#next part will be last finally

[allimili]

What could've been. Pt 3

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Party of one (divided into four)

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Cale blinks, eyes bleary. He's being held in Choi Han's arms, tucked close to his chest. Wince. Not only does his head hurt, his body hurts now too.

Being ten is strange. Strange in the way that his body doesn't match his mind anymore. Strange in the way that he feels like a stranger in someone else's home. It reminds him of a memory, older than he is, of when he first walked into the orphanage. Out of place. The kids already there looked at him like he was no different from them, but it was strange to finally be labeled an orphan despite having been without parents for most of his life, now.

The 7 year olds memories tucked away in his mind welcome the 10 year old in. Cale frowns.

A habit from his older years, and younger ones, has him checking his environment before his condition.

"I will go to Duke Fredo." He hears Eruhaben declare to everyone in the room, clearly having a meeting of sorts. Cale is tucked so close to Choi Han that his being awake goes unnoticed. Or, if it is noticed, no one says anything about Cale listening in.

Rosalyn nods. "The White Star is planning something in Cale's absence. We need to find out what that is," somberly, she adds, "Before 'he' decides to do something about it first."

Cale yawns in the middle of her talking, and the buzzing in his ears prevents him from hearing the last part. Duke Fredo... Cale remembers being Naru, for a time. Cookies and the White Star... his head aches. It feels, very accurately, like a long needle is being inserted into his skull and poking around in his brain.

"Cale?" Choi Han squeezes his shoulder. The 10 year old in his arms frowns more at how comfortably he's being held. How long has Choi Han been carrying him? He recalls being carried by Choi Han many times. It makes him recall other things, such as pain and coughing up blood. He assertively stops thinking about it.

The meeting on the other side of the room comes to an end at Cale's emerging consciousness. The eyes on him feel familiar. It reminds him of the pitiful looks he got when he wandered the cold streets in nothing but a school uniform. His memory flickers and it suddenly reminds him again of the team, when they looked at him as the Team Leader.

Though, he can't think of any reason why they're staring at him like that.

Finally, with a twang of pain in his skull, he realizes that they're looking at him with expectation... he doesn't connect the dots that their expressions are that of worry. Was there something he missed? He yawns again, tears coming to his eyes, and he calmly wipes them away before kicking his legs.

"I want down."

Choi Han sets him on the ground, steadying him on his wobbly, sleepy legs. Cale is thinking about the conversation that Eruhanen and Rosalyn just had when hunger pains radiate from his stomach like twisting tendrils.

-Sorry Cale! I took longer to heal your body because of the curse, but it's fixed now!

Clutching his stomach with one hand, he covers his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep the blood in his hand as he coughs wetly. It tastes familiar, beyond the familiarity he had with it at 10, but rather its a lifetime of familiarity that cannot be contained in just the words, 'he tasted blood.' It was a taste he knew better than food or water.

His chest feels better, he notes. His head still hurts, unfortunately, but he shouldn't expect too much.

It also came out of his nose. Gross.

With that underwhelming thought, he keeps the blood carefully cupped in his hand. Uncle hated when he got blood on the-

Uncle is...

Right.

But still... he shouldn't get blood on his Hyung-nim's nice carpet. It's probably... expen... sive.

Noise buzzes around him, someone is touching his shoulder, but he's coughing blood again, again, and again, and it feels awful as his stomach twists and writhes with the hunger and pain that he's felt before, but it makes him ravenous all the same.

Hungry. He could eat anything right now. He remembers the tasteless rock he ate to get Super Rock's Ancient Power. He'd even eat a normal rock.

But still, even in his hunger, he keeps his mouth closed.

He can't bring himself to ask for food.

Not even from Raon. Something in his core, in his gut and his heart and his soul, tells him that he shouldn't ask. How could he take food from Raon? Well, it's Raon's supply of food for Cale anyway, so it's okay. But taking food from a child? But Cale is a child too--

"Human! That's your hungry face! Quickly eat this pie!" Raon cries out and there's suddenly a slightly smashed slice of apple pie in his face. How are there already tears on it...?

He grabs it without thinking hard.

The hunger doesn't care about tears, and soon Cale is stuffing his face with the salty apple pie with a fervor that he, at 10, would normally never have shown to anyone. He eats without chewing with a familiarity that makes him want to cry.

Choi Han's hand shakes on Cale's shoulder.

He should've checked Cale's condition beforehand. He saw that Cale used the ancient powers but still, Cale only got his external wounds treated. Why did he let his happen? He thought that it would be okay this time. Cale was young now and he wasn't showing a response for a long time, so he didn't think. There's no excuse for this.

Cale eats desperately, as if his life depends on it, and Choi Han can't help the way his heart cracks at the sight. And burns with frustration at his own uselessness.

Drip.

The room is quiet.

Drop.

"Human! Do-do you need more apple pie?!" Raon yells, panicking, bringing out more apple pie as Cale's cheeks become wet with silent tears. He reaches for a pie in the air and scarfs it down, uncaring of the sticky fingers covered in sweet apple filling and flaky, crumbling bits of crust.

It tastes like home.

It doesn't taste like Uncles house, or blood, or school hallways or alleys or scraps.

He sobs miserably, wanting to hide. He isn't crying over apple pie, he isn't! From his memories, he definitely shouldn't be crying over this much- it didn't even hurt enough to cry!

Thunder crackles outside the castle. Cale remains hunched over a new slice of apple pie, curling into himself in a very not-Cale like manner.

Another crack of lightning outside.

Eruhaben steps in front of Cale. He brushes Choi Han, frozen in his shock, away from the scene. Raon brings more apple pie out, even as he sees that Cale isn't so much eating the pie as he is holding it.

"Human, I will- I will destroy the world! You can't go into a coma again, I will- I will," Raon's voice cracks. Choi Han gathers himself. He looks at Cale, before calmly standing next to Raon and touching his paw in the air. "Human..."

"Cale," Eruhaben speaks calmly. "Look at me."

Cake shakes his head, fingers trembling. Something's wrong with him, inside of him, and the panic gets to his chest as he starts to take quicker breaths. Cale looks through his memories to fix himself but they blur in a cacophony of sounds and words and frames.

"Cale Henituse, you need to relax. Everything is okay. No one is taking anything from you. Calm down."

They weren't inspirational and comforting words. No, the words could even be considered a little cold, for an adult speaking to what appears to be a 7 year old. But it was necessary for Cale, who was 10 and not 7, and Kim Rok Soo, who was orphaned at a young age and abused and abandoned, and a little boy who went through both child and teenage years without anyone he could call family.

Cale opens his eyes. Were they closed? Eruhaben is in front of him.

Calm down.

Why did Lee Soo Hyuk come to mind when he heard that? A distant, dusty memory falls through his mind, so he picks it up and watches it. The Record plays out.

Something happened like this, once.

It was the only time he came close to crying in front of the Team Leader. Lee Soo Hyuk brought him out of it. The Record, though the reason why he almost cried was somehow forgotten(lost?), always played when he needed to put himself together in a moment of weakness.

Even now. When he is 10 years old in a 7 year olds body. The voice brings back the feeling of calm.

His memories settle.

