroki. Your child is not your post production thing.

2ndly they were too young, even if they knew about each others feelings and he didn’t feel obligated and told everyone to fuck off, they’d be on the streets now, but also Adam’s dad doesn’t seem like a guy who’d leave them alone really. Also eloping seems very romantic, but I don’t think it is, esp when you’re teens. Did you want him to sell some expensive watch and go live on Hawaii or smth? Bc finding a decent job there would be difficult at this age, esp with everyone knowing who your dad is. Chen Ke from “Antidote” survived bc he was 27 and had connections and some great friends. Adam was in high school, where would he go exactly?

Now let’s go back to now. Obviously all this time it didn’t even cross Tadashi’s mind that for Ainosuke he comes first and that he would throw everyone under the bus to make Tadashi stay with him. As we see at the end, he legit believed that Adam was planning to send him to jail and didn’t get that he said it just to shaken he up and that he knew who he’d set up for this from the beginning.

To Adam obviously it doesn’t matter whether they’re in a quarrel or not, he would never him go. Yes, he’s mad at him, he’s angry and hurt, but Tadashi’s still the person he needs the most, he’s still the person who brightens his days, even tho he deliberately behaves like he annoys him. He always looks at him and looks at him and looks at him, but then hisses smth to hurt him. Bc he knows that he needs him, but he also hates that he needs him, bc he thinks it’s unrequited.

And that’s how their classic romance goes in hellish circles. No one wants to talk as usual. Adam is mad Tadashi is like that bc his dad turned him into a slave with no opinion, while Tadashi is scared that Adam would be taken away from him bc of his ugly family.

Now I still think that no one and I mean no one can take Tadashi from Adam now, he is his precious. So my plan is... if Tadashi made aunties do smth against him or to get rid of him, aunties will go for sure. The problem is Tadashi still doesn’t get that he comes first, so we’re stuck in this hell still.

So anyways, my point is Adam’s heart basically sings “you got a hold of me, don’t even know your power” to Tadashi, but he doesn’t hear it, bc of his insecurities, the way he was raised and his status. But yes, he holds all the power. He’s both Adam’s sanity and insanity. No matter how cheesy it sounds he was basically his only ray of sunshine in the darkness, if you take it away, that’s what it leads to, that’s why Ainosuke-sama needs more ppl who care for him. I don’t want anyone to die next time, just cause Tadashi and Adam fought about where to put their new couch lmao. I’m kidding, but you know what I mean. And kill the aunties, pls seriously, we need to be free.

Also ppl need to remember that like lots of animes/characters are parcially inspired by some other animes/characters, also the chosen seiyuus are also very important, there are lots of stuff like jokes and references, that creators use, from characters being fully inspired by smth like “Assassination classroom” characters based on KNB, to little stuff like Levi dressed in Akashi’s uniform in chibi AOT bc Hiroshi Kamiya. Utsumi already said before stuff like she sometimes think of a perfect voice for the character and then fully forms him, we also know her clear love for sports animes. So yes, I doubt Tadashi/Kuroko thing is a coincidence and even tho someone was like “zone? is this knb or smth?” I was like no, zone is actually a common thing in sports, even tho most associate it with KNB including me, it’s not like its their invention, but there were things inspired by this for sure, and from other sports animes too and no, I don’t mean the basic sports anime tropes, I mean, like way too specific things, some character designes, too. And yes, Langa appearence and personality wise is a rinharu child for real, I can literally split his scenes in “that’s Haru”, “that’s Rin”.

That’s why I’ve said that this situation in fandom reminds me of Kuroko/Akashi situation a lot, bc same as here in KNB ppl for some reason automatically thought that Kuroko is this innocent sheep and Akashi is the wolf (but also like it was Akashi who chose to dress as red riding hood, while Kuroko was a wolf lmao), not even seeing who is in reality more dangerous and who can easily control who. It just buffles me bc it’s not some deep analisys really. I mean once again there’s a reason for the saying that the sub holds all the power over the dom.

And like just bc someone yells or threatens ppl constantly doesn’t necessarily mean he is a psycopatic killer, and just bc someone is quiet and doe-eyed, doesn’t mean he isn’t. I didn’t think we needed to explain this to someone, but aparently we do?

And it honestly kills me just how superficially ppl are watching things these days. It really gives me war flashbacks to stuff like the last mdzs s1 episode, where ppl started to comment things like “how LZ can be so heartless” lmao. Or that anonymous ask “do you think haru misses rin?”. Like you don’t see thing at all? Grey substance no needed, while watching things?

P.S. I also would die to see Adam vs Tadashi race just bc I for some reason can bet all my money, that it’s the same situation as with Akashi refusing to ankle break Kuroko, no matter how mad he is. I just can’t imagine Ainosuke hitting Tadashi in the face with a board. Like 100% sure he wouldn’t even try tbh.

#answered #anonymous #tadaai #tadashi kikuchi #shindo ainosuke #adam x tadashi #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #anime #this is what i think about these two at least

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noahhawthorneauthor · 3 years ago

Text

And I have a new favorite character.

Black, white and bright pink.

Lavender and oil.

Humming and quiet muttering.

I groan and attempt to sit up, only to be rewarded with a splitting headache and black leeching my already blurred vision. “Fuckkk.”

“Ah, that’s what I like to hear. Careful now dearie, you’ve healed up nicely but it’s been a few days.” A cheerful, deep and kind voice meets my ear and I squint my eyes open again. I find fluorescent, curling pink surrounding a pretty face. Black complexion with white streaking their rough, bark like skin. A Mylari.

I take stock of my surroundings, slowly. A modest bedroom, not overly large and well kept. The mattress I’m laying on rests on the floor, and the Mylari is sitting cross legged on the wooden planking. Deep red and off white accent what little decorations there are here, curtains and tapestries, a lounge chair parked near a bookshelf and fireplace. “I’m, alive?”

Full lips matching the color of their hair curve into a smile and the Mylari nods, pink curls bouncing along their square jaw. Their hands are folded neatly in their lap, but big brown eyes are buzzing with excitement. “You’re safe now, dearie.”

“Where am I?”

“Malakim’s Tower, I am Mikah, the Grandmaster, and you are under my protection. No one can harm you while you are here.” The Grandmaster says confidently, full of pride.

I nod slightly, not feeling consoled at all. Malakim’s Tower is supposed to be a sanctuary, a neutral zone off limits to all the kingdoms. It’s still too close to Rasutin for comfort, but the first Temple to the Gods is sacred ground, and the Grandmaster is rumored to have used deadly force against those who don’t respect that rule.

The person before me doesn’t look like they could hurt a fly, but I don’t dare test my luck.

