#HE'S GOT RESTLESS BONES OKAY!! I JUST KNOW IT!!!!

[go6jo]

(one can only truly feel with their eyes closed) s.gojo

it’s three in the morning and satoru is standing outside your bedroom door, pinching his bottom lip in between his fingers while anxiously awaiting your arrival. you should’ve been back before midnight and there is something unfamiliar stirring inside him, something that is rendering him restless. there is a heavy lump on his throat that is making it hard to swallow and he can feel himself starting to feel sick.

satoru was born bearing the curse of atlas, the world weighing a little too heavy on his shoulders ever since he was little. the body of a child is a frail one and satoru had been too scrawny at the time, bones too fragile to handle all of that weight by himself. he’d fallen on his knees one too many times and had struggled to stand up on his own until he had grown to become something akin to a god, one who barely even knew fear. 

satoru reaches for the phone in the pocket of his sweatpants, waiting for something, a call, a text even - anything to let him know that you’re okay.

however, his head is quick to turn at the sound of heavy footsteps echoing throughout the entire floor when he catches sight of your silhouette emerging from the shadows on the other end of the poorly lit hall. he feels his heart cave in on his chest for you, eyes softening and full of compassion when he notices the sole of your feet dragging laboriously against the floor, weary and sore after being away for so long and having just traveled all the way back here, back to him. 

ten days to be precise. that's how long you’ve been gone. and when you manage to make your way along the seemingly endless corridor, so very tired from your lengthy mission overseas, satoru can visibly see your body cease its fight against gravity as you let yourself collapse into him. he is so quick to guide your arms that had fallen limp by your sides to wrap themselves around him, pulling you closer, craving the proximity after having longed for your touch every day for the past week and a half. he follows it by looping his stronger ones around you, offering you the stability you need, holding you and welcoming you back with a quiet good girl whispered to the crown of your head. 

in the quietude of the moment, while trying to recover from the fretful state he had induced himself into, satoru realizes now that fear has become a constant in his life.

“you’re late” he threads his fingers through your hair, soothing away your fatigue though he thinks he might have just lulled you to sleep because you’re standing so still, breathing so softly. at your lack of response, his hand cups the back of your head tilting it upwards and your lips begin to part, ready to protest but it’s only then, when you meet his gaze, that you become aware of the distress graven on his handsome features, brows furrowed and bottom lip swollen with the indents of his remaining anxiety, teeth merciless as they tried to chew away the nerves in his system.

satoru is always so good at hiding his feelings. he might’ve been terrified out of his mind, but hardly anything gives it away. his voice never wavers when he speaks and his hands have such a steady grip on you that his inner turmoil would’ve almost gone undetected. almost. because concern is so easily discernible in his eyes - his eyes are so honest, as honest as satoru gets. they have always let on more than his words — they’re his biggest strength and yet his biggest weakness, his blindfold keeping any vulnerability from seeping through.

“i know but i'm here” you close your eyes when his thumb rubs the spot between your eyebrows “my flight got delayed and i didn’t wanna wake you up with a phone call”

“i wasn’t sleeping” not until i know you’re safe.

“i’m alright, satoru. im here” you two speak in whispers like two kids sharing a secret, your voice barely audible as you lean your cheek against his chest, a hand rubbing circles over his heart.

a placid wave of silence envelops the two of you in its calm embrace as you take your time to touch, to grab and to squeeze — to let your hands get acquainted with each other’s skin again — you swear you feel him shiver against you, when you caress the skin behind his ear, where you know it’s sensitive.

“let’s get inside, baby.”

you nod against his chest and squeeze him in your arms one last time before you pull away to unlock your bedroom door. you lace your fingers together with his and pull him along, dropping your luggage somewhere in a corner and not even bothering to turn on the lights instead guiding him towards the bed that you’ve shared during so many other nights before — so eager to be cradled in his arms, to drift off in the warmth of his presence. but when satoru drops his head to your shoulder from behind, you halt all movements, stopping in your tracks.

he doesn’t say a word, just moves the palm of his hand gingerly up the skin of your exposed arm, only stopping where the strap of your dress sits on your body, gripping the fabric in his fist, begging to see you, whole. to make sure there is not some invisible force holding you together and that you won't fall apart under his fingers. he still touches you so carefully as if you will.

for a long time now, satoru has worried that the eyes he has relied on throughout his entire life might fail him sooner rather than later. reality can be deceiving and he has grown to harbor a certain skepticism towards it. after all, his best friend had met his demise at his own two hands, had taken his last breath in his arms, however, that unfaithful day in shibuya there he stood, intact - alive. satoru is now imbedded with a constant feeling of uncertainty, doubting what otherwise he would’ve believed to be the undeniable truth.

you lift your hand to rest over his, loosening the grip he has on the fabric of your garment before you slide both straps off your shoulders, letting your dress fall to the ground and revealing your partially nude body to satoru’s prying gaze. he closes his eyes with a sigh that makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise in anticipation. he brushes a few strands away before he presses a kiss to the mound of your neck where your spine protrudes your flesh, where your skin is most tender and delicate, feeling the subtle bumps of your skin against his lips — the way your body reacts to him proof that you’re not just some hallucination. that you’re here. that you’re alive and well. 

he figures he is so much more in tune with his surroundings whenever he’s not looking. his eyes are closed shut yet the way you shudder under him when he runs the tip of his finger up the curve of your spine, the little sounds you make, the gasp that unintentionally escapes your lips when he lays the most gentle of kisses on the shell of your ear — he’d know you anywhere, even with his eyes closed. he knows the way you feel, the way you sound, the way you smell. even blind, his other four senses would still lead him to you.

he touches you until your skin starts feeling feverish under his fingers, wishes you’d just melt into him and would fill in every crevice in his body until he’s so completely covered in you he can barely breathe. and when he needs more, he carries you to bed in his arms then lies you down in the white linen sheets. he reaches for the back of his shirt and tugs it off before taking the spot next to you, yearning for the feeling of his skin against yours.

he kisses your collarbone, left then right, worshiping you whole, paying equal attention to every part of your body, then dips lower to kiss over your sternum. he loves on the freshly inflicted wounds on your skin then proceeds to run his tongue over the newly healed scar that runs diagonally on the flesh of your stomach — your taste, that, too, he has memorized by heart.

“i always come back looking worse than when i left” and it's supposed to be a lighthearted joke because you're smiling and your tone is somewhat playful but it makes satoru wonder if you think he loves you any less because of it.

sometimes it’s hard baring yourself to satoru like this, he knows it. your scar ridden body a striking contrast to his almost pristine, untouched one. however, it’s on nights like this one where you feel closest to him, laying bare your insecurities to him and, in return, he entrusts you with his — more often than not as he impulsively lets them escape his lips in the form of strangled moans against the sweaty skin of your neck, telling you he loves you. don’t ever leave. i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you, too.

“you returned, baby. that’s all that matters.” he utters against your belly then comes to rest on your chest, ear pressed atop your heart.

satoru has grown fond of the sound of your pulse lulling him to sleep, slow and steady. he unwraps his arms from around you, moving his hands up your sides until they settle around your ribs, feeling the way your lungs fill up with air, his head moving up and down, in sync with your heaving chest. he smiles fondly to himself, every heartbeat, every breath you take a reminder of the life flowing inside you.

he looks up, eyes searching for your face after a few minutes have gone by since you stopped playing with his hair. he had wanted to protest but then he takes in the image of you, mouth slightly agape, a subtle frown on your face — an angel lying under him. so fragile, so innocent.

you're sound asleep and satoru is overcome with the intensity of the sheer adoration he feels towards you when he comes to the realization that you had felt so at peace in his arms it had only taken you a couple minutes to doze off. it is as if your body reacts to his presence on its own, telling you that it's okay to let your guard down, that it’s safe around him. to him, there is no bigger privilege than to know his touch brings you such tranquility — that he’s your safe haven.

upon further inspection, however, as his eyes linger on you for a little longer, there’s a cold shiver that makes its way up satoru’s spine when he notices how still you are, barely even moving. apart from the subtle rise and fall of your chest, you’re so inert, so lethargic. so lifeless.

and suddenly it is as if there is not enough oxygen in the room as he finds himself gasping for air, lungs growing heavier by the minute as he starts to drown in mirages of your inanimate body in his arms, hands clammy and fingers digging into the flesh of your ribs instinctively, out of desperation, as if he’s trying to stay afloat.

he calls out your name once, and he would’ve felt bad for waking you up but, right now, he can’t even seem to think straight. he could be so selfish at times still you never resented him for it. so he calls for you again.

you don’t answer at first, his voice too weak to even pull you out of sleep. satoru hoists himself up on the bed, lying sideways next to you, his body looming over yours as he brushes the strands of hair that are sticking to your forehead away from your face — your complexion looks so much paler under the moonlight.

“baby.” he calls in between heavy breaths, eyes frantic searching for something. anything. this time you stir in your sleep, turning around and nuzzling into the crook of his neck as if seeking for the heat of his body on instinct alone. he sighs releasing some of the tension inside him “baby.” though there is still a hint of urgency in his voice.

“im sleepy, satoru” he can barely hear you as you bury yourself deeper into his neck.

“i know, baby. i know” he tries to soothe you, cradling your head closer to him but pulling you away from him just as quick, grabbing your cheeks in between the palms of his hands and gently holding your head up to take a look at you instead. your eyes remain closed, still so heavy with sleep.

“just need you to say my name.” it sounds like a desperate plea.

“satoru.” you barely even manage to mumble as you lean deeper into his touch, lips brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of his hand. moving only on instinct still, too drowsy to even make sense of what is happening, to notice his agony.