Right. This is more like him. More like himself.

His face levels out into something neutral.

It feels like an older version of himself, somewhere between 38 and 20, is stroking the top of his head. Cale wonders if hallucinations are part of the curse.

"Good job." Lee Soo Hyuk in the Record and Eruhaben's words overlap for a moment but Cale ignores it.

It takes mental strength to stand straight again, but he manages it with a stiff expression. His hands are a mess, a gross mix of blood and the smushed flesh of what used to be a perfect apple pie.

He's never been more ashamed and embarrassed in his life. Old memories come to mind, reminding him that he's done worse, but the 10 year old in a 7 year olds body feels mortified. If he'd done this in front of his uncle...

"I'm sorry." Cale apologizes. It comes out of his mouth naturally. He has a lot that he could be apologizing for. The floor, which surely has blood and messy apple pie on it now. The pie, which is as ruined as his shirt. The weird hyperventilating thing he did. He recalls his memories. Maybe it wasn't what Lee Soo Hyuk called it, a 'panic attack,' but something different, more sinister.

He convinces himself that it is.

Red flag number 6 it is.

"Cale, you have nothing to be sorry for." Eruhaben states clearly. Cale looks him in the eyes. Strangely, he feels compelled to believe the Ancient Dragon.

.... Red Flag number 7?

Cale backs away on instinct.

Eruhaben sighs.

"Unlucky bas... hah." Standing up from where he had apparently gotten on his knees, Eruhaben waves his hand. The gross feeling on Cale's hands disappears effortlessly, and the stain on his shirt vanishes too. "It'll still be better to wash your hands, at least. Though that doesn't mean you're dirty... it means you were attacked by apple pie." Eruhaben tells him seriously. He lowers himself to his height and makes eye contact. "So it's best to wash it off, just in case some of it is still on you. It could... attack again."

The other people in the room, notably missing Bud and the mage Glenn now, stare at Eruhaben. He pointedly ignores their gazes.

Cale nods.

Eruhaben covers his rising smile.

"Off you go now," he lowers the hand, looking serious again. Struggling, he continues,"... Be careful." Like sending off a soldier, he stands up and looks away from Cale.

Choi Han covers his own face and fights to not laugh.

Somehow, despite the fact that Cale technically has all of his memories, the explanation works for him. He goes into the bathroom, escorted by Ron, who helps wash his hands at the sink. Ron also has him change his clothes, despite their clean appearance.

Ron assures him that it's due to the risk of another apple attack. It could be stuck to the clothes as well. Cale frowns. Ron smiles at the pouting 7 year old.

The 10 year old starts changing his clothes obediently.

Cale's muscles ache and burn. Even his bones hurt.

His head is in so much pain, especially when he focuses, but he draws in his willpower to think very hard about the reason why he might be in this condition.

Cale winces as the needle in his brain digs in deep and drags itself over his frontal lobe, and he visibly shudders, trying not to grimace.

10 year olds are supposed to be bigger than 7 year olds, is the conclusion he comes to.

...

Cale gets chill on the back of his neck.

Surely he isn't going to grow... right? No, no way. If he is, surely he shouldn't be in pain, right? He became 7 years old in a flash and it didn't hurt, so why now?

The pain alleviates for a second. In feels like whatever is causing the pain is given a revelation.

In his undergarments, Cale is enveloped in a white light.

This is...

Definitely red flag number 8.

Definitely, he thinks, suddenly 12 years old in a 12 year olds body. The needle painfully digging into his brain burns and yet feels cold at the same time. It spreads like an infection, and he immediately covers his right eye as it becomes numb with a sharp, icy sensation. Strangely, his hand warms up.

Ron, who innocently retrieved a garment from the crown prince Alberu's younger days, drops it. The assassins hands, which never tremble, shake more than they would if Cale had been an adult. Seeing a newly 12 Cale bleeding from his eye...

Blood seeps through the gap between Cale's hand and his face, which is now suddenly 12 years old.

Cale-- Ron realizes as he calls, as calmly as he can, for the ancient dragon and rushes in a not-so-calm manner to the young masters side-- has yet to realize that his eye is gushing blood. The 12 year old looks at Ron, confused.

Ron's expression is stiff.

"Ron?" Cale asks.

Eruhaben enters the room alongside Raon and Choi Han, but Ron focuses on relaxing his expression, and carefully holding Cale's hand to his eye, keeping it there so he doesn't remove it.

"Young Master... Do you remember the song, Dark Night Moon Light?"

Cale frowns. His head hurts.

"No." He says honestly. Why is everyone in here all of a sudden? Cale was barely dressed in some now too-small shorts. It's cold, he thinks through the pain.

"Then I will remind you, Young Master. It's a children's song that parents or butlers like me sing at a child's bedside. The child will close their eyes and listen to the song. Would you allow this butler to sing it to you?"

All of a sudden?

Cale feels uncomfortable, but his head hurts so much that he can't think about it a lot, so he closes his eyes.

Ron sings, in his calm and low voice, a common children's melody. He himself had once sung it for Beacrox, a long time ago.

It's supposed to help children who find themselves terrified of the dark. As far as Ron knows, Cale was never been so afraid of the dark to have this song sung to him... but, he understands with a bitter heart, even if he had been scared, the song would've been sung by his mother. Not his father, who was too sucked in by his grief after her passing.

He realizes that Cale, being 12 now, must no longer have the memories of his mother singing to him.

Eruhaben has Ron carefully remove Cale's hand, which had been pooling blood inside, spilling onto the floor.

Branded under his eye, looking like a burn in the soft and thin skin, is a number.

'12'

Eruhaben waves away the blood.

"Young Master, open your eyes now. The song is over." Ron doesn't react to the number, and when Cale opens his eyes, hides his relief that his eye is not damaged. Just bleeding. "Do you know how old you are now?" Though, Ron had a strong suspicion that they already knew.

"... 12, I think."

"Cale, you've been fighting off the curse, haven't you?" Eruhaben asks. It feels angry. Cale shrinks in on himself.

"It's fine, isn't it? It's better if I'm older."

He won't cry anymore. He can bathe again, since he can now handle the phantom sensations of blood and scars and dirt. He won't ignorantly use his ancient powers. Off the top of his head, there are more reasons that he should be older than there are reasons to go back to being young.

He is a better slacker when he isn't being whiny and childish.

"... Cale-nim." Choi Han groans.

"You knew that you were fighting off the curse, right?" Eruhaben asks again, but it's calculating.

"... Yes," but how could he not? He could always feel when he grew older, smarter. Not to mention the cracking like pain of his skull being hammered in, worse and worse as he ages. Even now, he can only tell the honest and not altered truth, simply because he is in too much pain.

Choi Han wants to ask. 'Is it because you don't trust us?'

But he holds his tongue.

Eruhaben sighs. He nods at Ron.

"Get dressed." Eruhaben rubs the top of Cales red hair, leaving him frazzled, before leaving the room. Choi Han clutches his sword and restrains his rampant emotions.

"You aren't in trouble human! The great and mighty Raon will help you become a child again!" Raon flies around Cale. Ron, observing Choi Han and Raon, leaves to rob the crown prince of more clothes.