“If I may ask, where did you get that?” Mikah points to my clenched hand and I furrow my brow, confused. I open my fingers and find a necklace I’ve never seen before. As I study the pendant, an anatomically correct heart, an unfamiliar tune and a warm feeling swims through my mind.

“I, I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” The words are heavy, I feel like I should know it, but I don’t. It’s not father’s, or Luna’s.

Father.

Luna.

… Mother.

“They’re … all dead.”

Mikah nods, cheerfulness fading. “We were too late. I came as quick as I could, but it wasn’t enough. I am so sorry.”

“You, you’re part of the System?” I ask, dumbfounded. I knew Father sent a call down the emergency line when the Alynthi caravan arrived, but I didn’t know someone like the Grandmaster, a supposed neutral figure, would be part of the communication lines.

“Oh, I would hope so, although I do only make connections, all you common folk make the sacrifices.”

I study Mikah, unable to wholly believe this person is part of the System. While I’m not exactly a fighter myself, Mikah doesn’t look like they could hurt a fly, and their position is supposed to keep them neutral. Mikah tilts their head, amused at my direct evaluation, never taking their eyes off me. A blood red feather pokes through a layer of curls, hanging from a twisted part of their hair at the nape of their neck.

“You’re the Phoenix.” I breathe.

“I said no such thing.” Mikah waves me off, then ties back their curls with a barely veiled smile. White rimmed glasses are barely visible through the tussle of pink atop their head. They’re dressed in a simple, loose fitting long sleeve with no embroidery, along with a leather apron and brown trousers that are just as plain as the rest of their outfit. The feather hangs with the tangle of pink now held into a pony tail with a strained cord.

“You’re amazing!” I blurt out, then flush with an ungodly amount of embarrassment. “It’s just, they say you’re everywhere at once. And your designs, they’re flawless. Well, mostly, during the last raid those riders you sent out needed to be tweaked just a tad.”

Mikah chuckles, regarding me with such warmth my heart may burst. “Is that so? I prefer to know my critic’s name if I can help it.” A thin pink brow raises and black arms cross in front of a leather apron which is dirtied with blood and oil. My heart aches to have an apron like that.

I open my mouth, then furrow my brows. My name.

I don’t remember it.

Thirty seconds pass and I look away from Mikah for the first time.

They kneel beside me and offer their hand. “We can work with that.”

With a heated, wet smile, I take their rough fingers.

#dark fantasy #aelina isaacs #fantasy author #writing fantasy #writers on tumblr #indie books #writeblr #queer books #indie author #non binary oc #queer oc #fantasy art #fictional characters #character art

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twist-shout-and-shells · 3 years ago

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Loki: Religious Predestination v Free-Will

And how that affects his relationship with Mobius, narratively speaking

So. In case it isn’t clear by *gestures at my whole blog*, I’m a Supernatural blog. I’m a DeanCas blog. I haven’t been around much lately because there are very important, Orwellian things going on in Brasil, but I still keep up with the fandom. And, more important to this post, I still keep up with whatever Marvel’s doing, which means I get up at 7 am every Wednesday to watch Loki.

(Before we start, I’d like to note that I had never actually published any meta on Tumblr. The most I had done was give it to my philosophy and biology teachers as school essays. So, bear with me, okay?)

Well, what does Supernatural have to do with Loki? Not much, except for the narrative they very obviously share. The characters are different, their motivations too, and so are many of the variables that surround, but deep down, at the core, it is the same narrative of Religious Predestination versus Free-Will. And yes, that drives me all the way up the walls.

Religious Predestination is the idea that all events, past, present, and future have been foretold, “written”, predicted by divine, omnipotent beings. There are different types of Predestination, but the two I think fit the most here are Double Predestination and Middle Knowledge (yes, most of my knowledge of this comes from Wikipedia, sue me).

The first claims that God (or whichever omnipotent divine being is responsible for the predestination, in this case, the Time-Keepers) chooses from his own will who will be “condemned” and who will be “saved”. This applies to the show when we consider the fact that Loki has been “predestined” to be a villain. Is all he’s ever been, it’s what he was “born to be”, while the Avengers were all born to be heroes, according to the decrees of the Time-Keepers.

Meanwhile, Middle Knowledge defends that, before the creation of the world (or, in this case, the Sacred Timeline), God already knew every choice that every free-will possessing creature could make in any given circumstance, and He chose the “timeline” that most suited his will. This version also makes sense when we consider the existence of multiple timelines and that the Time-Keepers united them and decided what would be the proper flow of time.

Now, which exact version of Religious Predestination to pick isn’t exactly my point here. My point is that I) everything about the TVA screams Religious Predestination allegory, from the minutemen and other agents being “created” to the words “decree” and “dictate” being thrown around whenever Ravonna is on screen or someone’s talking about the Time-Keepers (who just so happen to be kind of worshipped at the TVA, as there are so many statues of them. They are treated like gods. They are gods.). Do you know what else is a Religious Predestination allegory? Blade Runner. Do you know what was one of the main inspirations for the TVA’s design? Blade Runner! That could mean nothing or that could mean something given *gestures vaguely at the rest of this post*.

So. Loki seeks to escape his “Destiny”. He wants to make his own choices without them being decreed by divine, omnipotent beings. He wants his successes and failures (but mostly his successes) to be his own, and, most important, he doesn’t want to be what everyone expects him to be. Not anymore. Not after what he saw at the TVA. Because everyone is telling him that he was “born to be” a villain (or, at the very least, a side character), he will now want to prove to everyone that he can be more than that. Because he is that “insubordinate, stubborn, and unpredictable” (even if he plans on overthrowing the TVA, I don’t think he sees that as an act of villainy. Maybe he never even planned on actually overthrowing the TVA, maybe he just wanted to get the Variant).

And Mobius, well. Mobius is a good TVA agent. Not all good, of course, ‘cause he has shown more than once that he doesn’t completely agree with how the TVA does things (“They should be scared” “Not of us”), even though, at the end of the day, he believes in them and accepts their mission because he believes they are doing the right thing (unless I’m completely wrong about Mobius, he is the true villain of the show, and has an evil plan of his own. Sorry, I saw a post and now I’m paranoid). So, what happens when an already questioning, though devoted, agent of the Time Variance Authority like Mobius comes into contact with someone like Loki, who pretty much worships Chaos? After having studied Loki’s whole life, and admittedly being a big fan? Well, this happens:

(If looks could kill indeed, Mobius)

Loki is supposed to drag Mobius out of his comfort zone at the TVA, to make him question things harder. Because it would seem “good people are never truly good”, so what’s behind the TVA’s Orwellian, Blade Runner-y scenario? And, even if they’re just really boring and full of paperwork, why should anyone dictate the proper flow of time? What about Free-Will, what about Chaos?