“that’s it.” he pecks you on the lips “again.” he is trailing kisses across your cheeks, his breath heavy on your skin when he begs you in a quivering voice “please."

the feeling of his hands shivering against you it’s what gradually rouses you, opening your eyes only to be met with his wide-eyed gaze, pupils fully blown out in the dark, alert with fear.

you know how he gets, it isn’t the first time this happens yet it never fails to alarm you. you’d seen it in his eyes many times before and you’d seen it again earlier tonight, when you arrived, tenuous yet just waiting for the smallest trigger to so easily turn into something out of control.

it's as if he's suddenly put in a trance and nobody can pull him out of it. his hands start wandering everywhere and in a rather frenetic way, feeling around your skin as if he has gone blind. hands fumbling to hold whatever is within their reach, clenching whatever it is you're wearing in his fists, searching for something that you can’t quite understand.

you never know what to say, you can only hold him in hopes it will pass. you hold him and coddle him, whisper words of reassurance in his ear in hopes that you can be as much of a source of comfort to him as he is to you.

he apologizes afterwards, he always does. apologizes for needing you so much that sometimes it drives him close to insanity. then he always whispers a thank you from under his breath, thank you for letting me rely on you, but he barely ever does, only when he so desperately needs it — when it’s him lending others his strength, being relied on, who says thank you to him.

you sit up in bed, extending your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it. you pick him up when he does and you let a hand wrap around the back of his head, guiding him to rest on your shoulder.

“satoru, satoru, satoru.” you whisper against the shell of his ear while stroking his hair. he thinks he could fall sleep right here, like this.

please, lean on me, too.

i got you, you don’t have to be strong all the time.

 if you let me, i can be strong for the both of us. satoru thinks he knows what you’re trying to tell him.

“i’ll say it as many times as you need.”

once again, he is so overwhelmed by his profound infatuation that it is as if his love has grown a will of its own, as if it has grown fangs when his teeth sink, unwarranted, into the skin of your shoulder, love wishing to seep itself deep into your bloodstream. “want you whole.”

“so greedy.” you wince quietly, nonchalantly against his snowy hair and he runs the tip of his nose up the side of your neck.

he keeps on nibbling on the tender skin of your jaw, as if he’s hungry and trying to prove a point. that if he so wished to, if he was greedy enough, vile enough, he’d devour you full.

“i'm the greediest, baby” for what is love if not greed. is it not wanting to consume the other person and let yourself be consumed in return? for his entire life, satoru has known nothing but an insatiable hunger. always wanting more, always needing more. gluttonous for more, more, more. in the end, he always managed to get what he wants and he doesn’t hold back, you never asked him to either.

he knows he owns you wholly, that you placed your soul, mind and body fully on the palm of his hand and he doesn’t think he could ever settle for less. doesn’t think his hunger would ever be satiated with less than a handful of you.

he places a trail of kisses that goes down to your shoulder again and he pulls away from your skin with one last kiss to the spot where he left a mark. a mark that is so unlike any other in your body. one that comes from love.

“i'm sorry that i need you so much” he envelops you in the tightest of embraces, touching his heart with yours.

he wishes you understand that he’s apologizing for so many other things, too. he’s sorry that he can’t give himself to you the same way you’ve given yourself to him. you’ve always kept your heart so willingly open to him yet it seems that he only ever allows you a glimpse into the heart inside his chest on nights like this, when fear holds him in it’s strong, relentless grip or when he’s falling apart at the feeling of being inside in you, body panting above yours, too lost in his own pleasure. only then does he allow himself to be vulnerable with you, spilling all of his heart's content into your distracted ears — when he thinks you’re far too gone to listen, to truly acknowledge his feelings — but you treasure every single moment of fragility of his, for they are so scarce, listening attentively even when he thinks you don’t.

“say my name one last time” he breathes against your ear.

here, in these sheets, satoru pretends to forget his name and the burden that inescapably comes with it. he forgets the world needs him and lets himself need you instead, just this once. — just this once, he’ll pretend to be the weak one, the one who needs saving and finds a shelter in your arms.

“satoru…” your words are spoken barely above a whisper, like they’re meant just for him.

“again” he connects his lips with yours and holds the back of your neck with one hand, the other resting on your lower back for support as he dips both of you down onto the mattress.

and you say it. again. and then again. not because he asks you to but because satoru knows how to get what he wants. he pries his name out of your lips as he trails open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts, forces it out of you in the form a laughter as he nibbles on the inside of your thighs, tickling you with his breath and ultimately earns it in moan that you cry as a prayer when he sinks down on the mattress and makes a home in between your legs — until you're chanting his name over and over again, sobbing that you love him, you love him, you love him.

he smiles to himself, does it half smugly, half earnestly. satoru is now twenty eight and his shoulders a little lighter, the world fitting all too perfectly in this queen sized bed.

[facioleeknow]

Glamping with a twist•Lee Know

Tw: suggestive, swearing

Going glamping with Minho wasn’t something unusual for you; you two had been friends for years and it was your favorite activity, something you cherished that allowed you to spend time alone and unwind. It was also something you partially dreaded because of your big fat crush on your best friend. Sleeping in the same tent as him, even in separate beds made you extremely restless and fidgety. He made you feel like a teenager with a first crush, like a complete idiot and you hated it so by the morning you were always grumpy and looked at him like you wanted the man to combust on the spot. Minho never missed your grumpiness and usually made a snarky comment about waking up on the wrong side of the bed and pinched your cheek, which made you feel all types of things and, most importantly, made you forget about your sour mood.

This time around, though, something was different, and it wasn’t the fact that it was Minho’s birthday. The birthday boy forgot to phone the camping site to see if they had double tents.

“I have a bad feeling about this Minho,” you mumbled as you pulled into the parking lot.

“You always have a bad feeling, darling.”

You felt your face tingle at the nickname, but knew better than to read something into it. Minho called all of his friends darling.

“Was I ever wrong?” you quipped back. Minho just rolled his eyes at you and made his way to the little hut at the beginning of the site.

So damn sassy, you thought as you started to unload your bags from the car.

When Minho made his way back to the car, his expression was weird.

“What?” you asked mindlessly scrolling on instagram.

“They only have tents with a double bed, no separate beds.”

It took you a second to register what he said. Heat spreaded throughout your body at the thought of sharing a bed with Minho.

“What did I fucking tell?!?” you screamed. People turned around to look at you, you didn’t care, you were right.

“Yah, no need to yell, it’s not a big deal, we can share, we’re adults,” he seemed unimpressed and you were about to explode.

“Say it,” you yelled again as Minho grabbed his stuff and started to walk to the tent, “Lee Minho say it, say that I was right!”

After a long back and forth between you and Minho about being right and being wrong, the birthday boy dragged you to fish with him and thought it would be funny to throw you in the little lake with the fishes. The supersonic scream you let out when the freezing water came in contact with you made Minho cry out of laughter so you did the only thing that was right, you dragged him in with you.

By the time night rolled around you were both out of breath and drenched to the bone for having played in the water for so long. As you walked to your tent reality started downing on you. You. Minho. One bed, were your only thoughts.

MInho didn’t even look in the direction of the shower, he took his bag and started walking out of the tent.

“Where are you going?” you asked, puzzled.

“Communal showers, you shower here, there are weird guys there, I don’t want you to go,” he replied nonchalantly as if he wasn’t making your heart at an inhuman speed.

“Okay.”

The time in the shower gave you time to calm down, you refused to fantasize about sleeping in the same bed with Minho. It would be weird and creepy and you were a decent person, right?

When you got out Minho wasn’t back yet, so you got into bed and made yourself comfortable. Soon the tiredness from the day caught up to you and the warmth of the blankets made it impossible for you to stay awake.

A gentle tug on the blanket, woke you up brutally.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Minho whispered, his hand came in contact with your cheek, his fingertips gentle on your warm skin.

“It’s okay,” you choked out. What was he doing? This was completely out of character for him. His hand dipped lower, his fingers traced your neck then your clavicles, your arm and stopped at your hip which he gripped and squeezed strongly.

“Minho, what are you doing?”

“I’m touching you, you can stop me if you want,” his eyes were completely focused on your lips.

“Friends don’t touch each other like this,” you whispered with a shaky voice.

“Friends also don’t dream about ripping each other’s clothes off, and I know you’ve done it and I’ve definitely done it.”

Minho’s lips came in contact with your neck, his touch like a feather, it made your skin hot and tingly. You wanted more.

“Minho, please,” you whined.

“Be a good girl and I’ll give you everything you want, okay darling?”

“Yes, sir.”

[luvrodite]

second star (988)

part of the dad!jason au. reader is referred to as 'mommy', female child original character, child illness, angst, allusions to canon relationships, bruce + dick make an appearance, happy ending.

your daughter falls ill when she's about four years old. it's the kind of sickness that leaves her bed-ridden for a while, her little coughs echoing down the hall while you make her soup with a tight heart. jason fares worse, tension lining his brow and you can see the shards of his broken heart glimmering in his eyes every time she cries.

he reads to her a lot, his drowsy, tired girl curled up in his arms while he turns the pages of her favourite book. the edges of the paper are softened from the years, the scrawl of her name on the front page wobbly and overlapping the title. most times, she falls asleep before he can finish the first chapter, but it's fitful, full of shallow breaths and restless murmuring. he doesn't leave her bedside, and in the end, neither do you, taking up residence in the armchair beside her bed while her father – too big for the princess bed her beloved uncle had bought her last year – hangs his legs off the bed frame.

she cries when you hold her as jason changes her bedding, her muscles aching in time with your heart. her curls are damp with sweat, her face with tears. you murmur promises to her, kissing her salt-tracked face, i know, baby, i know. it'll be quick, i promise. daddy just has to put new covers on.

sickness is no stranger to jason's family, who've had their fair share of broken bones and other wounds. still, they come by and you watch them try their best to hide their worry. dick, kneeling by his best girl's bed and softly tucking a curl behind her ear. hi, sweetheart, he murmurs sweetly, doing okay? 'course you are, brave girl. he presses brand new stuffed toy into her arms, tucking the giraffe under the covers.

he leaves her with a hug, and you watch jason follow him out of the room, unwilling to let his older brother go just yet. the front door remains shut, and you know that they've gravitated to the kitchen, low voices muffled through the walls. you turn to your girl, her tired eyes fixed on the orange splotches, mouth open as she touches its ears. mama, look. like on tv, she says tiredly, and you grin.

when you get better, we can write dickie a card to say thank you, huh?