Sigh. Cale shivers.

His head hurts.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

I'm slowly making my way through a new project- editing the entirety of the album PUNCH by Autoheart to the Life Series.

I was originally planning to post all of the edits in order of the songs on the album, but I instead made the Lent one first and am too excited to keep it in my drafts any longer while I work on the first four songs of the album (especially since we're coming up on finals seasons and the amount of time I'll have to work on these is gonna plummet so fast). So instead, I'll be posting them as I make them and make a masterpost of them all in order at the end.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this! I'm really proud of it and a lot of work went into it.

[vuelode-irbis]

Day 28 - Favourite

And that's a wrap! This is a redraw of a photo I really like of my favourite wildcat.

[ID: digital painting of a cheetah sitting on top of a small hill with golden and yellow short-grasses, she's bowing her head down to smell a tall, white flower. The background is a blue sky that darkens with the height, and a big, pinkish cloud that frames the cheetah. End ID]

Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and specially to @mammoth-clangen for creating the prompt list I followed this month, it was very fun! Also for resharing my entries :D

I want to add I based this cheetah's markings off of Kike's! A female cheetah of whom I read a little on Big Cat Diary: Cheetahs, she appears on the cover of the book and was very loved by the authors

I couldn't for the life of mine find the original source of the reference image, I'm very sorry because the only photos I found with reverse search were reposts, my deepest apologies to the original photographer, here's the link to the pin I had saved.

[youreyeson1y]

honestly, i can't believe i get to call you mine

or, bang chan in a private but not so secret relationship with you !

part 3

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taglist: @starlostastronaut, @oc3anfloor

[klanced]

this is why i never read voltron fanfic 💀

[b4kuch1n]

glorioso from last years twitterin

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 789: Inheriting wishes

Pag 1

3: Yes, I got it! The last one!!

4: Bon apet...

5: What, Kabu, are you eating trash now?

Guaa- the worst person saw me!!

Th- that's not it, this it- uhm....

Pag 2

1: Have mine

3: Nom nom nom, so good!

You worked a lot for the sprint

Good job following on this climbing while resting and resupplying

5: Imaizumi-san is treating a kouhai kindly!!

Hotshot is rewardina kohai!?

I....

Ho....

What is it, I feel a weird atmosphere

Pag 3

1: I received my orders from Onoda-san!!

2: Climb and pull the team

3: Climbing at a fixed pace as much as possible, while watching the condition of tiredness of everyone's pace, synchronizing our breaths

Pag 4

1: It's the least damaging way to climb!!

The pack is coming!

It's Sohoku!

Pag 5

2: Danchiku... this is a good pace

He's good at watching everyone and matching his performance to them

3: You really are his polar opposite

Ah, person who gave me food

4: Rokudai, watch closely

Ye-yessir, teh!!

5: What Danchiku is doing now is the correct way to “pull”

Yessir, teh

You also

6: got your orders, didn't you?

Pag 6

1: From Onoda!!

2: Mountain King and Manami are overtaking the other climbers who had come out!!

Are they going to the lead like that!?

They-

Pag 7

2: What, how, they're so fast....!!

3: Amazing!

So fast!

They're running at an incomprehensible speed

This is a race between the Inter High's

Pag 8

1: two times finalists!?

2: Sakamichi-kun!!

Manami-kun!!

Pag 9

1: It's true, Mountain King and Manami are racing

Yeah, they're fighting seriously

For this year's mountain prize....

2: You seem to be in good condition!!

Yeah!! Manami-kun!!

3: the first day's mountain is gonna be the most amazing!!

4: There's a lot of people in the audience too

Yeah

A huge crowd, the summer air, and the blue sky

Pag 10

1: I wonder if Toudou-san and Makishima-san also felt the wind like this, on Hakone's mountain two years ago!!

2: The sky is blue!!

There's a lot of people in the audience too!!

4: I'm having so much fun chasing after it it feels like I'm in a daze

Pag 11

1: Even though my body is tired and my muscles are exhausted, it feels like my heart is saying “let's go until our limit” and pushing my blood!!

5: Yeah!!

I think Makishima-san and Toudou-san definitely felt like this!!

Pag 12

1: Shooo

Just get ahead of him by a few millimeters

My heart is pounding

Jinpachi!!

Maki-chan!!

2: About the race between them that day, I heard other people saying:

3: “It was fierce”

“It was a race of their souls”

“I saw a battle of the limits of climbers”

Pag 13

1: But looking at their backs, it looked fun

3: Back then we could only imagine it

4: But now, like this

Running against you, who shares the same feeling

Pag 14

1: It's like we can “experience”it!!

3: Yeah!!

Pag 15

2: I didn't think the mountain on the first day was so freeing, that it would make my heart feel so clear

3: It's strange

4: The thing I longed for from the bottom of my heart... my strong wish....

5: even if I couldn't fulfill it at the time

Pag 16

1: it still came true in another form!!

Pag 17

1: You're right!!

Pag 18

1: Mountain King and Manami accelerated again!!

4: The orders!!

Pag 19

1: It's time, go

Switch with Danchiku

2: Pull the team, Rokudai!!

Yessir, teh!!

I received them from

2: Back-gate slope-senpai....

Pag 20

1: My “orders”!!

2: Rokudai-kun

Yessir, teh

3: Please pull the team on the mountain while switching with Danchiku-kun

Yessir, teh!!

4: My first orders.....!!

I'l ldo it with all my strength

Actually

5: I wanted to say “please climb the mountain together with me”

8: Huh!? Together!? The mountain!?

9: When I was in first year, I didn't see the race between Makishima-san and Toudou-san

10: …. so

Onoda....!!

For Rokudai-kun

Pag 21

1: I wanted him to see the race between me and Manami-kun as a first year climber

2: Onoda-kun

3: But it'a not as easy as taking him along to race together

4: If I don't refine my thoughts I'll never catch up with Manami-kun as he is now!!

6: That's why I have another order for you, Rokudai-kun

Another one...!!

7: Look up at the mountain

Send your heart out to the road before you

Pag 22

1: Imagine it with everything you have!! Our

2: our fight to our limits!!

Their fight!!

Pag 23

3: Back-gate slope-senpai!!

Then... on your first year... or your second year- when you'll have a rival....

4: A ri-rival!? Me!?

5: Hakogaku caught up!!

Pag 24

4: Remember about today, please

5: Ah... the guy who came on Minegayama with Manami-san...

Is this guy really the manager....!?

[psychotic-nonsense]

< || >

"Eddie...?"

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

"The hell does that mean-" Steve doesn't get to finish. His body reacts on its own again, wanting to surge and face the evil head on. All it does is strain everything in him again, makes him hiss in pain and struggle to remain upright.

The hand that he didn't even realize left returns, and the other holds a wet cloth. It dabs at his forehead, lukewarm and comforting. Everything is as cold as the Upside Down, these days.

"Not important. It really is best that you stay in place." That tone is monotone again, the brief moment of clarity gone. It's back, the... thing using Eddie's voice, his body, his face like an amateur puppeteer. How brutally ironic. "You must heal."