That is how this sort of narrative is supposed to go. Because Loki and Mobius are complete opposites in where they came from and who they wanna be, but at the same time, they’re much alike, as Ravonna even says. She accuses Mobius of being just as insubordinate and stubborn as Loki is. Loki was born and he wanted to be king because he thought (and was led to believe) it was his birthright. Now he wants to tell his own story more than ever ‘cause how dare the Time-Keepers predestinate Loki. Meanwhile, Mobius was created and all he’s ever known is the TVA’s order. But he is stubborn at heart and he craves humanity (the jet ski???), even if he believes he can’t have it because it’s too chaotic or simply not meant for him.

Mobius doesn’t see Loki as a villain (“no one bad is ever truly bad”?). He believes that Loki can be better. And Loki, if I’m reading this right, should help Mobius see that he’s, you know, kind of working for an authoritarian agency, what with “dictating the proper flow of time” and all that. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Multiversal war this, multiversal war that, but isn’t Doctor Strange’s next movie called Multiverse of Madness? Also, has anyone ever actually met the Time-Keepers? Or do all the TVA agents just blindly follow their orders? Maybe we’re bound to have a Multiverse by the end of this anyway.)

(And I’ve seen this narrative before. Faithless man meets angel, makes angel question Heaven’s orders, angel finds out Heaven is not that good after all, angel literally fall for the faithless man. In between, there is a lot of staring and standing too close and betrayals. It’s ridiculous how similar it is.)

So, where was I going with all of this…look, narratively speaking, from what we’ve seen so far, these two are a perfect match (and I’m not even mentioning Loki’s thing for older men in positions of power, which Mobius is completely aware of

). But there is a big, big distance between the narrative pointing towards something and the creative (though, let’s be honest, probably the executive) powers following through.

Now, it wasn’t just the Religious Predestination thing that caught my attention here, no. It wasn’t even the Blade Runner parallels (I’m quite sure Loki has Galatians Syndrome, but that’s a whole other post). It was how similar the plot of Loki is to the plot of Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee. It caught my attention to the point that I’m nervously glancing at my book while writing this. But I don’t want this to be too long, so I’m gonna put that on a separate post.

Anyway, I hope at least some of this made sense, and thank you so much for reading through my rambling!

#loki #loki series #loki x mobius #mobius #the loki meta no one asked for #i know the gifs are really bad #i made them myself #i had never giffed before #yes i have a thing for blade runner #yes im going nuts with this narrative #lokius #mobius m mobius #i don't expect any of this to make sense #it sounded more coherent in my head

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poutyhannie · 4 years ago

Photo

word count: +4k

warnings: fluff, angst, smut, college!fem reader, college!felix, romantic fantasy

** **

You gaze down at the materializing letters stretching across your palm till your elbow. It was a mixture of Korean and English. The Korean characters were few and far in between but were delicate and even while the English letters were long, messy, and leaned to the right.

I’ll need to turn in Prof Behl’s assignment when I go to class and then explain why I can’t go to the museum research trip.

Did I use all my meal swipes? Chris said he wanted to workout at 3…

These notes would often appear on your right arm, sometimes remaining like a tattoo for weeks or fading before you could even read it fully. These were the thoughts of a person whose soul matched your own. He was a college student who is majoring in English with focus on things like creative writing and poetry and you’ve gathered that ‘Chris’ was his roommate.

For as flowery his major was, the boy’s thoughts were surprisingly plain and boring. However, you were thankful for it. Your friend often had dark circles under her eyes. Her connection with her soul partner was being awake at the same time and you were sure her soul’s partner lived on the other side of the world with the opposite time zone. To be honest, you gleaned almost nothing from the notes. The boy probably didn’t know that his thoughts were being recorded on your arm, which you always kept covered with a sleeve. Neither did you know what connection he had with you. Did he feel the emotions you did? Were his dreams your memories? You’ve laid to waste these meaningless thoughts to focus on your life more, not his. There was little reason to go searching him out; if you truly were tied together by souls, fate could do the heavy lifting for you two.

Leaning back at your desk, you shake out your cramping hands. The graphic design project requires that you draw out the story board by hand rather than digitally and you never wished more to curse for it. The reason was, according to your Professor, head of the project you and your classmates are fighting to be a part of use physical copies in the preliminary section. Because you had started in traditional art, relatively it was easy to get back in the swing of things. Didn’t mean that your hand didn’t hurt like a bitch, though. You had everything riding you getting to participate in this project, you’d planned everything out with your counselor and had little attractive options if you didn’t get it, so you return to your drawing.

Your roommate swings open the door, causing you to jump and tug your sleeve on quickly. She throws her bag on her bed with no regards to the loud thump it emits. Her blonde hair rests on your paper when she leans over to look at your drawing. As always, she gushes at your talents and as always, you remind her that her microbiology major is much more impressive.

The night is a lot hotter than comfortable, especially with the tight sleeve you always relegate yourself to, even while sleeping. Ever since you caught your dad reading the thoughts on your arm when you slept, you sometimes go so far as to sleep on your stomach, with your right arm tucked under you. It was uncomfortable reading his thoughts, much less having someone else read them. Yeah, they weren’t always too juicy or detailed, but it still felt wrong to share something like this with anyone else.

“Even family?” You remember your dad asking to your rage.

“Even family.” You hissed.

With a groan, you rise out of bed, your roommate looking up from her five inch thick textbook, illuminated by a soft, yellow dest lamp. Her watery eyes gaze up at you from behind her round glasses. “I’m going out. Can’t sleep.” You tell her.

The night breeze whispers through your hair as you sit on an empty bench in an empty courtyard near your dorms. It’s in time like these that you feel peace. When not a soul is around you and you can finally just sit with yourself. Slowly, you unwind the sleeve and are met with chaotic swirl of words. This happens when he dreams.

Worth, friends, others, internships, classes, empty, running, nothing, darkness.

Your heart pangs. He’s having nightmares again. Instinctively, you begin to wrap your arm up again, not wishing to invade him at his weakest point.

Though you don a mask of indifference towards the scrawl on your arm and effectively the boy around others, you can’t help but hurt for him. He seems swamped with so much to do and feels helpless. When you look down, the chilling sentence on your arm burns in your mind and heart.

I don’t think there’s anyone for me. All I see is black. Am I alone?

Two weeks later, they stay. No matter how many times you unwrap and rewrap your arm, those three sentences never leave. Others come and go, but from that night until now, they stay. And the guilt of not pursuing this boy is eating you alive.

You always assumed he had a connection that allowed him to know of your existence. When you realize that he doesn’t, your passivity almost seems like a sin. How lonely it must be to be alone in a world where everyone has someone. Since then, you’ve been paying close attention to the scrawl on your arm, careful to gather as much info on him as you can decipher. Right now though, in class, you can’t.