one by one, the rest of the family come to visit their girl. and jason says very little, face stiffer and more solemn than he ought to be at his twenty nine years old, but you know him. he's glad they're here. devastated about why. terrified as to what might come.

he'd cried the night she was born, more than once. the first time he'd seen her, tiny, wrinkled thing that she was. the first time he'd held her – his whole world, right in the palm of his hands, he'd told you later that night in a whisper, watercolour eyes tearful and not for the first time that night. didn't ever think i would get here. thought maybe i got lucky with you, he had confessed. my luck can't be so bad if i've got her, too.

you knew he was remembering those words, remembering the ones he'd told you he loved you for the first time. i'm a cursed man, sweetheart. you'd be better off with someone else. and yet...and yet i'm too selfish not to tell you i want you. i love you.

it seems especially cruel a joke of fate to allow him this chance at happiness, and threaten it so quickly.

the doctor comes and goes. bruce pays for it before the man has left the room, and you think your husband might come to physical blows with his father, in the living room, when he finds out. he doesn't. 's not for me, he tells you later, when your baby girl has fallen asleep, his face pressed into your neck. he loves her, too.

and you can't deny it, the way your father-in-law dotes on her. the grumpy old man is wrapped around her littlest finger, as charmed as you've ever seen him when your firefly seeks him out at family gatherings. she spends most of dinner by his side, insistent on sitting next to papa, much to your chagrin and reminder of her manners. it's fine, he assures you quietly. she's much better behaved than any of my children.

you know that it simultaneously warms and embitters your husband, to watch him be so good with your daughter.

she gets better slowly.

the worst of it passes in the slowest night of your life, spent wetting rags and coaxing her to take the medicine she'd been prescribed, feeding bites of food to her while holding back your own fearful tears. jason takes over when she starts to throw a tantrum, only to run out of steam and cry quietly. you have to leave the room for a moment, struggling to catch your breath.

hey, he murmurs, from the next room. you think you can take a bite for me? i know, angel, but you gotta eat something. tell you what, i'll help you finish this, and when you're better, you, me and mommy are gonna go on a trip. anywhere you want.

beach? you hear her feeble voice suggest and he hums.

yeah. you wanna go swimming?

uh-huh.

the bowl is empty by the time you return, and you don't know if it's hope that colours your vision and puts rose in the apples of her cheeks. but jason seems to see it too, and you see grief and relief in his eyes when he catches your gaze. you stand by the bed, and his fingers find yours. in her pyjamas, your girl points to the book on her bedside table.

she stays awake to see the end of the book.

i don't know what spurred this on but i wanted to rip my heart out a little. unnamed todd baby you are the light of my life. i kept thinking about that poem about the father who got his sick daughter plums and just about in general how fathers love. it makes me so ill especially thinking about my own but i wanted to put jason in that situation and do it while trying to stay true to canon (somewhat). anyway. hope u liked this. it's unedited and hastily written but i hope it makes you feel something.

[isa-ghost]

ok

*insert coin*

Can I ask for q!Phil hcs BUT when he's fully un Bird mode :D

Jokes on you that's easy, those are just more plain qPhil hcs for me >:D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Sometimes if he's in a fight that he's not taking seriously he'll put some goofy ass music on in his headphones. Some favorites include the Mario invincibility star theme, Waltz of the Meatball Man, and the kind of bubbly anime ending music that plays over an emotionally devastating scene

After way too much stress, once he gets Chayanne & Lullah to bed and is on his own he'll go somewhere and just. Scream. For as long as it takes. And then he chugs tea or noodle broth to prevent his throat from dying on him.

Sleep schedules his beloathed <- wants to spend more time with a bunch of islanders he doesn't get to see often

Out of the 3 polycule members, Fit is best at cheering him up. He knows Phil best and the extent to which he lacks a filter sometimes is too powerful for Phil not to at least smile at

His wheeze laugh is the best thing ever to the the kids. If the two of them can make him wheeze, they know they've done their job right.

As soon as he knows something is safe (the maze, an event site like the code builds, that new mountain at old Spawn, etc) he's the first one to start exploring. He's been that way as long as he can remember ;)

*Slaps top of his head* This old man can fit so much survivor's guilt in him

He's only old in age and wisdom, if you try to imply he's geriatric he will get SO out of pocket about the things he's done with Fit & Etoiles and you will regret it

Okay so I've talked about how his worst fear is not having control, especially of himself. And I've talked about other fears of his, but I don't think I've mentioned his fear of loss yet. He tries to pretend he isn't, he'll insist he isn't, and to some degree he isn't Entirely wrong, but he is afraid. Being as old as he is means you get a bit desensitized to loss because it's natural when the things and people around you don't live for as long as you do. The part of it Phil fears, or maybe hates is a better word, is all the emotional turmoil after. That bone-deep ache of grief, the heaviness that refuses to leave his chest, how easy it is to emotionally compromise him, the hollowness that consumes him. The way he can't think or sleep properly, how his motivation is completely wiped out, how embarrassing it feels to not be at 100% in front of people. He HATES the aftermath of it all.

Excursions, Shuniji, and ofc Weirdest Year by C418 are Phil grief songs, in this essay I will

The Federation has learned that if they want Phil to attend an event he isn't particularly interested in, all they have to do is have really good food there, especially Latino food

He does legitimately gag a little when he kills a mob and flies or maggots come out of it. That's not just drama, he fr is like 🤢. It reminds him of the first time he saw Ender King's corpse

A fraction of the reason why he has people he trusts very deeply, like Fit, whitelisted on his security stuff is bc he knows if he ever got too depressed (like when the kids were missing), he'd never leave the house and just bum around feeling awful despite being restless. Having them whitelisted means they can get in and force him to get some air and stop festering in his emotions.

See I could get into a whole analysis abt this but like. So many of my angst hcs for him are abt how he's kinda shit at taking care of himself, esp when the people he cares for the most are removed from the equation. But it's not that he's incapable of it, he's not a baby or something like that. It's another part of how he's so locked into being the caretaker, the protector, the Strong One, the wise one, etc etc etc that he Hates being in the reversed role. He's gone so long without it that now it's foreign and unpleasant to him. He feels weak & like a burden. But at the same time, going so long without being in the reversed role is unhealthy and he NEEDS to be the one taken care of or protected sometimes. Everyone does. It's a double-edged sword: be the caretaker, shoulder everything & suffer OR be the one taken care of, feel awful about it for one reason or another. He can't win. He hates the latter but he needs it occasionally just like anyone else. He prefers the former, but the toll it takes over time is extensive.

It's why he'll do little things in an attempt to remedy it. To avoid being full-on taken care of for once while also not Only doing the reverse. Watching the sunset with the kids, adventuring in new and exciting places, sparring with friends, etc. His escape is making vivid fond memories to look back on and smile about, even if they don't always fix his emotional state. At least he isn't fully neglecting himself.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Jack Kelly x Reader where the reader has a nightmare and Jack comforts her? I love your writing by the way!

Thank you and I love this request idea!!

“Close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: reader has a nightmare and jack wakes her up from it, comforting her until she can fall back asleep

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 677

Warnings: fluff! Nightmare/scary dreams. Probably typos :,)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jack stirred from his own restless sleep as a soft, uneven whimper reached his ears, prompting him to open his eyes and focus on your tossing figure beside him.

You squirmed around, struggling against the confines of the bedsheets, your body was producing far more heat than necessary.

Jack gently shook your shoulder, calling your name in a hushed tone.

“Y/N, wake up. You're havin' a nightmare.”

It took a few tries for him to wake you up, but when he did, your eyes snapped open, wide with panic, so much so that you even managed to startle him a bit. The room's shadows danced on your face, making it clear that the dream had been far from pleasant.

“Are you okay?” Jack's voice was soft, concern etched across his features. “You sounded like you were crying for help.”

You took a moment to catch your breath, and to orient yourself, your head spinning as your eyes adjusted to the low light.

The details of the nightmare slowly faded as you situated yourself back into reality. “I can't even really remember it, I just felt like I was gonna die.”

Jack shifted closer, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back. “You're safe, Y/N. Just take a deep breath, yeah? Tell me if you can.”

You complied, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, allowing the rhythmic motion of Jack's hand on your back to guide your breathing. The cold sweat that covered your skin had your shirt clinging to your body, and your body began to tremble as it dealt with a sudden change in temperature.

“I was trapped, and everything was closing in on me, I don’t know, it’s stupid,” you finally managed to articulate, the unease lingering in your voice.

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting an understanding that transcended words. “It’s not stupid. That feeling would’ve scared me too, but I’m here and I’ve got you.”

As he spoke, Jack reached for a nearby glass of water on his nightstand and handed it to you.

"Thank you," You took a sip, allowing the silence to linger for a moment.

"Need anything else?" Jack asked, his voice a steady anchor in the quiet room.

You took a long, quiet inhale, your tummy churning, unable to shake that funny feeling.

“You alright?” He asked, after getting no response to his original question.

“I feel sick.”

Understanding flickered in Jack's eyes. “Alright, sweetheart. Let's get you up.”

Gently, he helped you sit up, supporting you with a hand on your back constantly. The city's sounds seeped through the window, a quiet hum of the small signs of life still in the distance.

“I'm here,” Jack reassured, leading you to the window. The cool night breeze brushed against your face, offering a welcome reprieve from the nightmare's grip.

“Take your time,” he encouraged, “just breathe.”

The city sprawled before you, a sea of a few lights and many shadows. Jack stood beside you, holding you, a silent presence radiating comfort.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice a vulnerable whisper.

He glanced at you, brushing your sweat soaked hair off of your cheek, ”You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You stood for a while, watching nothing in particular, not saying much, Jack offering a comforting touch continuously.

“I think I’m alright now.” You sighed, still feeling guilty for waking him up.

Jack guided you back to the bed, arranging the pillows for support. He laid your head gently against his head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”

You nodded, the exhaustion from the nightmare seeping into your bones. As you closed your eyes, Jack remained a comforting presence below you. He whispered occasional sentences, such as ‘we should go to Central Park tomorrow, all the ducklings are usually around this time of year.’