Steve, ever stubborn, bats the hand above him away. It's just a limp wave in his state, but the thing backs off. The hand behind him remains though, surrendering to help Steve find his way up. It's tough, considering how swollen one hand feels and the lingering phantom pains that Steve's body endured but Eddie's did not, but Steve gets himself into a sitting position.

"'Not important,' my ass." Probably not the best threat when Steve hacks up a lung immediately after. The thing doesn't respond, and when Steve faces it again, it's face is painfully blank. Wide, yellow glowing eyes stare at him, a bare hint of white at its center, so utterly familiar yet simultaneously foreign.

"If you're not Eddie, then what are you?" Steve spits, full of emotion compared to the husk beside him. He brings his left hand up to his chest, rubbing softly along the wrist with his other and wincing at the feeling.

The thing takes in a breath, eyes flitting off to the side briefly before returning. Still with that infuriating lack of emotion. "You are not in a good state to have this conversation."

It reaches for Steve's hands with the rag, and he pulls them out of reach. Too quickly, as well, his jaw instinctively clenching with the motion, resulting in an even more embarrassing groan of pain. "You don't know that," Steve forces out.

"I do."

"How so?"

"You are injured, weak. And this is a complicated matter."

"You just don't want to tell me."

"Because it will be too hard for you to hear."

Damn, it's got him there. As much as Steve wants to know, he's not sure he could bear the answer. Everything rubs so raw, everything having happened in such quick succession to him, and he feels like a live wire.

It reaches for his hands again, now frozen on his lap. Steve doesn't fight it, lets it carefully take his hands in its own. "Rest, let yourself calm." The thing says. "Then I will tell you."

Steve, begrudgingly, welcomes the still damp rag it wraps around his swollen hand. Doesn't do more than flinch when it's warm hands begin carefully massaging his through the cloth, thumbs circling around the wrist in a barely there pressure Steve feels in pulsing waves.

He takes the time to study the thing beside him. Human, definitely, an exact replica of Eddie at its core. Same clothes, same hair, all the same from the last time Steve saw Eddie alive. Except this thing glows like a faint light bulb, the light seeming to come from its entire being rather than one place. Steve already knows it's eyes, wide and unfeeling, pure gold but for a pale shape at the center.

Then there's the scars. When Steve last saw Eddie's body, there was a huge gash along it's left cheek, deep and bloody. Now the mark remains, but it glows the same damn bright gold as everything else. No blood, no tears, and this thing seems to have no problem talking with it. He wonders what that means for the wounds that took Eddie.

A slightly stronger pressure is applied to his wrists, and Steve groans again. The hands stop, let him breathe through the pain. Sprained, at best, and the doctors lingering around Hawkins have more to deal with than one possibly broken bone.

They've been sitting in silence for who knows how long now, the rag in their shared hands already cooling. The massage and quiet have done their job for Steve's brain, allowing him to come down from the panic. He's still pretty raw, but he no longer feels so in danger.

"Can I ask you something else then?" he asks carefully, voice raspy and soft.

The thing doesn't respond right away, and doesn't look up when it answers. "Yes."

"Where'd you get hot water from?"

It almost seems to relax at the question, as if it was expecting a different one. It still hasn't moved, still cradling Steve's hand. "Your bags had water and matches. This place had pots, and we are in the woods."

Fair enough, Steve supposes. "Why bother? Water is water."

"It is cold, and you are weak. We assumed the heat would help."

There it goes with the 'we' thing. It referred to itself that way earlier too. But Steve knows he should be wary with what he asks, so he ignores it for now, in place of something far more important.

"Is Robin okay?" His voice cracks a little there. Neither of them talk much louder than a whisper, but Steve still glances over at his best friend. She remains asleep, unmoving in every place but the one that matters.

"You both have similar injuries. You have woken, so she will too. She will be okay."

Steve sighs, put more at ease by that than he thought he'd be. Yet the response only creates more questions. He gently pulls his hand away, turning back to face the thing beside him. It does the same. Confusion to blankness.

"How'd you find us?" Steve asks slowly.

It blinks in response, pausing. "I found you in the Other woods." It says 'other' like it's a title. "I don't know what happened to you."

"Why did you bring us here?"

"It was empty. Close to the Gates."

Steve's coming up on the point of no return. He can feel it. He doesn't ask the more obvious, important question, but he can't stop himself from toeing that invisible line. "Why take us in at all?"

The thing finally shows its first sign of emotion in a while, eyebrows furrowing just slightly. Guilty again. "This is your home. You weren't safe there."

They stare at each other for a while after that. Steve holds back every impossible question he has. It watches him, face falling just a tiny bit more, waiting for him to break.

Steve cracks. His voice shakes, fighting to keep himself in control. To stay calm enough so he can finally get answers. "You apologized for bringing us... here earlier. How did you even know about that- about any of this? The boathouse, the medical supplies, how to start a fire. What-" He stops himself before he goes too far.

Its eyes search his expression, flitting between the injuries across his face. Still just the barest hint of guilt in the slight furrow of his eyebrows. Eyes still wide and inhuman. "I was told."

Steve doesn't ask, 'By who?' Doesn't let it come out in the desperate wail it wants to. Because he already knows. So he gives that plea to another question, puts as much emotion into the pathetic whisper that slips past his injured jaw.

And he breaks. "What are you?"

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 19)

“What the hell is this about a kid!” V burst into N's apartment without any warning the next day, as they were discussing how to handle heading to the party. Among other things.

Tera almost immediately began to wail at the sudden noise, making the irate disassembler shut up and stiffen like she'd been slapped with a board.

“Shhh! It's okay Tera.” Uzi immediately went to work in calming the pillbaby down since she had been in her arms (ya know, attached) V looked starstruck, and N glared at her for a moment before sighing.

“Yes V, I adopted a baby.” N clarified, coming up to stand by Uzi and look down at his daughter, making sure she calmed down.

Tera slowly calmed down, Uzi rocking her gently until the wail calmed down into sniffles, N finished it off with a boop to the visor which made her last sniffle turn into a light laugh.

“When?! Why wasn't I the first to know!” V whisper-screamed at the both of the, eyes darting between Uzi and N and both pairs of claws pointing at the ceiling.

“It kinda happened too fast? And uh, we kinda wanted to keep it to ourselves for awhile…? N replied, closing the gap between him and V nervously.

“We?” She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow at them.

“I'm listed as a caretaker. Why do you think I'm even here?” Uzi asked sarcastically, lifting Tera up to show off the short cable attached to her side.

“There's a psychopath out there, Uzi could go feral at any moment. And you decide to bring a baby into this!” She seethed, her tail sticking straight up like a flagpole, looking almost like she was pleading.

“It-it wasn't like we weren't thinking about that V. But Tera needed me-us!” He explained, gesturing back to both Tera and Uzi, who looked a little insulted at V's words. But kept her mouth shut.

“Needed? That kid would literally be safer buried under snow then with any of us. If you've forgotten, Doll wants all of us dead.”

“Yeah I know! And maybe she would be safer with someone who wasn't involved, but there was no guarantee that anyone else could take care of her!” Both N and V's voices were steadily rising again, and if Tera's face was anything to go by, she wasn't liking it.