Your Professor is announcing the chosen students of the project and you can’t really think about him now.

“And the last student is Y/n.”

You heave out a sign of relief, making a note to thank you Professor. You’re sure she had a few good words to put in for you. “The students I just called will be working with other student in screenwriting. You guys need to pick five scripts you want to animate and the screenwriting students will choose their preferred artist.”

Walking into the classroom with another female peer by your side, you absentmindedly fidget with your sleeve. She walks boldly up to a male student, who’s dark blonde falls onto his freckled cheeks, sticking her hand out. “I’m Madeline,” you hear her say. His eyes snap up towards yours but he immediately looks back to Madeline as they exchange pleasantries.

Madeline is paired up with the freckled boy and you with a quiet, thoughtful boy named Seungmin. He tells you that he is friends with Felix, the freckled boy, so you combine tables and group up. Because this is a project done in your own time, you all choose to work together to bounce ideas off with each other though with how bubbly Madeline is, you wonder how much you guys will get done.

When the topic of soul partners comes up, you and Felix shift uncomfortably. Seungmin gets visions through the eyes of his partner and has seen her face, he tells you guys casually.

How wonderful it must be to know who your soul is tied to, you think bitterly, a twinge of jealousy coursing through you.

Madeline’s green eyes shine as she starts, “I don’t know who they are, but I see colors that has to be tied to them.” She’s a romantic, giddy with excitement at the prospect. It’s so easy to live with just seeing colors; it’s pretty and inconsequential, much a contrast to the invasive cryptics on your arm.

When all your eyes turn to Felix, he purses his lips softly, only able to look down at the table. “I actually don’t know what my connection is. Maybe its unconsciousness because I can never fall asleep at nights,” he jokes, attempting to push the attention off of that topic.

A glossy nail taps Madeline’s pink lips as her dark lashes flutter, “I don’t think so. Insomnia isn’t usually paired with unconsciousness connection.”

Feigning disinterest, Felix shrugs, focusing back to the sketches, “Maybe it has something to do with my color blindness, I’m not sure. Doesn’t really matter,” he mutters, his voice deep and throaty. Madeline gasps, lightly slapping Felix’s arm. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Of course that has to be it!” She exclaims, “It’ll be a subcategory color connection, just like me! Maybe you’ll see colors when you see your partner or when some other unveiling instance occurs.”

She goes into depth about connections, her shoulders bouncing in excitement. Thankfully, this distracts them from asking you about your connection. As her movements and words quicken, the stale bitterness in your mouth consumes you. It’s immature, your distaste for anything about these connections. Just because you have a subjectively unfortunate connection definitely doesn’t mean you should shit on Madeline’s obvious interest in the subject. In fact, Felix and Seungmin seem to enjoy talking with her about it as she has extended knowledge about connections.

However, while Seungmin’s tone that he asks his with questions are amused, his interest piqued, Felix is leaned forward in his chair, his eyes barely concealing desperation. Your heart pangs for him; he’s probably so lost.

Seungmin and Madeline walk in front of you and Felix on the sidewalk, returning to the dorms. They’re in deep conversation about Seungmin’s connection and with Madeline’s knowledge and Seungmin’s intellect, they quickly and thankfully exclude you and Felix.

“I don’t wanna talk about connections,” you declare to him. A small smile spreads across Felix’s face and he nods knowingly. “What made you want to get into animation?” He asks, a pleasant and refreshing topic.

“I haven’t always been the best at art,” you admit with a shrug. “No way!” Felix exclaims, his eyebrows raised, “Your work is so cool, though.”

You laugh at the compliment, “Yeah, well it took me a while to get here and I didn’t want to throw away that work, so here I am. What about you? Why did you want to get into script writing?”

Felix’s eyes soften and he stares off past the line of buildings, into the horizon. “I feel like I can see different things with words. Does that make sense?” He pauses, gathering his thoughts, “They open up worlds and ideas that I can’t experience and it makes me feel closer to normal. It makes me feel alive.”

“Like, you can imagine how colors feel or look through words?”

He nods, looking back at you with a playful look, “That’s another reason why I like your work so much. The values are clear and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything by not seeing color.”

The genuine, heartfelt comment makes your heart warm and a smile spread across your face, “Yeah, I focus a lot on just greyscale because composition is the most important aspect to my art. Stuff like color theory, while important, it basically inconsequential if you can’t even tell what’s going on in the picture.”

Felix’s voice quiets as he shoots a look up at Madeline’s back, “Yeah, I didn’t want to choose Madeline’s for that reason, but she really thought that the color use in my script would work in perfect tandem with her style and I really couldn’t tell whether she’s right or not,” he shrugs, his lips pulling into a line.

“Oh, totally,” you say quickly, not wishing to have Felix question his choice, “It makes total sense and in some instances color can tell more of a story than composition and values can. It was wise to team with her.” Maybe your intentions of reassuring Felix was too obvious because his eyes crinkle deeply when he gives you a big, knowing smile.

A week into your work and the very basic shapes for the animation is finished. Working with Seungmin is wonderful as he has a clear direction and even pictures he’s taken to show you what he envisions. Concentration pinches Felix’s eyebrows together and he and Madeline converse as you watch them from the other end of the table.

An hour or two pass and you stand up to stretch, announcing that you’re gonna take a bathroom break to which they agree is a wonderful idea. Coming out of the bathroom, you wrap up your sleeve, peeking to see what the ink says this time. The three words that you’re familiar with; that have been etched into your sink for weeks don’t make your heart stop, but the ones under it.

Am I alone? She needs to add more clear composition so I can actually tell what’s going on.

Your eyes snap up to the blond haired boy. That’s exactly what Felix told you a day ago. Its him?

To your confusion, he now stares, awestruck at Madeline. There’s a sinking in your stomach but you can’t tell why. Gasping, his eyes widen as he takes her hands. “Madeline…I think,” he stumbles over his words, clearly flabbergasted. “I-I’m seeing color now, I think.”

She squeals, squeezing his hands tightly, “When? Just now? What happened?” His dark eyes look dazes and he steps back. His eyes wander from the ground her hers and he whispers, “When I saw you.” Turning your back on them, you leave quickly, not wishing to intrude on Felix’s revelation.

You resume your seat next to Seungmin, heaving a sigh. “What’s wrong?” His lips form a slight pout and his head tilts to the side. You shake your head, waving a hand, “Felix and Madeline are soul partners. He just found out.” From your peripheral, you see Seungmin smile widely. You laugh to yourself, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks at your previous hasty conclusion. You really are desperate for the person who matches your soul.

“That’s great,” he taps your arm with his hand, hidden by his sweater’s sleeve, “Why do you look so bummed, though?”