A while, he did this for. Just to keep some peaceful, happy images flowing through your brain as you drifted off again. He stayed awake, watching over you. The gentle ebb and flow of the city's sounds combined with the hushed murmur of Jack's reassurances, created a blanket of safety around your mind.

[shelbgrey]

Adventures in babysitting(Squinterns)

Paring: wife!Reader x Lance Sweets, Oc!Child x squinterns

Summary: not really an 'x reader' just the Squinterns having to watch Lance and y/n's daughter while they go an unexpected case.

A/n: AU where Vincent didn't die. the beginning of this sucks but it gets a bit better, I just had this idea but didn't know how to start it.

Master List

“mama look! a Firetruck” Charlotte smiled from the back set of the car, she hugged her stuffed penguin tight as watched on of her favorite vehicle pass by.

Y/n smiled at her daughters knew obsession that was firetruck, last week it was helicopters.

“yeah, isn't it cool” y/n smiled.

“maybe we have a future firefighter on our hands” her husband Lance smiled.

Y/n's eyes widened as she thought about her precious daughter in dangers line of work.

“I want to find skullys like Aunty Bones n mama” Charlotte said.

Y/n smiled at her daughter then looked at Lance as he continued to drive towrds the Museum that was connected to the jeffersonian. It was the first time in a while they both had the day off and the whole family was just a little too restless to stay home.

“I have to stop by my office first and give Cam a file though” y/n responded. Lance nodded. “okay”

“you wanna go see mommy's work?” Lance smiled.

“yeah!” she smiled as Lance let out a chuckle at his daughter's enthusiasm.

Once they got to the jeffersonian y/n carried Charlotte in her arms as she walked into the lab. Charlotte eyes wondered as her mother carried her around. The little girl was always amazed by the lab.

After she got what she wanted from the lab and gave Cam the file, Lance's phone rang.

“Hey Booth...” he said.

Lance let out a sigh, meaning Booth probably need us. He looked at his two favorite girls with disappointment as he hung up.

“what's up?” I asked.

“Booth neeeds us to Interrogate a few people and then you need to look at some remains at the crime scene with Brennan”

Y/n sighed and looked around. “one normal day... That's all I ask”

Lance nodded and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. Charlotte giggled making Lance smile, he quickly kissed his daughter's forehead.

“what are we gonna do about Charlie? The sitter is out of town for the weekend and I don't know about Arastoo” y/n said as see looked around the lab.

Charlotte, who didn't know what was going on, ignored her parents panic and played with the necklace around her mom's neck.

“don't panic... I'll head over to Bureau and get things sorted out, maybe you can drop Charlie off with Angies' dad, I know he's babysitting Michael Vincent today” Lance said. His wife nodded as they kissed each other good-bye

Y/n let out a sigh, as mush as she loved her brother's father-in-law she just didn't want to dump another baby on him unexpectedly.

“what's wrong mama? Are we gonna go see the pictures?” Charlotte asked.

“maybe later baby, mama and daddy have to work now” she looked around the half empty lab then stopped when she saw her favorite Squintern.

“Fisher!” she walked towrds him just as he clocked in. Before he could even say 'hello' y/n put Charlotte in his hands.

“Fishy!” she smiled as Fisher held the child out confuse. The little girl's feet dnagled as he held her like a child would an over sized doll. “wha-”

“I need you to watch Charlotte just for a bit, please Fisher” y/n pleaded. Fisher honestly couldn't say no, not because she was indeed his boss, but because he genuinely liked her and her family. Y/n Sweets or 'Lady Sweets' as she's referred to at work was the only one who saw Fisher as more than a depressed, Gothic Squint.

“but-”

“thanks Fisher, I owe you one!” she called out and left the building before he could protest, even if he got the chance he wouldn't but he just didn't know how to interact with kids.

“Fishy” Charlotte smiled as she dubbed over in his arms. “Fisher... And don't do that” he said pulling her back up and wrapping both arms around the small child so she was secure to his chest.

“ummm.....” Fisher said, confused on what to do. He jogged into the lab, the movement made Charlotte giggle. He set his boss' daughter on one of the examination tables.

“play with this” he said handding her the small flashlight that was in his breast pocket. She turned it on and pointed it at the stuffed penguin she brought, after awhile she started waving it around making bright light fly everywhere.

“ah” Fisher said in a very monotone voice as the light hit his eyes. “okay never mind” as he took and put it back in his pocket, he picked up the penguin and put in her arms so she wouldn't feel the loss of the flashlight.

“stay there” he said after the Computer dinged, he turned his back to her for a second. The little girl watched him move around and started to follow him not realizing she was still on a high table.

Fisher didn't relize it and Charlotte almost walked off the edge. “woah Charlie” Arastoo yelled and quickly grabed the three year old before she fell off what looked like a cliff to someone her size.

Fisher quickly whipped around with a panicked look. “sorry Charlotte” he said coming up to the little girl that was now in tan interns arms.

“unca asteroid!” the little girl smiled, she could never pronounce his name properly so it was always 'asteroid'.

“what is Lady Sweets' Daughter doing here?” Arastoo asked, adjusting the little girl to one arm. “she never let's her in the Lab unless she here”

“Lady Sweets and... Dr. Sweets got pulled into unexpected investigation and was deemed soul protector of this tiny life force for the time being” Fisher explained.

Arastoo and Charlotte gave him weired looks. “so your babysetting” Arastoo said simply, Charlotte who now under stood nodded quickly. Fisher shook his head and turned back to his computer as the security system dinged.

“Fishy!” Charlotte cheekily smiled as Fisher turned his back. “what's baby sweets doing here?” Wendell asked as him and Vincent walked in.

“and what are the rest of you doing here?” Fisher asked. Wendell smiled as Charlotte waved at him.

“Dr. Brennan required us to examine some century old remains while she's away” Vincent said as he walked up next to Arastoo. Charlotte smiled and reached for Vincent. The British Squintern smiled and shook her little hand. “hello little one”

“I'm guessing I'm out of this project” Fisher sighed as he closed a few tabs on his computer. Arastoo gave him a questioning look. “Fisher, when was the last time you actually watched a child?”

“well, both Sweets are very protective of Charlie, you must be doing something right for her to trust you” Wendell said.

“you here to work on the Bones too?” Vincent asked Wendell. He shook his head no. “actually im here to take over for Hodgins while he's in Seattle with Brennan and Angela.”

“I'll help if you like” Wendell added.

“just give the child back” Fisher sighed and held his arms out to Arastoo.

“we can help out with Charlie” Arastoo said as he set Charlotte on the one of the wheely chairs and spung her around. She giggled making the the young guys look at her in aw.

“we can take shifts, one of us can watch her while the others look at the Bones for Dr. Brennan” Wendell suggests, everyone agreed suprisenly.

“will Abernathy and Edison be joining us?” Vincent asks, the other men shrugged not sure who all Dr. Brennan had hired.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“please tell me that's one of the fake skulls” Edison said coming into y/n's office with a file.

Edison watched Charlotte play with the jaw and mouth of the plastic skull without a care in the world. She tossed it up then crawled after it. She quickly forget about it and ran towrds Arastoo as he entered the office as well.

“of corse it's fake” Fisher said rolling his eyes as he stood up from the ground. “did you guys find anything?” he asked.

“not really, Abernathy came by while you were in here and is helping out” Arastoo said picking Charlotte up and holding her on his hip.

Fisher let out a depressed sigh. “I see I've already been replaced”

“I wouldn't say that, you have the most important job today” Arastoo smiled as Charlotte stuck her toung out.

“her laughter dose sofen the stonyest of hearts” Fisher said.

“why she here in the first place?” Edison asked trying to remain professional but also not let his heart melt at the sight of the little girl.

“Lady Sweets got called into a crime Scene last minute” Arastoo said.

“unca asteroid... I'm hungry” Charlotte said looking up at Arastoo. Wendell walked in hearing the conversation. “I can get McDonald's... Anybody want anything?”

“can I have some nuggies? Pweez” she said giving all the male Squinterns puppy eye. “I'll go get it Charlie” Wendell smiled and ruffled her curly hair.

“chicken nuggets for the little lady” Wendell said emptying out the bag as Arastoo tried to get cartoons on the screen Angela installed in y/n's office.

“do any of you know how this works?” Arastoo asked. Wendell set down Charlotte's french frys and grabed the controler from Arastoo. “it's just like Angela's, I got this”

Wendell logged into the screen then turned on Hulu. “she likes Regular Show” Arastoo said as he took the controller and typed in the show.

“Did you know the average American eats almost 30 pounds of French fries a year?” Vincent said as he sat on the floor next to Charlotte to eat his fries.

He then turned to Charlotte. “we call these chips from where I'm from” he told the small girl.

“cool” she laughed.

“here ya go honey” Finn smiled giving her a small milkshake.

Once the show was set up and the food was out, it was technically the Squintern's lunch break, so they all(aside from Edison) filed into y/n's office to watch Cartoons and eat.

The commotion and child like giggles made Cam walk into what was supposed to be y/n's empty office.

“Hi honey” Arastoo said nervously as he waved at his fiance.

“hi Aunty cam!” Charlotte waved from her spot in Arastoo's lap.

“what are you guys doing?” she gave them a strange look as they all froze like deers in a pair of head lights, the only one who wasn't affected was Charlotte, who continued to eat her chicken nuggets.

“babysitting” Fisher said.

“on our lunch break” Wendell added quickly.

She sighed and walked out of the room, not wanting to get into it after she saw the bizarre cartoon. “ya know... don't want to know, carry on”

“bye Cam!” Charlotte shouted as the doctor left.

After lunch the Squinterns basically took turns taking care of the small child, while one was exmaing the century year old bones the other one was intertaning Charlotte.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“where could she be” Abernathy looked around the lab. He stoped at one of the tables then tried to jump scare Charlotte. “I gottcha!” he looked at her favorite hiding spot but she wasn't there. “hmm”

He looked around, moving chairs and files around, trying to find the little girl's hiding spot. This cought Edison's attention, he didn't really want to get involved with the little girl, but that didn't stop him from being curious.