“Enough!” Uzi's voice cracked above both of them, N immediately fell silent and looked back at her face all sorts of apologetic, surprisingly V did the same, although crossing her arms and looking petty as she did.

“You two can argue all you want about it. But not here, and not in front of Tera, Got it?”

“Sorry Zi…” Came from N as he rubbed the back of his head.

“When did you get so motherly?” Came from V as she pointed at the purple drone with a single claw pointing out at her.

“Bite me V. I'm serious.”

V made a noise of indignation, but seemed to concede. Side eyeing N but falling quiet for a moment.

“Did you want to see her V? I know you didn't come here just to chew us out.” Uzi asked after a moment, although rather awkwardly, she still wasn't sure how to “be nicer” very well, but she was trying.

V looked surprised for a moment, her claws even turning back into normal hands for a moment so she could rub them together.

“I could totally come here just to chew you two out!” She recovered, trying to snarl back, but it was rather unsuccessful in trying to look intimidating without her claws.

Uzi lifted a brow, and through grumbles V approached her, and Uzi unplugged Tera from herself before gently placing the little droneling in her arms.

“Uh… hi?” It was clear V didn't know how to interact with children, much less a baby, as she wasn't exactly holding her right, nor did she sound all that confident.

Tera looked back at her curiously, eyes drifting from her visor to her face and to her tail twitching behind her. She almost looked as if she was suspicious of her.

“That's V, Tera, she's uh… kinda your aunt.” N came up behind V, hovering over both women (because he's so damn tall) and speaking gently. V shot him a glare that said “I'm her what?”. But he just smiled and flicked his eyes back to Tera.

Tera spent another moment focusing on V's features before she smiled at her, rolling into her chest to hug her.

Uzi and N both watched as V locked up.

“What is happening…?” She asked slowly, looking taken aback.

“Awww V, she likes you!” N exclaimed, intertwining his own fingers together as he “awwwed”

V looked suddenly a little fearful of the baby now tucked in her arms, and glanced at both N, who was smiling so wide it almost look like it hurt. And then to Uzi, who was so so smug.

“Wipe that stupid grin off you face.” She growled at her, but if anything Uzi's grin just got wider.

“Didn't think I'd ever see you hold a baby V, it suits you.” Uzi teased, being unable to stop herself from antagonizing her, even if was just a little bit.

“Oh shut up.”

A muffled noise came from the pillbaby buried in her jacket, and all three of them looked down curiously, only for Tera to roll out screaming happily:

“Vee!”

“She's starting to learn names really quickly.” N pointed out, looking proud.

V however looked like someone had stabbed her in the chest, a warped smile on her face and a golden blush sneaking up on her visor, eyelights hollow as she stared down at the droneling.

“You can say she's cute V.” Uzi laughed, seeing the was V's hold on Tera got much better after the baby said her name.

“I-I Uh-No! She's not!”

“Vee!” Tera said again, rolling around in said drones arms violently, and then giggling like crazy.

“Here!” She thrust Tera into N's arms before distancing herself quickly, facing away from both of them.

“I uh, have more important things to do!” V almost shouted as she quickly exited the apartment without so much as a goodbye. And Uzi couldn't help but laugh at the display.

And she thought she didn't want to be seen being soft.

“Well… that went…okay?” N spoke up after a minute of silence, a lopsided smile on his face as he touched his face, either out of amusement or relief he wasn't sure.

“As well as it could've.” Uzi shrugged before holding the front of her visor, the pressure in her head had grown over the last several days, with all the craziness going on, it was starting to get to her.

“Hey, try not to sweat it too much. It's why were going to this party right? De-stress?”

“Maybe it isn't a good idea? I m-mean V is kinda right for once. I'm not exactly-”

Before she could finish, N placed a hand over hers and squeezed gently, shutting her up immediately.

“It'll be fine. And even if it isn't, I'll be there yeah?” She blushed, looking away from him for a moment before returning with her own gentle squeeze, looking him in the eyes and smiling.

He found himself smiling back before the flutter of nerves in his core got the better of him and he removed it, looking away even though his tail was wagging rapidly.

She had to feel the same way right? The hug and now…this? This wasn't something that was normal for her. Wanting to be close, meeting his physical affection with her own.

The only real way to be sure was to tell her.

“En?”

Tera’s voice brought him out of his thoughts again, for once resting in his arms without rolling around, he smiled down at her, nuzzling her chassis and making her squeal in delight.

“Easy Jellybean.” He hummed, and Uzi laughed at the nickname, looking at him inquisitively.

“Jellybean?”

“Yeah! She's cute and sweet and bean shaped!

She rolled her eyes but laughed just the same, coming up to his side to gaze down at Tera as well, as she smiled back up at them, seemingly content.

Next ->

[ecoustsaintmein]

ghosts (part iii of v)

part i here

part ii here

part iv here

part v here

pairing: paddy x eoin; rating: M. slow burn.

this was the first time they'd had this conversation as eric and killian. but it was as if they'd had this conversation, many years ago, many times before.

(or, paddy mayne and eoin mcgonigal, reincarnated as eric love from 'starred up' and killian from 'angel'. they meet again, during the heights of the pandemic -- but they don't remember - until much, much, much later).

--

it's saturday morning and already eric could hear bhangra tunes bangin' from some flat across from the opposite block (though he could never really tell which one), waking up the entire compound. killian used to say that he quite enjoys it, even if he understands not a word. but killian is a morning person and annoyingly so, one who finds anything and everything fascinating.

eric once even found him humming to the music, mumbling punjabi lyrics that don't make sense, while watering his plants. head swinging to the beats.

mrs sinha, who lives in the flat between eric and killian's, doesn't approve of the loud music, and complains this as much whenever they bump into her.

today killian's at mrs sinha's flat, teaching her daughter how to play the guitar. they aren't allowed to visit other people's houses yet, but killian's been perching outside mrs sinha's door, in the corridor with khushi, strumming on their guitars. they're technically in the open air, as the corridor ledge stretches into an open space, anyway.

this has been going on for the past four weeks. eric thinks that khushi, who's only thirteen, may have been making moony eyes at killian, so eric tells him straight. killian's laughed then, at eric's wee scowl. he told eric he has it on good authority that khushi's got a crush on her schoolmate, another girl, and wants to impress her by showing off what skills she's learnt during lockdown.

'don't tell me you're jealous of a thirteen year old kid?' killian's asked, not unkindly. eric's cheeks turned hot. he shrugged and waved it off. 'just lookin' out for ya, ain't i?'

had it been some random geezer who'd asked him that, eric would have slashed him there and then.

but this was killian. one of the good things he's got in this world, apart from subodh, though he knows that subodh's only there because he's allocated to eric's case instead of really wanting to spend time with him.

eric's been questioning killian's existence, and his own, though. lately with all the unwanted visions that have infiltrated his head, he doesn't know who he is, or whose memories they belong to. he knows that he's there, but it's not him -- and killian's there too, but it's not killian. it's those men whose names were on that bloody notebook.

is this the universe's way of telling him that killian's only there because they used to be friends, in one of their past lives?

is destiny folding itself again and again, so that even if eric were to run away, killian would still be there regardless?

he's kissed killian, in a moment of inebriation, despite not having consumed even one drop of alcohol. he's drunk on killian and paddy and eoin. killian's kissed him back, thought it was as if his body was taken over by eoin and eric's body was taken over by paddy's and they no longer know who they were, their conscience intermingling and constantly alternating between the then and the now.

he's run away, then, with the foreign taste of killian's lips on his tongue but also thinking, it's familiar to him. it's killian but it's also eoin, who still tastes the same as before. the paddy in his head wanted him to turn back but the eric in him dragged his body kicking and screaming back to his flat, one foot after the other and slammed the door shut.