You purse your lips, “It just sucks to be a late bloomer. I don’t know who my partner is,” you tell him as the bitterness fills your mouth again. Seungmin nods firmly, his fingers tapping your arm again, “At least you know that you have one, though. Felix didn’t even know whether he was alone or not.”

“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to ignore the gnawing guilt of your selfishness, “it just sucks.”

“Of course but just give it time,” Seungmin advises, patting your shoulder softly.

You and Seungmin gaze blankly at Felix and Madeline as they both gush over each other. You can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when Felix gingerly strokes her cheek.

Clapping, Seungmin returns to the story board, pointing at a slide, “I like the idea with this one, but if you’ll look here,” he pulls out a picture he took of a deep, dark green forest that just seems to dissolve into black, “I want the composition to be more dangerous. Like, the characters are being drawn into darkness and they won’t have any way to escape.” Nodding quickly, you add rough shading and lines to your preexisting work to cater to Seungmin’s request.

“Perfect,” he beams his toothy smile at you.

By the time the project is all but done, Felix and Madeline are attached at the hip or the hand or the face. You try not to watch them, jealousy foaming in your throat. Felix’s eyelashes flutter against his freckles and his lips are glossy as Madeline gently strokes his cheek, smiling softly. Such a romantic—it would make sense that her seeing colors would be paired with his past complete colorblindness. He gushes over her work and her use of color, his voice giddy with excitement at finally seeing color, finally being normal.

While your initial bitterness at their fortune has washed away into passivity, you can’t bring yourself to look at your arm like you used to. In a way, you’re foolishly upset at you partner for not giving you anymore clues that would lead you to him. It’s foolish because he doesn’t know you can read what’s on his mind.

You pick up your artist’s hand brace from your dorm bed and begin unwrapping your arm to put it on, barely sparing the black scrawl a glance.

Its not all black anymore. I can see it. I can see her.

Dread clenches your gut as your eyes travel down to the next single word.

Madeline.

There’s a buzzing white in your head as you fumble to get your shoes on, tripping out into the hallway, breaking into a sprint towards Madeline’s dorm, on the other side of the campus. Whirling confusing overcomes your mimd and you feel like you’re suffocating, the only goal is to find an answer. You don’t know when hints of this conclusion plagued your mind. Maybe it was that day, months ago at the bathroom. Maybe it was a deeper jealousy at seeing Felix kissing Madeline. It didn’t matter anymore, you frantically knocked at her door, out of breath and gasping.

Her green eyes are wide and her pink lips are swollen, she’s almost as out of breath as you are. She makes no move to hide Felix, who’s pulling on a shirt behind her shoulder. Nervousness pangs in your throat but you shove past her and shed your arm to Felix.

“Wh-what’s this, Y/n?” He asks, eyes bouncing off your arm to your face, uncomfortable with looking at something you’ve explained to him is so precious and private to you.

“Read it,” you beg, eyes flicking from his face to Madeline’s. She furrows her shapely eyebrows, gingerly taking your cold arm into her soft hands. At Madeline’s brazenness, Felix finds it in himself to look down at your arm.

Her grip is firm but you could rip away from it at any moment.

Madeline’s eyes are wild and horror fills them as she looks up at Felix. You try desperately to explain, “I-I don’t know what this means either, but that day that you first saw color, Felix, there were your exact words to me about your project on my arm.”

He laughs to deflect how uncomfortable he feels, it comes out too harsh and grates against your neck, raising heat into your face. “Y/n I know you really wanna find your partner, but this is crazy. Don’t try to suggest stuff like this. Madeline and I are partners, everything has been perfect since that day for us.”

He looks over to Madeline for reassurance, but she doesn’t meet his eyes. A soft, vulnerable look plagues her eyes as she looks up at you. Felix stutters, confused why she wouldn’t immediately agree with him. “Lix,” she inhales deeply, “for my connection, you know how I see colors? Those are actually s-supposed to go away when I meet my partner.” You realize the vulnerable look in her eyes was actually guilt.

“What?” His voice is a breath, like he’s been struck in the chest and is left gasping for air. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to meet them because I don’t want to loose my color—it’d be like dying for me and I’m really happy with you. Aren’t you happy with me too?” Felix’s lips hang open and his face is frowning in confusion, “So you’ve been using me when you knew I wasn’t yours?” Madeline’s eyes fill with guilty tears and she nods. As much as you can understand why she did what she did, anger and bitterness towards her, towards loosing so much time with Felix consumes you.

“Then you never deserved him,” you hiss, possessively retracting your arm into your body, hiding the words against your bosom.

You and Felix sit wordless on a bench in a park in a part of town you were unfamiliar with.

“So it was you this entire time?”

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” your voice cracks and you bite your lip to prevent it from trembling, “I really didn’t know for sure and I doubted what I knew because you just seemed so happy with her.”

He scoffs loudly, running a hand through his silver hair, “Yeah and look what that amounted to.”

Quietly, you respond, “It amounted to us realizing. That means something.”

Felix exhales slowly, turning to face you, his eyes tired and sad, “Yeah, at least we realized now—” he stops abruptly, pausing to collect himself, “God, I was so stupid, just because I started seeing color one random day because she was in front of me?” He scoffs again, slouching into the bench.

“It made sense though, you were both eager to get your partners and—”

“But to leave you alone?” His voice is raw and soft, “I left you alone when you were right there.” Slowly, as if he were a hologram or mirage you couldn’t quite reach, you extend your hand to rest your hand on his warm cheek, almost shocked that he’s there. Unintentionally, he leans into your hand, closing his eyes gently. “We can begin now. Rather a late start than never. We have the rest of our lives to get it right.”

Felix buries his face into the crook of your shoulder, pressing firm, confident kisses and hot, stinging hickies into your neck. You run your hands up the bare expanse of his back and up to his hair. Flush spreads across your cheeks as he lifts himself up to gaze down at your bare chest but you don’t cover yourself up. You have nothing to hide. “Have you ever done this before?” You whisper to him. He shakes his head softly, leaning down to trail kisses from the base of your neck through the valley between your breasts. Lower, his kisses get wetter as he gets closer to your aching hotness. As if you’re made of paper, Felix gingerly spreads your legs. The cold air hitting your core causes you to flinch, but Felix’s warm palm presses slowly against you, calming the sensation into pleasure.

“May I?”