“what are you doing Abernathy?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the skull he was examining. Abernathy peaked under one of the examination tables then back at Edison. “playin' hide-n-seek with Little Charlie” he smiled like it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“she’s Slicker Than Pig Snot on a Radiator” Abernathy said as he looked around the lab some more. Edison looked up annoyed. “she's a good hider or you lost her?”

Abernathy sighed and gave him a 'really?' look. “look, I didn' loose her... I have a kid sister, I know how to take care of a kid”

Edison looked up and watched the little girl run into Cam's office to hide under her desk. He watched the little girl quickly run back to the threshold beacuse she dripped her blue penguin plush, before Abernathy could see she ran under the desk.

“she's over yonder” Edison said in a terrible Southern accent.

“Aw man!” Charlotte wined as she heard Edison give out her hiding spot. She came out hugging her penguin.

“that's not nice” Charlotte grumbled, they didn't know if she was talking about cheating or the fact Edison was making fun of Abernathy's slang. She was talking about both.

“well, you won little lady, I couldn't find ya” Abernathy shrugged with a smile. Charlotte smiled up at Abernathy as he called for Arastoo, it was his turn and Abernathy had to help Edison for a bit.

Arastoo glady took his tern next, he had Charlotte on his back, running around with his arms out while making airplane noise.

“to infinity and beyond” Charlotte giggled as Arastoo ran past Cam's office. She of course saw and scolded them as her motherly instincts started to show.

“please don't run in the Lab! One of you might get hurt” she sighed. Arastoo stoped, making his shoes squeek on the shiny floor. Charlotte rested her chin on Arastoo's shoulder and gave Cam puppy eyes. “aw”

Arastoo gave his fiance a sarcastic pouty face like Charlotte's real one. “aw” he repeated.

She rolled her eyes and gave Arastoo a quick kiss. Charlotte giggled and made fake kissy noises. Cam laughed at the little girl she considered her niece, she kissed the little girl on her cheek and went back into her office.

“have you heard from Sweets or Y/n?” he asked before came went into her office. “they should be back soon” cam respond.

Arastoo nodded as Charlotte let out a yawn then rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck so she wouldn't fall off.

Cam tilted her head and smiled softly. “she looks tired”

He turned his head so he could see the sleepy child. “I'll take her to y/n's office, so she can nap”

As Arastoo walked into y/n's office Fisher came into with his lab coat off. “well I'm done for the day... With the remains that is”

“that's good” Arastoo said gently setting Charlotte on the couch in her mother's office and used his lab coat as a blanket for her.

“you can go if you like, I'll stay with her while Cam dose some last minute paper work” Arastoo said setting on the couch next to her.

Fisher shook his head. “no, lady Sweets truted me, so I should do my share”

“she's not going anywhere... She sleeps like a rock” Arastoo said as Fisher made his spot on the ground infront of the couch.

Y/n and Lance came in about an hour and half later with a soft smile. Lance gently picked up his daughter while she remained fast asleep.

“thank for watching her guys, I know you weren't expecting to spend your day like this” y/n smiled.

Fisher shrugged. “it was quite interesting... It wasn't hard to intertaning ourselves”

“and I had some help...” Fisher added.

“little angel like always” Arastoo added with a smile as Cam walked in with her coat. “ready to go?” she asks softly so she didn't wake up Charlotte.

“yup, good night guys” he smiled and left with Cam. “night” Lance said holding his sleeping daughter close.

“thanks again guys” y/n waved at the other Squinterns as her and her family left the Jeffersonian, the tired parents thankful their little ball of energy will sleep well tonight.

[poppitron360]

I have a big big deadline coming up at work, and it’s been really stressing me out. However, instead of focusing on that (which is what I should be doing), my stupid, dopamine-chasing brain has been thinking about nothing but this singular piece of Valgrace fanfiction I’ve been working on for the past two weeks.

A lot of you requested to be tagged in it once it was finished so you could read it, based on this post that I made about it. So anyway:

@moonssong @lavenderfairiez @huntingrays @hazellevessque @onion-dishwasher @the-aro-ace-of-spades

Here you are. Go nuts.

Concept: Leo goes back to Texas after the War to get some closure on that miserable chapter of his life. Jason decides to tag along, but little does he know that this trip’s real purpose is to do more than just tie up loose ends…

CWs: Swearing, blood, lack of smut (they are teenagers)

I tried to write it so that it could be interpreted as a friendship thing if that’s what you want (although there is a lot of Staring Deeply Into Leo’s Sad Brown Eyes, and Holding Him Tightly In Jason’s Big Strong Arms). But no actual kissing or anything. I think “wanting to be there for someone” is a universal thing, so I tried to make it up to interpretation.

This is also FUCKING LONG (as this has been my main form of procrastination for the past two weeks), so you have been warned. Final Word Count: 5,934!

Valgrace Fanfiction: “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Not sure on the name tbh. Lmk if you have any better ideas.

Leo took the window seat and Jason sat next to him. Jason watched as Leo leaned his head against the window of the bus and closed his eyes, breathing softly, his curly hair vibrating against the glass. There was no cheeky grin on his face. No playful twinkle in his eye.

“You look tired,” Jason mused.

Leo nodded, not opening his eyes, and breathed out almost inaudibly through his parted lips, the vapour from his breath making a circle of mist on the window. He looked utterly dejected. Jason examined his best friend’s features, taking in his sunken cheekbones, his pointed nose, his dirt-covered face. Only now did he realise how thin Leo was- his clothes hung loosely around his body, cinched in by his tool-belt and suspenders, but even those seemed disproportionately loose on his tiny frame. His arms and hands were bony, and covered in scars. Jason’s body was pushed up against Leo’s on the cramped bus seat, and he could feel the bones of Leo’s emaciated ribcage pressing against his side. He thought he truly saw for the first time that kid who had run away so many times, who grew up on the streets. He wondered how Leo had survived all those years alone- demigods weren’t supposed to make it on their own past thirteen, but Leo had been completely by himself for seven years. Jason couldn’t think what that might’ve done to him. What he’d been through. Leo never talked about the foster homes much, but Jason got the sense they had been rough- he had mentioned once about sleeping in a sewer. Jason studied the scars on Leo’s arm. He had scars too, they all did. But Leo’s seemed to tell a different story, more bleak and depressing, like he hadn’t always been able to fight back. There was nothing funny about that, Jason decided.

He reached out, and brushed a strand of curly hair away from Leo’s face. He didn’t flinch at the touch, and Jason wondered if he might be asleep, but soon he felt Leo’s hands slip into his, his bony fingers were gentle and warm to the touch- as if to say “I’m here. I’m okay.” His skin was rough and calloused, but Jason didn’t mind their lack of softness. He cupped Leo’s tiny hand in both of his own, as if to respond “I’m here too. It’s okay.” Leo’s fingers were completely covered by Jason’s big palms, and they wriggled against his skin, tapping out a strange arhymic pattern. Jason figured it was morse code, but he couldn’t translate it. He recognised the pattern as the same one Leo was always tapping out with those restless fingers.

“I can feel everything,” Leo whispered, weakly. His eyes were still closed. His voice was low and hollow and raspy, like it had lost all of its brightness. Something about the way he spoke had changed too- his vowels dragged out longer, his consonants became softer, more rounded. Jason could hear the warm tones of a hispanic accent seeping through, like Leo was too tired to hide it anymore.

“What?”

“The bus. I can feel all the machinery beneath us- the axels and pistons and gears and motors- it’s clouding my brain. No way I can sleep,” He explained.

Jason listened to the low hum of the bus engine as it bounced along the winding road. He imagined it must be a hundred times louder for Leo, who could sense every single moving part. He squeezed his hand sympathetically. No wonder Leo had trouble focusing all the time.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jason asked.

Leo shook his head, his head still resting against the glass.

“Just promise me we’ll find a place to stop and rest soon,” He said.

Jason rubbed a thumb over the back of Leo’s warm hand. “Okay,” He assured him.

Leo nodded, softly.

They sat in silence, Jason watching Leo breathing. His brow would furrow with soft despair when the bus sped up, like the movement caused him pain. His breathing was shallow and weak, and Jason could feel his lungs expanding and retracting underneath his skin. Eventually, Jason rested his head on Leo’s bony shoulder and closed his eyes. His shoulder-blade was digging into his cheek uncomfortably, and the dirt and grime on Leo’s face was rubbing into his hair, but he didn’t mind. He breathed in Leo’s warm smell. He smelled like smoke. Woodsmoke, like a campfire. He smelled like the metallic aroma of rust and motor oil. It wasn’t usually a pleasant smell, but it smelled good on Leo. Just like the hardness of his rough skin felt good brushing gently against Jason’s palms. Everything about Leo was coarse and rough and dirtied, reflecting the gritty hardness of the forges and workshops he’d grown up with and surrounded himself with. Despite being so small and weak, Leo was by no means soft or delicate. Jason thought again about that little boy, skin and bones, growing up orphaned and alone. While Camp Jupiter had never really been caring or familial, it had still been there for Jason when he needed it. He’d always had safety, food, friends, a place to stay. Leo had had none of that. Suddenly, Jason felt a surge of protectiveness. He wasn’t gonna let Leo go through that anymore. He was gonna make sure Leo was safe, that he had food, friends, a place to stay. Yeah, you’re doing great at that so far, Jason thought, but he pushed the feeling down.

He leaned in closer to Leo and whispered in his ear.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Jason…” Leo whispered in return, “You know you didn’t have to come with me.”

“We’ve had this conversation, Leo. You shouldn’t have to be here alone.”

Leo tilted his head so that it rested against Jason’s instead of the window. He was silent for a long time.

“I… I’m glad you’re here, Jason.”

He really did sound tired.

Jason absent-mindedly traced the lines of Leo’s palm with his fingers. He heard the tires hiss and he sat up. They had arrived.

Huston bus station was about as grimy as Leo’s workshop, but with none of the charm or magic of it. It had low plasticky ceilings stained nicotine yellow, the grout in the cracks of the tile floor were peeling and cracking. Jason did his best to avoid a mysterious stain that looked suspiciously like blood, as Leo led him through the jostling crowd, pulling him by the arm. Once they were out onto the street, Jason nudged Leo’s shoulder to tell him to stop.