--

'oh, to run away, eh, eoin? how grand a life it would be, to be a coward. to love life that much.'

--

killian's texted, 'we need to talk,' and eric's replied, 'yeh'.

but eric's never been really that good at talking anyway.

--

while killian teaches khushi the chords for 'ain't no sunshine', mrs sinha is making roti and chicken korma as payment for killian's services. eric could already smell the spices emanating from mrs sinha's kitchen, hear the sounds of oil hissing and pots clanging in between killian's gentle strums. his voice carries the melody of bill withers' song, but retaining his usual speaking accent. he could hear killian repeating, 'i know, i know, i know, i know,' again and again, several times, but with his distinctive irishness, the 'o' in 'know' somehow fuller than the way bill withers had intended it to be sung.

on his phone, eric types into google search:

'paddy mayne'

'eoin mcgonigal'

and shudders when he sees the black-and-white photos, digitized. sucks in a deep breath when he reads about paddy, and about eoin, and the lives they led, the things they did.

how they died.

eric throws his phone to the ground.

he lies on the floor, curled up in a ball, shaking.

this is how killian finds him, fifteen minutes later. with a plastic bag filled with chicken korma and palak paneer in one hand, his guitar in the other.

he dumps the all the stuff on the floor. cradles eric's head in his lap. smooths his brow. holds his limp, sweaty hand and doesn't let go.

'everything will be ok,' he tells eric.

eric believes him.

--

what do you do, when you have one foot in the present but the other stuck in the past? what do you do when you have to straddle both worlds, when your memories are imbued with the ghosts of men who used to be you but you can never live up to their achievements, in their very short lives?

--

later, eric says, i have another eight years to live.

killian says, i died eight years ago.

that wasn't you, eric retorts. that was him. eoin.

yeh, killian says. so you won't die in eight years' time. because that was paddy. that wasn't you either.

he is picking at his korma, now, stabbing the chunk of chicken meat with a torn piece of roti. from this angle, killian looks nothing like eoin, with his wild curly hair let free instead of being side-parted and combed back and flattened with brylcreem.

eric's finger itch to reach out to touch him, still.

instead, it was killian who reaches out and wipes a bit of spinach from the corner of eric's mouth, with his thumb. 'you've got something, here,' he starts to say, but pauses when eric leans into the touch, head jerking, like a rusty automaton.

killian pulls away, but eric reaches up, then, and holds his hand there.

'we shouldn't do this if you don't want to,' killian whispers. afraid. he's meaning eric, not paddy. because paddy wants. but he's not sure if the eric within him has the capacity to consent to this.

'i do,' eric-paddy says, with conviction. 'do you?'

'who am i talking to right now?' killian asks.

eric doesn't know the answer to this question, and it scares him. is he eric love, or paddy mayne, or user @/blair_e? why did he choose the name blair as his handle? in his head it had been because of george orwell, whose real name is eric blair, and orwell's works had always resonated with him.

but maybe there's a more sinister reason for that. an unconscious desire that blooms and resurfaces when he found cu chulainn on that site. when he met killian for the first time, on the wards, many moons ago.

'robert blair mayne', eric mutters under his breath. eoin's eyes narrow into slits, hands falling away. a flash of recognition in his now pained gaze, mingled with uncertainty. 'what?' he asks.

'that's his full name. paddy's name.'

eoin sighs. 'i should know that. in fact, it's coming back to me now.'

'what is?'

'you. me. us.'

silence falls between them. a beat, then:

'i shouldn't have let you come with me,' eric says, meaning -- paddy shouldn't have let eoin come to kabrit with him, shouldn't have let him join the sas.

'but i wanted to. i've always wanted to,' killian replies, defiant.

eric doesn't miss how killian replies in the first person, just like he just did. 'who am i talking to right now?' eric asks, instead. 'is it killian, or is it eoin?'

killian hangs his head low, the balls of his hands pressing deep into his eyes. despairing.

'i still feel the sensation of falling, falling, falling,' killian says. 'the parachute - it opened, but it might as well haven't bothered. the wind carried me away. sand in my eyes. hissing noise in my ears. and all i could think of, were the faces of my brother, my parents, the house i grew up in, how nice it would be to go back to ireland, live a life without war. and then i thought of you. i thought of you, and then there was the bang, and then the hurt, and then nothing.'

eric huffs. slides down from his chair, kneels at killian's feet, as if asking him to absolve his sins. he holds killian's hands again, gripping them so hard that his nails are digging in deep into killian's pale flesh, but killian doesn't pull away. he grips just as hard. shifts their angles so that their fingers interlink.

'i'm sorry,' eric says.

'i could hear you calling my name,' killian says. 'i could hear you searching for me, but i couldn't respond. and then you went away, far away from the deserts. but i know you carried me with you, until the very end, for better or worse.'

'i think of you, too,' eric replies, earnest. 'every day. every year, on your birthday. i offer libations at the altar that was your memory, even if my own memories were no longer as good as what it used to be,' eric concurs. 'i think of you even in my last moments. and then there's the bang, and the hurt, and then nothing.'

for nearly fifty years their souls lay undisturbed, before paddy and eoin were borne again. souls replenished in vessels anew.

dormant, until now.

--

this time, it's killian who leans down, and kisses him.

this time, eric doesn't run.

'paddy,' killian says, between kisses, devouring him whole.

'eoin,' eric responds hungrily.

--

'we'll sleep here, tonight, i think.'

--

'we need to talk,' killian once said, and eric's said, 'yeh'.

but when it comes to words that matter, eric swallows all of them up again. even when they're begging to be released from the tip of his tongue.

--

eric and killian know that paddy and eoin have never done anything beyond stealing kisses in the night. they never have time or the space. if they get caught, it will be more the reason for ghq to shut down the sas, den of sinners and iniquity and irreverence. they know that paddy and eoin never talk, neither. the way that eric and killian never talk.

what eric does say, is this: 'i'm not a poofter.'

they're lying on eric's unmade bed. his head is on killian's chest, killian's fingers playing with his hair, grown longer than he's remembered since he got out of prison. nails grazing his scalp just ever-so-gently.

killian jerks his head back, then looks down at eric with a wry smile. 'is this you saying that the reason why you kissed me last night, and why i kissed you today, was because of them?'

eric huffs, then, and rolls to his side to hide his face in killian's armpit. they're still fully clothed, but eric likes the sensation when he nuzzles his nose against the fabric of killian's t-shirt, smelling of laundry and a hint of sweat and the fancy bergamot cologne that he always wears. killian rests his hand against eric's neck, holding it still, almost in a gentle chokehold. his thumb against eric's fluttering pulse point. if killian presses harder against eric's trachea, he could have easily constricted eric's breathing, but eric lets himself be placed under killian's mercy.