You whine out a ‘yes’, groaning when his sinks a finger into your core. It sucks his finger in and Felix barely contains a moan at the sensation, imagining how you’d feel around him. Slowly, he begins to pump his single finger into you before adding another and scissoring deep. Curling his fingers, he brushes your sweet spot, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

Smiling to himself, he continues to work at that spot until you’re gasping and moaning incessantly. He pulls out and you whine immediately but he positions himself above you, gazing down at you with adoration even while his impossibly hard dick pokes against you. “Hurry, Lixie, please do it,” you whine and he hushes you with a kiss, slowly sliding in and caressing his tongue against yours when you gasp. Your face is scrunched up at the unfamiliar stretch but Felix can’t help but smile down at you, endeared. His eyes are dark at the sensation of him dragging against your walls. When you begin to relax around him, you start whining again and he giggles, slowly beginning to thrust up into you. There’s nothing desperate or wanton about his movements against you. He’s being gentle, letting you feel him as his drags along your walls though it takes all his self control to not increase the pace. It’s deep and rhythmic, his hips against yours. He fills you up and groans as you seem to suck him up, your juices mixing with his precum.

“Baby, you’re so warm and so—mhg—tight,” he gasps against you, “Can I go faster?”

“Yeah,” you’re breathless and rake your fingers across his back when he starts to do just that. He positions his hip in a way that has himself dragging across your sweet spot and you screaming with every thrust. He reaches down to rub your clit, stars and lights sparking across your vision as a burning coil begins wind in your gut. The groans and moans he lets out when you unintentionally clench around him paired with the way his movements quicken as he becomes desperate push you closer. “Y/n, I’m g-gonna cum,” he whispers, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. “Me too, Lixie,” you gasp, running your hands over his body.

“I love you.” Your high crashes over you, white pleasure electrifying you through your body as you feel Felix shoot into you. The burning pleasure overcomes your senses as he collapses next to you, his hair sticking to his forehead as he pants into your neck, smiling deeply in pure bliss. Euphoric, you tug him closer, pressing a kiss to the freckle on the tip of his nose, onto both his cheeks, and finally onto his warm, glossy lips.

“I love you too, Lixie.” He is yours and you are his. That’s how it was predestined and you both have fulfilled destiny.

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

I spun the wheel! Trapped + Beach = John :)

From Across The Ocean

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: John, Scott

And this should be the last one from the original batch that came through, at least. Sorry it’s taken a whole week to answer... uni is hectic and my muses rebelled by being unco-operative.

I’m eyeing this prompt and I’m thinking this might get a little into panic attack territory, rather than anything physically whumpy, so small warning there.

Spin the wheel of whump and give me a character!

This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea and John had no idea why he’d ever agreed to it. Had he even agreed to it, or was it one of those times where no-one had bothered to ask him and he’d just been dragged along anyway? It had been a few years since the last time that had happened, his family learning their lesson about forcing him out of his comfort zone the hard way, and he found it hard to believe that they’d make that mistake again.

Then again, his family weren’t here. His family were back home, probably fast asleep because of the time difference, leaving him with a group of college peers who had decided for some reason that the best thing to do was a day trip to the beach. He’d been dragged, entirely reluctantly, to join them with promises that it was a quiet beach and no, there wouldn’t be many people.

Clearly, they thought it was a little white lie and that he’d get over it. His course mates were still strangers, acquaintances at best, and hadn’t yet understood that his reclusive nature was entirely by choice. He wasn’t shy, he just didn’t like people.

And he hated crowds.

The beach was a hive of activity, teeming with humans in a living, breathing, pulse of people. He’d frozen up, unable to take another foot forwards, to join that monster, and his stupid, ignorant course mates had just laughed and dragged him through the sand until he was stuck right in the heart of it all.

Then they’d left him, dumped him on bag duty on the assumption that he was just being antisocial and therefore could guard their bags while they all threw themselves into the sea - teeming with almost as many bodies as the sand of the beach itself - and all John could feel was the pressure of so many people.

Packed in like sardines, people kept touching him, a hand on his shoulder as they skipped over the bags piled around him in a scrambled defensive barrier that completely failed at its designated task, tripping over his feet even though he was hugging his knees tightly to his body, trying to make himself small enough that no-one would notice him, no-one would touch him.

It didn’t help. It didn’t stop the noise, didn’t stop the people brushing past him, didn’t stop the claustrophobia or the choked-up feeling in his throat. Breathing was hard, too hard, and he should unfurl himself, but that meant making a larger surface area for people to interact with, and just the thought of that tightened his airways more.

He couldn’t get out. He didn’t care about the bags, would happily abandon them in a heartbeat if it meant escaping, no matter how his course mates would react, but getting out meant clambering over warm bodies, meant doing to other people what was being done to him, meant more physical contact, and the mere idea of it was enough to have tears running down his cheeks, air harder and harder to draw in.

He was trapped. No way out, no escape, and he curled up tighter, praying for the hell to miraculously disappear.

His phone dug into his thigh, poking through the thin shorts he’d been prodded into wearing for the trip, and it was stupid, but John was long past rational thought as he fumbled it from his pocket, almost dropping it into the sand when trembling fingers failed to grip it properly, and instinctively mashed the first number on speed dial.

Almost immediately, he went to end the call, a spike of rationality hitting again. A phone call wasn’t going to help, and the time difference meant he’d still be asleep anyway and-

“John?”

The call connected before he could cut it, his big brother’s voice distorted by the speakers and still drowsy with sleep, and his trembling fingers froze just short of the end call symbol.

“John, are you okay?”

Scott’s first instinct was concern, even though he was clearly still waking up, but perhaps that should be because he was still waking up. John knew the timezones, did the math instinctively, and never called them before dawn.

Back in Kansas, dawn was still a little way off.

“John?”

Concern was rapidly shifting to worry, and it was that familiar tone, the big brother sensing something was wrong and immediately hunting for ways to set things right, that had him whimpering his brother’s name.

Scotty. He hadn’t called him that in years. Not like this, a plea and a prayer.

“I’m here, John,” Scott promised, even though he was just a voice in his ear, not one of the warm bodies pressing against him - the only warm body John ever willingly suffered on a regular basis, because the rest of the world was one thing, but his big brother was a barrier of safety. “Can you talk to me?”

The sleep had vanished from his voice, big brother wide awake at the prospect of a little brother in distress. John hadn’t been that little brother in years.

Since the last time he’d called for Scotty in that little whimpered plea and prayer.

He tried, searched for words, attempted to vocalise them, but he couldn’t grasp them, couldn’t get his breathing to stop hitching long enough for his lips to form them.

“Okay, okay.” Scott cut through his attempts, calm and steady in a whirlwind world that wouldn’t stay still. “Okay, John, you need to breathe. Can you take a breath for me? As deep as you can.”

He tried, clinging to his brother’s voice, but his throat hitched again and it turned into the gasp of a drowning man. Scott stayed steady in his ear, reassuring him, coaxing him to try again, counting him until there was air reaching his lungs again and wrapping him in the security of a big brother.