“Let’s find a hotel. I promised you we’d get you a place to sleep. We’ll talk game plan in the morning.”

It was hard to tell with the hot Texas sun beating down on them, but it was getting late.

“Yeah… I guess taking a sightseeing tour of the locations of the most traumatic moments of my life can wait until morning.”

The next morning came, heralded by the autumn sun.

“Can I just get these, please?” Leo handed the gum and the 6-pack of water to the man behind the kiosk. The tiny newsagent’s shop was empty except for them and a guy in the corner, looking at the chips.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” The shopkeeper asked.

Leo looked around nervously, “No, I don’t think so, partner. You might be thinking of that guy in the movies- Antonio Banderas. I’m told we look a lot alike.”

“No…” the guy said, squinting at Leo, “Wait- you’re that Valdez boy!”

A look panic flashed across Leo’s face, but he tried to keep his cool.

“Nah, man, you’ve got the wrong guy-“

“No- it is you. Boy, you’ve got guts showing your face here again. The police came ‘round asking questions ‘bout you, y’know? From what I heard, you burned down your mom’s machine shop and ran away. I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on you right now-”

He reached for the phone.

“No! Look- I don’t want any trouble, okay? Can we just buy these and go?” Leo’s eyes were pleading and desperate.

“You’ve got three seconds to leave my shop before I call the cops.”

“But-“

“GET OUTTA HERE, FREAK!!”

Leo ran. Jason ran after him, but not before turning and flashing his best raised-by-wolves death-glare at the shopkeeper.

“Hey-“ Jason said, finally catching up with him three streets away. Leo was a fast runner. “You okay? What that guy said-“

“It’s fine!” Leo said, his voice high-pitched and a little hysterical, “No big deal, just… no gum. That’s fine.”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. He made his voice low and gentle, “Leo… this must be really hard for you. Talk to me.”

Leo shook his head, “We have to keep moving. Aunt Rosa’s house is this way.”

Leo led Jason through the busy Huston streets, twisting down roads and sidewalks. Suddenly, he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks so fast, Jason nearly ran into him. He was staring at a large brick building on the corner of the street. The sign above it read “Bookstore”.

“They… they rebuilt it…” Leo said.

Jason realised what he was talking about.

“This was your mom’s machine shop?”

“I c-can’t believe they rebuilt it…”

“Leo… it did burn down nine years ago,” Jason told him. Then, realising that that was probably not the best thing to say, he added, “I know this is hard. Do you need a minute?” After all, Leo had grown up here. Seeing his childhood home not only burned to the ground but rebuilt, totally erasing those moments, must’ve been torture.

Jason squeezed Leo’s arm comfortingly. Leo nodded, “Yeah… thanks,” he whispered.

Jason kept a respectful distance as Leo walked up to the building. He watched as Leo pressed his forehead against the bricks, his calloused hands gently caressing the stone, as if trying to remember the way it used to feel. He saw his fingers tapping out that message he always tapped. He saw Leo’s mouth moving, whispering silently to the building. After a while, he began to approach Leo, but then hesitated when he saw the tears in his eyes. But now, he was close enough to hear him. Leo was humming, softly. A sweet, lilting melody. He hadn’t noticed Jason was standing there. Jason watched as Leo drew a shaky breath, and began to sing.

Jason didn’t understand the words- they were in Spanish- but he could hear the roundness of the syllables, the way the vowels and consonants danced up and down, in and out. He couldn’t believe how right it felt, hearing Leo speak the language. Leo had a weird way of talking- the sentences would stop and start in jagged spikes, gliding rapidly right over full stops, and pausing right in the middle, like his brain was moving a thousand times faster than his mouth. His words felt odd and out of place. But now… Jason realised this was the first time he’d heard Leo speak Spanish at length- more than just a few phrases, under-the-breath insults, and frustrated cursing. He felt bad, eavesdropping on him when he clearly was never comfortable enough to speak the language around Jason, but man… it was beautiful. The sound of his voice was enthralling- tendrils of words wrapping around his chest and arms, softly caressing his skin. Jason felt warm inside, like he had just drunk a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter’s day. He wondered if Leo’s song had some sort of fire magic in it, filling him with comfort and homeliness, and a memory came back to him. Him and Thalia sitting at the hearth on Christmas day, watching the flames dance as they toasted marshmallows. The feeling didn’t flicker and die when Leo finished his song, either. Jason stood there, stunned as the last few notes hung in the air.

“Woah, Leo…”

Leo tuned, startled, snapping out of his trance. Something flashed in his eyes- Panic? Fear? Jason felt guilty. Leo was having a private moment, and he was intruding.

“H-how long have you been standing there?“ He asked.

“Just a few minutes. Leo, that was beautiful. Where did you learn-“

“A lullaby. My mom used to…” he trailed off, and looked at the building. Then, wiping his tear-stained eyes with the back of his sleeve, he said, “Look, can we go now?”

They stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door of Leo’s Aunt’s apartment. Jason rubbed Leo’s back, reassuringly.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked.

“You keep asking me that!” Leo complained, but his eyes shifted nervously and his fingers restlessly picked at the skin around his thumb. Jason grabbed his hand and squeezed it- “I’m here.”

Leo’s big brown eyes looked into Jason’s. He looked grateful for his company. Then, he let his hand drop as he walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

An old woman answered. She had Leo’s curly hair and dark skin, but unlike Leo, she was ugly. In a sort of cinderella-ugly-step-sister way. Her nose was hooked and pointed. Her mouth snarled and her eyes squinted into wrinkled crows-feet.

“Uhh… hey, Aunt Rosa,” Leo said, wringing his hands, nervously.

“Well, look who decided to come back,” the old witch sneered, “you’ve got guts, boy.”

She spat out the word “boy” like Leo was some sort of vermin. Jason felt anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Look, I just wanna talk. Maybe apologise? I’ve done a lot of thinking-“

Leo was cut short when the old crone started howling with laughter.

“What makes you think I’d give any attention to you, after what you did, Diablo?”

Leo took a step back, fear and hurt flashing in his busy eyes.

“It- it was an accident-“

Jason had been keeping his distance up until now, but he moved closer to Leo and put a hand on his back, staring at the woman defensively.

“Look, lady, Leo and I… we came all this way so that he could do what he needed to do to make things right. Do you know how much guts it takes to want to apologise and make amends, especially after how you treated him? Leo’s doing something brave here, and you should at least hear him out, you owe your sister that much.”

The old lady scoffed, and barked something to Leo accusatorially in Spanish. Leo backed away again, fearfully, mumbling a response. Jason only became angrier. He hated seeing Leo like this.

“Leo doesn’t owe you any sort apology whatsoever,” Jason growled, “And yet he’s still offering one. Even though it wasn’t his fault. Even though you treated him like shit!”

“Hey, Jason, maybe we should go-“

Jason looked in Leo’s eyes and mouthed, “Do you want to leave?”

Leo nodded, “Jason, please…” he whispered.

Jason hated seeing Leo so afraid and helpless. With one last glowering look at Leo’s Aunt Rosa, he guided Leo away.

“Freak! Diablo!” Rosa called, “Worthless, Satan Spawn, good-for-nothing-“

She didn’t have time to finish the insult. With one swift motion, Jason spun around and punched her square in her ugly face. She crumpled to the floor, moaning.

“Leo Valdez is fucking amazing,” Jason said, standing over the old woman, “You are fucking blessed to even be associated with him. You have no right to treat him the way you did. You know that it wasn’t his fault what happened, but you made him think that it was. You’re a fucking disgrace. Now, I wholeheartedly think that Leo should not apologise to you. But if that’s what he needs to do,” he looked over at Leo, and smiled, then looked back at the old crone, “then you’re gonna fucking hear him out, okay?”

She nodded, still rolling on the floor. Leo walked over and stood by Jason. He didn’t help her up.

“Aunt Rosa,” he said, and then paused for a moment, looking at Jason, and then looking back down, “Fuck you.”

Jason patted him on the back, and they walked away together. As they got further and further down the street, Leo stated sobbing.

“Oh, hey, no, it’s okay…” Jason assured him, “Sorry, did I-“

“You were great,” Leo said, “It’s just…”

He hugged his shoulders. Jason walked in front of him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

“Hey. Look at me. Don’t let what she said get to you, okay? She’s not worth it.”

Leo chucked, but the laugh turned into more sobs.

“Hey… hey… that was really brave, what you did.”

Leo dug his fingernails into his arm. He was hugging his right forearm close to his chest, hiding his scars from Jason that he knew for a fact were there. Jason wondered once again where they had come from. What their story was. But he didn’t dare ask. He pulled Leo into a hug, right there in the middle of that busy Texas street. Fragile, and shaking, Leo was a mess. But Jason held him, and stroked his hair, and whispered soft words of comfort.

“I don’t know what she has against Spawns of Satan,” Leo said eventually, “Nico and Hazel are lovely. It’s not really an insult.”

And there it was. The jokes. Leo took a deep breath, and Jason could practically see the mask come up. It had slipped away for those few moments while Jason held him, and he had caught a glimpse of that vulnerable, scared little eight-year-old boy. But now his defences were up. He had let Jason in for just a second, and Jason wanted so desperately to be let in again. To get to know the real Leo. To be able to comfort that little boy, maybe even help heal him. Bandage his bleeding scars.

“Next stop,” Leo said, “Mom.”

The cemetery was beautiful. Peach trees lined the gravel pathway, rustling in the late autumn breeze. Jason watched Leo closely as he walked down the path, scanning for the gravestone he wanted. Leo’s dark brown eyes caught the low light of the evening street-lamps. They reminded Jason those bugs stuck in amber you could buy in museum gift shops. He felt in danger of becoming like one of them, perpetually lost in that deep liquid gold. He could swim in them for eternity, preserved in beautiful stillness for all time. If those dark irises dared lock themselves on his, they would pull him under, and he would be trapped forever in perfect torture.

Leo turned a corner and trekked down a well-trodden path in the grass. He wove through the headstones until he found the one he needed.

Jason stood behind him, tapping his own fingers nervously on the back of his other hand. He realised he was copying Leo’s rhythm- he’d committed it to memory without even learning what it meant.