'we can't let their ghosts haunt us, kill. just because they're a bunch of repressed gits doesn't give them the authority to take over our lives, yeah?' eric reasons. he presses his suit with such conviction, because he wants to tell himself that this is also the reason why he's obsessed with killian, with cu chulainn. that it's not because of his own choosing, but because the ghost of paddy mayne, the fucking war hero who hides behind poetry and violence can't get his act together and fuck eoin raw when they were alive.

he doesn't even know if this mortal coil of his is being controlled by eric love, or paddy mayne. why he lets himself being coddled by killian, and why killian's letting him do this. the real eric love would rather be dead than being caught canoodling in some irish waif's arms.

then he thinks of neville and ashley in their prison cell like this and his back straightens. jumps off the bed and looks at killian with so much hatred and disgust. the words 'i know what you are' is on his tongue. he wants to be cruel and unkind. he wants to tell killian 'you've always been a poofter, even before paddy and eoin invaded our heads.' he wants to ruin that wide, easy smile of killian's with his fists. he wants to lick the blood off killian's face and kiss the bruises and the welts from where he's hurt him.

'you need to get out, kill. before i do something awful,' he exhales, instead. arms stiff, stubborn by his sides.

the bedsheets rustle. killian stands up, taller than him, looking down at eric with pity. as if he knows what eric's thinking. 'i'll leave, but not until i've said what i needed to say.'

eric nods, couldn't quite meeting his eyes.

'do you remember that lady who gave me that notebook?' he asks, gentle and non-judgmental.

'yeah.'

'her name's eve. eoin's never met her, but paddy has. i don't know much about her, but i think she's trying to tell us something.'

'fuckin' ell,' eric groans. 'can't she just talk normal like other people?'

killian purses his lips, considering. 'aye, but we're not exactly normal, are we?'

eric grunts, agreeing in reluctance. he wishes killian would just hurry up and get to the point, because the longer he stands there the stronger the urge for paddy to come out again, the stronger the urge for paddy to wrestle him onto the bed and do unimaginable things that eric's only fantasised doing to cu chulainn, and never killian.

boundaries, oliver once said. fucking boundaries.

'my point is, she probably wants us to figure it out ourselves. because paddy and eoin, they never got the chance to. not in the time that they had. even if they'd lived -- it's not something they could openly talk about,' killian says. eyes shining bright, hands windmilling, stray curls bouncing off his forehead as he speaks. eric knows that this is killian, and not eoin who's talking. eric could tell the difference. 'not in the army. not in ireland. not in those years,' killian adds, voice falling to a hoarse whisper.

it's not as if eric could talk about it, now, either, but he digresses.

'why do you think that this time it would be different?' eric asks, pitch rising, like a whiny dog.

'because we're not them,' killian says curtly, fire in his eyes. 'i'm not eoin as much as you're not paddy. you're right, we shouldn't be constrained by their memories. we should be free to choose what we want to do in our own lives. who to be. who to love,' he continues, and then, softly, -- 'i want you to be free,' killian says.

'are you?' eric asks. 'free?'

'i wish i could be,' killian replies.

and just like that, he leaves.

--

like a bigot, eric continues to watch killian's cu chulainn videos. pulls on his dick and takes pleasure when cu chulainn takes off his clothes and the lingerie he wears underneath. eric thinks he could come again and again, just by watching cu chulainn's fingers, his thumb pressing at the head of his delicious, red, uncut cock. the camera zooms in on the string of precome, and eric mouth waters. he wishes he could taste it.

the birthmark on cu chulainn's right hand. the thumb that only this morning, has wiped the corner of his mouth. eric wishes he's had the guts to catch it with his teeth. give it a good suck. the way he wants to suck cu chulainn's beautiful cock and has him come all over eric's face.

--

one of the viewers has asked in the chat: what would you like for christmas?

eric thinks, there's a new, uncharacteristic heaviness in killian's voice when he replies, 'a dog.' even when he tries to sound chipper. 'a puppy would be nice,' he says, but i don't mind an old dog either. 'one of those ones from battersea. i don't have a pet now, but i've always had a fondness for strays.'

--

an interlude:

'i wouldn't mind dying for you, y'know?' paddy says quietly, the night before the jump. unsure. he doesn't even realize that he's said it until the words stumble out of his mouth.

eoin raises his head, the frantic scribbling of his final letter suddenly stops. he studies paddy intently, as if he's staring at the enemy lines, warily watching. head tilting. 'what would your mam say if she finds out you died saving someone like me?' he asks.

paddy shifts slightly in his cot, glaring daggers at eoin. 'don't say that. don't ever say anything like that, because i'm like you too.'

eoin returns paddy's sharp gaze with his own, and for the first time paddy thinks that his eyes look -- sad, for the lack of a better word. 'paddy, if we survive this -- if we survive all of this, i don't even know what kind of world we'll wake up in tomorrow.'

'tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,' paddy begins. 'creeps in this petty pace from day to day--'

'--to the last syllable of recorded time,' eoin continues for him. 'and all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death.'

this whole conversation is a mistake, because paddy thinks he’s spent enough time with this man to know eoin, but clearly he doesn’t. paddy nods, not knowing what to expect, but when it all boils down to it, he thinks he’s probably been prepared for this his entire life. eoin stands up from his cot, takes the extra step closer towards him.

his lips are dry, but soft against paddy's.

he cups paddy's grizzled face in his hands, gentle, as if he’s scared that paddy will break. paddy widens his legs so that eoin could kneel between them. it’s dark, and the next tent is only yards away.

there is the sound of their clothes rustling against each other, but if he could keep his voice down, no one will know.

no one should know, or both of them will hang.

paddy swipes his tongue against eoin's bottom lip, causing him to moan, teeth clacking against each other. paddy lifts one hand up to rest at eoin's nape, feeling the sharp, short hairs there against the pads of his fingers, deepening the kiss. he tastes like smoke and ash and cheap coffee, paddy thinks, before eoin bites at his bottom lip, causing paddy to yelp.

'what--,' paddy breaks the kiss and licks at the split lip, tasting blood.

'you’re not supposed to kiss me back,' eoin says, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. there is a flash of panic in his eyes. 'you— you’re supposed to push me away,' he continues, nostrils flaring.

paddy only replies by pulling eoin into his lap again, for another searing kiss that knocks the breath out of him, earning a desperate groan from eoin. i will never push you away, paddy wants to say, but he decides to let his actions declare how he feels instead.

between their bodies, eoin's hand reaches for paddy's dungarees, tugging at it to unbuckle his belt. paddy breaks the kiss for a split second to help eoin, hands frantically moving to get this over and done with as quickly as possible – not out of disgust, but out of fear should anyone find them like this. there is no good way of explaining the situation if they get caught.

he helps to undo eoin’s dungarees too, bringing both their cocks together in his large, calloused palm. paddy's intention is to jack them off together dry, but eoin has other ideas – as if he really wants to show paddy who he really is. he brings his head down to paddy's crotch and takes him into his mouth, tongue swirling around the head as his right hand begins to pump paddy from the base of his cock.