There was no demand what was wrong. No insistence that he talk to him, even though John knew Scott had to be panicking and running through scenario after scenario in his head, trying to work out what had sparked the whole mess. Just reassurance, a steady voice in his ear keeping him grounded and helping him breathe.

“Sorry.” It slipped out, an apology for worrying his brother, for waking him up, for forcing him to help him from the other side of the Atlantic.

“Don’t apologise.” Scott’s reply was quick, automatic, and predictable. “I’m always here if you need me, John. Always.” The last word was more than a promise, it was an insistence, a full binding oath. “Where are you?”

The warm bodies were still there, but Scott’s voice was like a forcefield, keeping the full force of them from hitting him. Keeping him safe.

He told him, even though there was nothing Scott could do about it. His big brother couldn’t work miracles, no matter how hard he tried, but a small part of John clung to the childish hope that maybe, just maybe, Scott would appear in front of him and guide him out of there.

Of course, that didn’t happen. Scott was in Kansas, teleportation still only existed in fiction, and John was on a beach in England.

What did happen, a while later but John was still on the phone, still talking to Scott about anything and everything and trying desperately to forget where he was, was a flash of blond and designer sunglasses covering bright blue eyes.

“John, darling,” Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward said, delicately picking her way past the warm bodies towards him, her own forcefield of upper class and a scowling bodyguard parting them like the old story of Moses and the Red Sea. “You look rather lost.”

A perfectly manicured hand hovered in front of him, not quite touching but an invitation, and John accepted it.

The bags were forgotten, a lesson for course mates to learn, as she led him out through the crowds and into a familiar pink car.

His phone was still pressed to his ear, the call still connected even though Scott had stopped talking when John had stopped responding, and John didn’t know how he’d done it, but, “Scott?”

“Yes, John?”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, little brother.”

There was only one way Penelope could have known to come looking for him.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #thunderangst #drabbles #such-a-random-rambler #from across the ocean

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

Text

A story by heroes and villains

Virgil Anker: better together

Virgil learns to accept help from others.

“Ugh! I am done!” Virgil glanced up from his assignment to see Roman let himself fall back into his chair with relief. Their first study session had gone rather well. They should probably reserve one of the discussion booths next time. The poor librarian had needed to remind them to be quiet multiple times. They’d just had too much fun. But Virgil could understand Roman’s exhaustion. It was time they wrapped things up. “Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” he muttered absentmindedly as he focused once more.

“Want me to read it trough for you?”

Virgil looked up in surprise. “You don’t…” he started. He didn’t even know why he was feeling like he’d done something wrong right now. Picani might be able to help him figure it out during their session after Virgil got back from his trip to the zoo with uncle Thomas tomorrow.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble.” Right. Roman was like that. For everyone, not just him. It was okay to let him help. Virgil found himself smiling a little sheepishly and nodded. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed quickly turning back to his work.

When he finished his essay he looked up to find Roman in the zone. Which was excellent. It made it easier to sneak up on him. Apparently those with ADHD were extra susceptible to his cloak. Did he have proof for that? Well it was more of a hypothesis, but he had no means to test it. It made sense though.

And Roman had yet to prove him wrong.

Virgil cloaked himself, moved to stand right next to Roman and looked over his shoulder. It looked like he was designing a fashion line. Trans girl dresses, Pansexual messenger bags… as well as formal clothing inspired by broadway and Disney characters it seemed. He dropped his cloak.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes.” Virgil had to stifle his laughter when that observation nearly made Roman jump 4 feet in the air.

“Will you stop that!?” he hissed.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?” he suggested casually, allowing himself to imagine starting a brand with Roman someday.

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed, making Virgil’s heart jump.

He played it cool though. He’d gotten good at that over the last two years. Pretending that Roman’s smile didn’t turn his insides upside down. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.” He was. He hoped to catch a glimpse when he went out tonight.

“I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” It was nice, having someone believe in him like that. Other than his dads that is.

“We’ll see,” he smiled as he handed Roman his laptop.

“Well,” Roman announced after a while. “I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge.”

Virgil felt himself relax at that. Roman wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!”

Virgil chuckled and lead the hungry Hispanic to the restaurant he’d suggested.

Virgil reminded himself over and over that this wasn’t a date, but it was very hard. Especially when, near the end of their meal Roman suddenly started acting nervous. “So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…? Que?” Virgil watched Roman look at his watch and jump.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” With that he hung up and took out his wallet. Rambling all the way.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or a cab or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills before rushing away. Leaving Virgil behind a little stunned. Maybe it was a family thing? It looked urgent.

He took the bus as it was cheaper and there was a stop in his new street.

The house was nice. Though Virgil wasn’t used to it yet. Especially now, when his dads weren’t home, it felt weird being here. Luckily he didn’t plan on staying too long.

He texted his dad while getting dressed. By the time he left the house, he got a reply.

“Don’t wait up. Patton and Thomas say hi. Thomas wants to remind you of the trip to the zoo tomorrow.” Virgil smiled, he didn’t know uncle Thomas was going to be there too… Maybe these projects were just poker nights with the boys. He might have to ask them about it when they got home.

Regardless, duty called.

Virgil was starting to think that he might need to do take a break from turning in evidence for a bit. The criminals were getting agitated.

“I say we attack now! They are weak! We can take them down easily!” he heard one guy suggest. No, turf wars were a bad idea. Clearly he hadn’t thought about maintaining the power balance enough. Good thing he was about to even the playing field again. All these idiots had to do was get caught on his camera with something very illegal, preferably saying the bosses name or any clue the police could use for some kind of big bust.

The leader of this troupe seemed rather well respected. Virgil had learned to spot the difference between the ranks, and if this guy wasn’t answering to the big guy himself, then he was pretty close.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” The big dude in question stated.

A truce? Was he that much of a threat? Should he feel flattered or scared?

The tugs argued back and forth a bit more and Virgil was seriously considering just getting out of here. Maybe he could trip up some lower tier members. Or go back to helping lost travelers for a while. Just enough to make the higher ups relax again. They wouldn’t rebuild their ranks too much if they thought it was an inside job or something. Right?

And if they’d realized someone was giving the cops everything they needed to stop them, they wouldn’t plan anything major for a while. Unless the boss was stupid.

Suddenly Virgil saw a figure descend from the roof. He made a hero landing, straight from a superhero movie.

Virgil’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be…

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” Dream Prince asked with a deep, booming voice as he rose up, wearing the full costume Virgil had designed. Including the cape. What was he doing here? Stupid question. He was government sanctioned. The chief was on the news a few days ago claiming him as one of theirs.

Which meant she probably asked him to look for Virgil. Does that woman never give up?

The gang was confused by his appearance. One of them calling the young hero ‘prince clown’. Virgil was too far away to see it, but he was willing to bet the clown in question was not too pleased with that.