He watched as Leo knelt down by the headstone. The engraving on the headstone read “Esperanza Valdez, beloved daughter, wonderful sister. You will be missed.”

Jason noticed with another surge of anger that the epitaph did not say “mother”. Leo had been cast out by his family, and the hard work and sacrifices his mom had made to raise him weren’t even recognised on her gravestone.

“H-hey, mom…” Leo said, trying to keep a cheery note in his voice, “How’s it going? Good? Good.”

He kept talking to the stone, commenting on small things like the weather, how his day had been, what he had for breakfast (he’d lied and said oatmeal, but Jason knew he hadn’t eaten anything that morning). Jason could see he was desperately trying to keep it together, not wanting to let his walls down again. Eventually, Leo turned to him.

“Hey man, there’s something I gotta do. Alone. Can you just maybe… I dunno… wander ‘round the shops for a bit? I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

His eyes were dull and unsaturated in the cold light of the evening. He looked at the headstone with something other than just grief- purpose. But not the twinkle Jason saw when he had an idea for an invention. A sort of quiet resolve. It was unsettling.

Jason didn’t want to leave Leo on his own. He moved closer, reached up, and touched Leo’s face. He took off Leo’s mask, and looked at the broken boy behind it.

“I… I…”

Suddenly, Leo crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Jason caught him. He held Leo’s trembling arms in his firm grip. The underside of his arms were covered in a patchwork of faded scars. Jason caught another glimpse of that boy- the runaway, helpless and alone. He imagined those scars freshly bleeding, no-one there to clean the cut or dry his tears. It was that boy that stood in front of him. That boy that crumpled to the floor sobbing at Jason’s feet, as he held his arms tightly in his strong grip.

“I’m sorry…” The boy said, his voice small.

Jason crouched down, letting go of one of the arms and putting a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up. His big brown eyes were watery with tears, filled with sorrow and remorse and fear.

“The… the reason you came here,” Jason said, slowly, “Was not to visit your Aunt Rosa, was it?”

Leo didn’t meet his gaze. Jason’s hand dropped from holding his chin, and Leo looked down at his hands, one still clutched in Jason’s own.

“A ritual…” Leo said, “I found it in a book at Camp… I… I could fix my mistakes.”

“By bringing your mom back?” Jason guessed.

Leo shook his head, “My mom’s gone. Nothing’s gonna bring her back… but I’d be able to get rid of the thing that killed her.”

Jason grabbed Leo’s shaking shoulders, his grip firm, yet gentle. He touched Leo’s cheek with his other hand, his fingers lightly grazing his skin, hurriedly trying to commit it to memory.

“Leo, you mean you’re gonna-“

Leo shook his head. “Not that. My powers,” he explained, “If I give them up, I might be able to reconcile for what I did. I could be at peace.”

He looked up at Jason, his eyes so full of anguish and hurt it made Jason’s heart break.

“I never lied to you, Jason. I did come here to get closure.”

Jason held Leo’s tiny, shaking body against his.

“Leo, it wasn’t your fault, okay? You have to believe me when I tell you it wasn’t your fault.”

“I lost everything in that fire, Jason. These powers have cost me so much.”

“Leo, please believe me,” Jason begged, “You don’t deserve to hurt yourself like this.”

Leo didn’t respond. Jason realised that he was afraid. Afraid of himself. Afraid of hurting others. Afraid of his power, despite all the good it had done, despite all the times it had saved Jason’s life. Leo only ever saw all the bad it did. Why couldn’t Leo would see himself the way Jason saw him- brave and good and kind? Then he remembered Aunt Rosa- the way Leo had backed away from her, afraid and guilty. The way she had reduced Leo to a small-voiced child with just a fierce glance. Jason couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve been like having her as your only family. He figured the foster homes hadn’t been much kinder to Leo, judging by the assortment of scars across his skin. And the shopkeeper- how Leo’s eyes were desperate and panicked, how he had ran from that place, how the man had yelled at him so fiercely. If Leo’s powers were responsible for doing all that to him, Jason didn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of them. Jason did want to get rid of them- nothing that hurts Leo like that should ever be allowed to continue existing.

He hugged Leo tighter.

“You know I can’t let you do this, Leo. It’s dangerous. I mean, if it’s never been done before… what kind of side effects might it have? Will it just get rid of your fire or your other abilities as well?”

Leo shook his head, “I’m still a son of Hephaestus. That would never change. But the gift… curse… whatever he gave me- that’ll be gone. It’s served its purpose now, so The Fates will allow it. But I can be a normal demigod.”

Jason was pretty sure the words “normal” and “demigod” had never been used side-by-side before.

“Leo, these powers have saved my life so many times. All of our lives. You can’t just… by letting them go, you’d be erasing all the good that you’ve done. Please, try to see my point of view. I don’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

“It’s my decision, Jason. My whole life, I’ve wished I’d never gotten these powers. I don’t care if I can use them to help people- I don’t want to risk hurting anyone else,” Leo looked down at the gravestone.

Jason remembered the warmth Leo had filled him with when he had sung his mom’s lullaby. The joy and happiness he had felt. That wasn’t bad. That couldn’t have been bad.

“Leo, you can’t do this.”

“You’re not changing my mind, Jason.”

And Jason knew he was right.

“If this is what you need to do, Leo…” he whispered, softly, “Then I’m not gonna stop you. But there are better ways. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I do. You don’t understand, Jason. You never knew your mom. I had something, and then it was taken away as a result of my own mistakes. That’s worse than never having had it in the first place.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jason snapped, “Leo, I get it. You’re hurting. And I want to be here for you. I really do. This whole trip-“

He stopped and took a deep breath.

“This whole trip, I’ve been trying to make myself a safe space for you to open up to me. For you to let down those walls, let me in, let me see you,” he took Leo’s hands in his, “Because what I want more than anything right now, is to see you, Leo. The real you. Behind the jokes, and the smiles, and the “everything is fines”. I can’t bear to stand by and watch you do something I know you’d regret, but if this is what it takes to gain your trust, then I’d do it. For you.”

He knew this wasn’t right. He knew Leo was making a really bad choice, and Jason saw no future where he didn’t live to regret it. Leo would not be at peace. He would still be weak and afraid, just now he would also be powerless. But he knew he couldn’t stop Leo. And he couldn’t let him do it alone, he just couldn’t. Leo had been alone his whole life, and Jason couldn’t abandon him when Leo needed him most. And Jason wanted to be with him. Be there for him. He wanted to see that little boy again. But it shouldn’t be about what he wanted. Deep down, Jason knew he was being selfish.

With shaking hands, Leo reached into his backpack and brought out a thick leather-bound book. Jason recognised it as the kind of thing they kept on the bookshelf of the Athena cabin. Leo opened the tome, and flicked through until he found the page he needed. His dark eyes scanned the instructions, then he reached into his backpack again and brought out a knife and a vial of glowing red liquid, and set them both on the grass in front of him.

“Leo…” Jason said, looking at the knife.

“It needs my blood for the ritual, Jason,” Leo said.

“So, you’re really going through with this?” Jason asked, not meeting those eyes of amber.

Leo didn’t answer right away, just studied the book, knife, and vial in front of him. He studied his mother’s grave, tracing the name “Esperanza” with his eyes.

“I… I don’t…”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s cheek, forcing him to look his way.

“Leo, it’s okay.”

Leo tried to hold the glass vial steady to drink it, but his hands were shaking too much. Jason gently took it from his grasp, and held it up to Leo’s lips. This is a bad idea, he thought, but it’s for Leo. It’s what he wants. Jason poured the weird red stuff into Leo’s mouth, and Leo did his best to swallow it down. He shivered.

Leo sat back on his knees, facing the gravestone. He took the knife in shaking hands and dragged it across his palm. He whimpered in pain as the blood seeped out of the cut and down his wrists. He collapsed on the ground, his hands out in front of him, digging his fingers into the dirt. Jason watched as, sobbing, Leo read aloud the words from the book. Jason didn’t understand Ancient Greek, but he got the gist. This was some serious magic going on. Leo screwed his eyes up in painful concentration, repeating the chant over and over. His fingers dug deeper into the ground, and his hands caught fire. Jason took a step back as the fire grew. Leo cried out.

But then, the fire sank back to a flicker, then it was gone. Where it had been, tendrils of red, orange, and gold light were coming from Leo’s fingers like tree roots, spreading into the dirt. They wrapped around his mother’s headstone- making it look overgrown with flame-coloured vines. The light glowed brighter and brighter, and as it did, Leo’s breathing got shallower and weaker. Eventually, the light became so blinding white that Jason had to avert his eyes. Then he heard a grunt, and the sound of a body hitting the soft dirt. Jason turned and saw Leo lying on the ground, shivering. He ran over and scooped him up in his arms. Leo’s skin was cold to the touch- colder than Jason had ever felt on Leo before. His cut hand was stained with grass and mud.

“Leo!” Jason called.

He didn’t answer. He was unconscious. Leo inhaled, shakily, and his breath was sharp and painful. Jason could only hold him.

Eventually, Leo opened his eyes.

“J-Jason?” He said, weakly.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked.

“Are… are people this cold usually?”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help himself. He hugged Leo tighter.

“Did it work?” Jason asked, after a minute.

Leo shakily got to his feet. Jason kept a hand on his waist to steady him. Leo held out his hand, and closed his eyes in concentration. Nothing happened.

“It worked,” he said. He wasn’t smiling. Jason realised that Leo didn’t want to lose the powers either, but was doing it because he thought it was for the best.

Leo fished a cigarette lighter out of his tool belt. He flicked on the flame, and held it underneath his palm. Jason grabbed Leo’s wrist and yanked it away from the fire.

“Careful,” Jason said, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’d prefer to find out if I’m still fireproof or not now, rather than in a life-or-death situation,” Leo reasoned. He moved to put the lighter under his hand again. Jason didn’t stop him, but he wasn’t happy about it. Leo gasped in pain as the flame blistered his skin. He yelped and dropped the lighter. Luckily, the flame went out before it hit the grass. Leo nursed his burned hand.