'fuck—,' paddy squirms, but eoin lets go of his cock and slams a hand over paddy's mouth, effectively shutting him up. 'do you want to get caught?' eoin whispers hoarsely. paddy shakes his head, eyes wide as paddy merely blinks at him, and resigns his fate as he shoves his cock into eoin’s warm, wet, inviting mouth.

paddy's not had time to jack himself off in ages – and he certainly never had anyone suck him before, so he almost lets out a whine when he realizes that eoin is way too good at this, as if eoin's done this before, with other men – and he thinks, how could i have not known? and, i wish we had more time. and, i wish we'd done this sooner.

paddy's hips stutter as eoin begins to slide his head back and forth, letting his cock out of his mouth for a few seconds to be replaced by eoin's right hand as he lathers his attention and sucks on the underside of paddy's balls, too. paddy wants to scream – but eoin's left hand continues to clamp down on paddy's mouth, muffling his groans. paddy doesn’t know what to do with his free hands, so he ends up grabbing aimlessly at eoin's head, eoin's curls, eoin shirt, eoin's everything for purchase-- as his hips continue to thrust into eoin's mouth, out of its own accord.

he has never fucked a girl, let alone a man’s mouth – and he could feel hot tears forming at the corner of his eyes, as he opens his eyes and watches as eoin hums around his cock, his tongue like silk against his skin. paddy watches, mesmerized by the trickle of eoin's saliva mixed with paddy's come as he lets go of paddy's cock, only to tongue the slit languidly, lifting his gaze into paddy's eyes as eoin swallows him whole, again.

paddy couldn’t breathe – his lungs are on fire, eoin’s warm hand against his mouth and nearly covering his nose. his vision goes blurry with tears and desire and pleasure, and he might have made a sound because eoin has stopped sucking him, only to reach up to kiss him again. paddy tastes himself – and saliva and come and eoin, before moaning into the younger man’s mouth, rutting desperately against eoin's cock. finally, finally – eoin manoeuvres paddy's hand and wraps it around their cocks, before paddy finally relents, muscles clenching, thinking he could see stars.

eoin comes not long after, paddy helping him to his release, as he nuzzles his head against paddy's damp neck. they’ve made such a mess with their dungarees and shirt and the tent smells of sex and sweat – and in the distance, paddy could hear footsteps approaching. eoin and paddy tidy up as much as they could, and paddy lets out a heavy sigh when he realizes that the footsteps are moving away from them. even then, he couldn’t help but agonize that the others might have heard them. he’s painfully aware that there is probably eoin's handprint across his face where he’s had his hand clamped over his mouth too tightly, the unfamiliar, unpleasant feeling of shame pooling deep within his stomach.

'did you regret it?' eoin asks, as if he could read paddy's mind. he doesn’t seem as fazed as paddy. strangely cheerful, almost.

'fuck you,' paddy says – but he’s not angry at eoin. maybe he’d felt angry at how long they've waited to do this, but mostly he’s angry at his own stupidity. he would never be angry at eoin. and then, against his better judgment, he laughs.

eoin laughs, too, before he falls silent. 'don’t make promises you can’t keep,' eoin says, stern, his inflection hiding a deeper, darker meaning. paddy blinks at him before eoin shakes his head and grumbles something that paddy can’t quite catch, reaching out for paddy’s hand and tentatively linking their fingers together.

when eoin is sure that paddy is alright, he leans forward and brushes a finger over paddy's cheekbone – clearing a fleck of sand, perhaps, before rewarding him with a soft smile. 'i’m going to catch some kip, now,' he says. 'wake me up at zero-three-hundred,' he tells paddy, as he rests his head on paddy's outstretched legs, and closes his eyes.

--

this memory is new to him, but killian knows what happens next.

--

he still wakes up, sometimes, thinking that it was his own neck that had snapped, when eoin landed on those dunes.

he still wakes up crying, suffocated by the wind and the sands and the loneliness, until someone (reg?) finds him and buries him, and paddy holding his hand in the rain.

he wakes up, at zero-three-hundred, to find a text pinging on his phone, from an unknown number:

'hi killian, it's matt here, from horsham. sorry for the sudden msg. jess passed me ur number.'

the second text bubble goes like this: 'just wanted to say hi, check in. it's been a while. can we meet up?'

'matt. xx'

--

tbc

part iv here

[castielsprostate]

genuinely though if they continue venom without tom hardy, or without eddie brock, i will blow myself up and not in a good way

[cattewife]

wisteria tour

h/ualian modern au snzfic, INTERLUDE (/part 4)

fandom: m/xtx t/gcf rating: M word count: ~2000 contains: possibly-unreasonable levels of pda allergic!h/ua c/heng & fet!x/ie l/ian semi-public sneezing one (1) in-text illustration on ao3 The perils of good landscaping when you have allergies befall H/ua C/heng, much to his dismay and X/ie L/ian's delight.

>> read it here on ao3! <<

see posts for: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

[fideidefenswhore]

'Thus he ended his speech, and he doesn't say That he had wronged or spoken ill of the king, But he prayed that God long keep the king In life, in happiness, [in honour], and in contentment. And when, to the people in attendance, he said, With a steadfast countenance, "Pray for me," With a firm heart he presented his head To the sharp blade that carried it off in one blow. [And not fearing the great cruelty Of the sharp blade [...] Each one seeing that people bore great grief from it] The [three] who had to die afterwards Said nothing, as if they intentionally Had entrusted Rochford Alone to speak for their conscience [...] [The Queen] was still so curious [...] Therefore, they tell her that her brother had shown The greatest strength of any man ever seen [...] The story of the death of Anne Boleyn : a poem by Lancelot de Carle, JoAnn DellaNeva (Translator, Editor, Writer of added commentary)

"'I will,' he said in a good lawyerly fashion, 'not in this point arouse any suspicion which might prejudice the king's issue.' Unwilling to drop his line of questioning, Hales next claimed that George had spread malicious reports which called into question the paternity of Anne's child, Elizabeth. George did not dignify this with an answer. He knew his own sister." Hunting the Falcon, John Guy & Julia Fox

"But George refused to answer the question with the required yes or no, not wishing, he said, “to engender or create suspicion in a matter likely to prejudice the issue the King might have from another marriage.” Nor would he respond to any suggestion that he had spread a rumour that Elizabeth was not Henry’s. The idea that he believed Elizabeth was not the king’s child and that he had repeated such an untruth was, to George, so contemptible that he would not even dignify it with a reply." The Infamous Lady Rochford, Julia Fox

"George Boleyn's real 'crime' was to be Anne Boleyn's brother and Princess Elizabeth's uncle. He was intelligent and spirited enough to mount a powerful defence of his sister. He was powerful enough to provide the focus for Boleyn followers and, especially, those who would assert Elizabeth's rights as heir to the crown." Anne Boleyn, Josephine Wilkinson

[piratefishmama]

what is there left of Nest if you dont mind me asking? it looks finished

Okay so imma give you a hint.

i've been colour coding the updates by how SFW they are

Blue is for totally SFW

Orange is for lil bit spicy.

this one. This final one's Red.