With a gesture from the leader the gang was silenced. “Sure kid,” he said in a voice that made Virgil stand on high alert. “Got mine right here.”

Or find the stories of Logan and Roman in the Master post

Before Virgil could react in any meaningful way, Prince had shielded himself with his cape and the leader fired at least four rounds at him. The hero was unharmed though. The sounds of bullets falling to the ground the only evidence that they had ever left the barrel in the first place.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” Prince complained as he dropped the cape. And Virgil had to admit, it looked very cool. “I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced.

The sound of guns being armed was his only answer. Which was stupid. That was already shown not to work. But sure, shoot with more guns. Don’t actually use your brain or anything. Prince let out an annoyed sigh as he hung his cape from a water pipe. “Fine.” And just like that, he sped towards the criminals through a rain of bullets.

It seemed like he had it handled, and Virgil was pretty sure that he would notice he was there no matter how well he cloaked himself if he got involved. And if he was here to look for him and bring him in for whatever the chief had planned…

Still, he couldn’t make himself just stand by.

He jumped in and helped disarm the criminals and caught a few punches, Prince seemed unlikely to dodge. Pretty soon he felt like Prince was adapting his fighting to his presence which told him that he was in fact spotted.

Soon the gang was down on the ground and their disassembled guns were on a pile on the floor. Virgil returned to the shadows once the sirens lit up the alley.

Prince donned his cloak once more and walked up to where the leader laid, showing off his boot.

“So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” Virgil’s eyes widened as he saw Prince show off the boot. He was wearing the heeled boots? Sure he pulled them off, but that wasn’t a smart move. He couldn’t have had that much time to practice with them yet. Virgil sent the design on Tuesday. Unless… Maybe he’d worn heels before? That was a possibility. Though crime fighting in heels couldn’t be comfortable… Still, it did make the whole thing extra cool, Virgil had to admit.

Suddenly Dream Prince looked up at him and gave a playful wink. So he had noticed him. And he could see him even though he was cloaked right now… Or not quite. He wasn’t looking directly at him. So he knew he was there, just not where exactly.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here,” one of the police officers who’d come to make the arrests told Prince. The young hero turned to him and bowed.

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” While he turned around he made a gesture with his hand. Virgil could tell he was being asked to follow.

Part of him wanted to run the other way. But he was curious.

He wanted to take a good look at the costume. He wanted to scold Prince. He wanted to give him a message for the chief. Maybe find out what she wanted from him.

So he followed him all the way to a rooftop.

The city lights illuminated Prince from the back, his cape floating in the wind.

Virgil wished he could take a picture. Roman would love this.

Prince took a step forward and bowed for him. He was really sticking to this Prince thing huh?

“Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assist now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.” So he had figured out when they’d met.

Virgil couldn’t help a chuckle. He was still cloaking himself. He’d never talked to someone like this before so he had no clue if and how that affected his voice.

“Phantom huh?” Hmm. He kind of liked it. Sure it confirmed that prince was here due to chief. But it was a cool nickname.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?” Did he sound a bit catty? Maybe. Was what Prince did idiotic? Absolutely.

Prince didn’t seem to agree. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood.”

Virgil looked away. Damn. He’d hoped Prince was going to live up to Virgil’s original nickname for him. But he was no idiot.

“Do you have something against the program?” Prince pressed.

“No I…” Virgil tried to steady himself. It wasn’t Prince’s fault that he was pissed at his boss. “Sorry I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Okay, so he really should give this guy more credit.

“Um… Well… I just…” He couldn’t tell him he was curious about him. That would give away interest on his part and he was not ready to let anything personal slide. He hated being put on the spot like this. Damn, this was not helping the stoic, mysterious guy aura he was going for.

“You interrupted my stake out!” he recalled. Right, one of the reasons he was mad at Prince. The lecture he’d interrupted with his observations.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Sure, he had been thinking about needing to go more low profile for a while to let the rumors simmer out. But still.

“I apologize,” Prince replied sincerely with another bow. It was hard to be mad with this guy. Perfect hero material. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.”

He appreciated the concern really. But he overlooked one crucial detail.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.” He couldn’t let him get himself on the bad guys’ list. Not because he thought he needed to protect him. Or maybe a little. When had he started feeling responsible for Prince? Was this how his dad felt? Why he’d tried to keep him from being overly self-sacrificing as a kid?

“You got dirt on them?” Prince wondered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really,” just some guesses and rumors. “But you are out in the open.” They’d know who to go after with him. “This is not your kind of mission Royal pain. And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…” Virgil got distracted when Prince crossed his arm and smirked smugly. “You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?”

That smug little… Fine he got him there.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, trying to dismiss the statement. “It’s not like I came looking for you.” He just… Did the right thing when they met up.

Prince was the one dreaming if he thought he felt any kind of responsibility towards him. He was just trying to… To be someone he could be proud of. That was why he was doing this. To not feel week and useless. To help people, even if he couldn’t always help those he felt closest to.

“Still… Thank you…” Prince said gently, about to step forward again. But then he cringed and clutched his head. “Ow!”

The young hero sounded more annoyed than in pain.

He pressed a finger to his ear. Communicating with whoever was on the other line no doubt. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?” Virgil could hear him hiss in the communication device, dropping the regal persona completely. Virgil bit back his amusement.

“I am fine, not a scratch on me,” Prince replied annoyed. “I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And then he seemed to take something out of his ear. He was so lucky Virgil wasn’t a bad guy or he’d just made it a lot easier on him to take him out.

“Sorry,” Prince sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.”

“Mentor?” Virgil wondered. He’d heard about the GTA program and it’s monitors in the past. But mentors… that sounded a bit more one on one than just people who told you what to do.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” Prince joked.

“Oh…” Virgil didn’t know what to say to that. It was… Something he’d been wanting for a while now. For a way to test all that he could do. To figure out the shield, push the limits of his cloak and try and use his healing for others. Someone to help him strategize, to talk with when he’d had a tough night. But unless he was ready to come clean with his dad, that was out of his reach.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself.”

Virgil looked at the offered hand. Maybe, it wasn’t impossible after all.

He considered his options. But it seemed like there was no catch to this offer. So he closed the gap and shook his hand.

“I’ll see you next time,” Prince offered kindly before letting go and running straight of the rooftop as if there was a walkway just for him.

Virgil smirked. Maybe he should wrap it up for tonight. Prince and the other heroes had the area covered. He’d collect the information he had on the tugs that were arrested tonight. Next time he saw Dream Prince, he’d hand that information to him.

If things went well… This could be a good partnership.

End of this part. Meet Janus and learn his side

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #tw: guns #tw: violence #tw: gunshot #hero au #fic

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