“Ouch,” he said, “That… that was…”

Jason knew what Leo must’ve been feeling. He had never been burned before. He had gotten a taste for the first time of how his mom must’ve felt in her final moments. That tiny burn on his hand adding to the many, many scars.

Leo was shivering. “Seriously, why is it so cold?” He said. Jason wrapped his arms around him, still getting used to Leo’s newfound lack of radiator-ness. For once, Leo had to depend on Jason for warmth. Only now, did it occur to Jason the gravity of what they’d done. Leo would never summon another fireball to save Jason from certain death. Jason would never roast a marshmallow over his best friend’s head again. He no longer had an excuse to cuddle up next to him on cold winter nights (not that he wanted to cuddle Leo for any reason other than for warmth). Jason would never watch in awe as Leo stoked the forges with his bare hands. Leo was normal now, but was normal necessarily better? Jason had never thought so, but then again, he had always been revered- held aloft on a golden shield, praised as a leader- for the abilities he had inherited.

Jason knew about the bullying at Camp. After Leo had revealed his powers to Cabin 9, the rumours had spread like, well, fire. His siblings had been supportive, but the other cabins not as much. Jason knew Leo hated the looks he’d get at mealtimes, so much that he often hid in Bunker 9 to work on the Argo II. He’d get nasty comments, people calling him a freak and an arsonist, and he’d tried to downplay how much it had affected him, but Jason knew. The worst were the fights. Leo just curled up on the ground and lay there while the other campers pummelled him. Jason had begged him to fight back, he knew Leo could hold his own, but Leo had just looked down sadly, and said, “I can’t fight back. I don’t want to let myself go. I don’t wish the fate of my mother on anyone, even those fuckers.”

No. Normal was better for Leo. Safer.

“Let’s go,” Leo said.

“Back to the hotel?”

“No. Bus station. I’ve got what I came for now. I don’t ever wanna see this place again.”

He turned to the gravestone, and traced his mother’s name with his fingers, ‘Bye, Mom.”

Leo took the window seat on the bus ride back to camp. He did not rest his head on Jason’s. He did not hold his hand. He just sat, looking sadly out the window as the entire state of Texas passed by them.

“Can I ask you something?” Jason said.

“You just did,” Leo replied.

“Why Huston? I mean, I thought you told yourself you’d never go back there.”

“The ritual required a place that was meaningful to the person performing it.”

He didn’t offer any other explanation, and Jason decided not to push it.

“Jason… can you not tell the others what happened here? They’d freak. I just… I can’t deal with having to explain my choices to them. Not right now.”

Jason hesitated for a moment, but then said, “Of course, Leo.”

Leo still wasn’t meeting his gaze.

“It’s funny…” Jason said, “We started this chapter of our lives on a bus. We’re ending it on a bus…”

Leo began to cry.

“Oh… oh no, sorry, Leo, I didn’t-“

Leo hid his face in his hands. Jason tried to touch his shoulder, but Leo shrugged him off. They stayed like that- Jason helpless as Leo sobbed.

Jason had tried to get closer to Leo. He had tried to see through that mask. He had hoped that letting Leo do what he needed to do might make Leo let him in. But Leo still pushed him away. He might always push him away. Leo rubbed his eyes with the heal of his hand, and resumed looking out the window.

And a little part of Jason died inside.

[obae-me]

if it's alright, can i request the demon brothers (separately, if not all of them just lucifer, leviathan, and belphegor are okay!) with an insomniac s/o who paces around the house of lamentation at night? thank you so much! i love your writing, and i thought the coffee order post was really cute! be well and take care <3

Of course! As someone with insomnia, I know this all too well. I'm glad you liked my little coffee post! This'll be so cute, thanks for the ask!

Their eyes opened... Sitting up in bed, they sigh, irritation waking their body more than it already had been. The ends of their fingers twitch against their covers. Another restless night. Not that they were surprised. They barely got a good night's sleep back in their own world. Of course, their demonic roommates tried to give them different remedies to help them sleep, but they weren't foolproof, it seemed.

So they stood, folding the covers away from them with an easy flourish, since it was a motion they knew all too well. Their toes curled against the cold floor to their room before they moved, covering themselves with a robe they'd been gifted. It was more to keep themselves warm. They didn't bother tying the string against them, letting the back billow behind them as they suddenly left their room.

Whenever they found themselves unable to sleep, they'd come out here to wander. The House was always so quiet at this time...it settled a soft sort of peace in them. Maybe it was partially to blame for their insomnia, unable to fully rest until they'd done their nightly patrol. But who knows what causes the human mind to stay awake? These halls and rooms were usually so noisy, facing a different series of calamities and chaos at any given moment. Now all the demons were asleep, even those who did their best to stay up all night. It was almost as if the human could feel their deep breaths as they passed by the bedrooms.

Then they found themselves checking the main rooms. The dining room, the music room, the library. They took in the vast emptiness, recalling all the fun times they'd had in these walls. Although certain rooms with certain memories called to them more than others. Special moments alone with the demon they loved.

Lucifer

He has a rather uncanny sixth sense. Most can chalk it up to being the eldest brother of six other unruly demons. Anytime someone is awake or something feels off, it usually sends an something akin to an alert through the back of his skull. He sat up in bed, looking around his room, trying to get a feeling for what might've woken him up. Unable to hear anything from his room, he decided to leave the comfort of his bed and check the House just in case.

As if guided by an unseen force, he seemed to head right into the direction he needed to go. The music room doors were slightly ajar. Although there seemed to be nothing amiss, he could feel the presence of someone inside. So he slipped in, quiet as a shadow, folding his arms but allowing his tired and irritated mind to mellow as the one he spotted was none other than his beloved human.

They were looking through the many records he kept in here, careful to avoid the ones he'd gone out of his way to mark as cursed. Although it seemed to him that they had no intention to play any, just simply looking through them to keep themselves occupied.

He could've walked in without making a sound, but he let the hinges of the door creek enough to signal his presence. They looked behind their shoulder just as he wrapped his arms around them from behind. "Can't sleep?" He mused, a sleepy slur to his voice. Moments like these, when they were alone and exhaustion was more prevalent than his sin were special ones indeed.

"When can I ever?" They sighed heavily, clearly frustrated and tired, but leaning against him.

They felt him lean down, his usually taut and stern shoulders slouching. His chin rested on atop their head. It was a sharp little bone, but MC couldn't help but sigh contently anyway. His voice was low and soft as he spoke. "How many times I have told you now to come get me during nights like this?" During the day, such a phrase might've come across like a scold, but it only sounded sincere. "My doors are always open for you, my dear."

"I never want to bother you. You get such little sleep as it is already..."

Lucifer turned MC around in his arms, looking into their eyes. "Sleep is not as crucial to demons as it is to humans. Besides," he ran his fingers through their hair, "I would sleep much better knowing you were getting rest." The back of his knuckles then brushed against their cheekbone. "Why don't you come join me in my room tonight? I'll put on a record and hold you till you fall asleep. I'll put you to bed, and you'll dream sweetly. I promise."

His way of caring for them is very soft, a fairly stark contrast to the Lucifer the rest of the world knows. Soft melodies, soft kisses, soft blankets, soft wings, soft spoken words. He will ensure they sleep peacefully throughout the rest of the night with him.

Mammon

He's known about the insomnia thing since MC first started living with them. And for reasons he couldn't trace (obviously not the crush he had on them for forever) it drove him insane. But now that they were officially together, it worried him even worse. Humans needed sleep! He can't stand how they look when they're dead tired. Plus, he's responsible for their wellbeing! Has been since day one! He doesn't blame them at all for keeping him up, but they do. He can't get them out of his mind. Although he thinks about them all the time in general.

So, he finally gets up, feeling the need to go to their room and check on them. And maaaaaybe convince them to let him share the bed tonight. For safety reasons, ya'know? Although he always feels a little guilty asking even as greed. He knows he's not the easiest to sleep next to. Of course, checking their room, he found it empty. He should've known.

He knows there's a few places they might've wandered to. So, he begins his search, poking his head into a few rooms as he looks around for them. Eventually, he catches a little flash of light under the common room doors. He grasps the handles and pulls the doors open as quietly as he can, although for someone like him, it's hard to be fully silent.

MC turns their head as soon as the doors open. They're simply sitting on the couch, legs crossed under them, flicking through tv channels with the sound all the way on mute. They settle the remote by them. "Hey," they frown. "Did I wake you up?"

"Couldn't even sleep in the first place," he sighed, shaking his head. "I should'a known you were up." He closed the doors behind him, approaching the human with one hand on his hip. "How come you never come get me, huh?" His voice has the tendency to come off as abrasive, especially when he's emotional. He caught his own tone and the way it made his human frown. He internally beat himself up, calming down, coming over to sit beside them on the couch. "You're not a bother, ya know," he assures them, pulling them into his arms, letting them rest against his chest. "Would it kill ya to depend on me sometimes?"

"Its not that, Mammon. I just know there's not much we can do about it. It's just something I have to deal with." They leaned against him, letting him hold them. He was so warm. They feel his lips press up against the top of their head, his legs trying to wrap around them like he can't ever get enough of their touch.

"Well, then we deal with it together, yeah?" He speaks softly, quietly, the rough growl to his voice completely gone. "Isn't that what people do when they love each other? If you can't sleep, I'll stay up with ya, so you're not alone."

Even if he can't help them, even if it feels useless, he'll do the thing he does best. He'll stay by their side no matter what. If they end up staying up all night watching movies, so be it. If they eventually both fall asleep cuddled up on the couch due to pure exhaustion? That's okay too.

Levi

He's a night owl anyway. There are plenty of nights where he doesn't get sleep just because he's gaming. He knows MC has a hard time sleeping, so he always assures them that at least they have a late-night buddy. Nights when they're in separate rooms, they message each other often. Of course, he adores talking to them, because he loves them after all, but he always smiles a little when they stop messaging him, because he knows that means they've fallen asleep. Although, there are nights like tonight when they keep replying, meaning that they were being denied their rest.

Eventually, it gets so late, it makes Levi nervous. He knows that MC is going to be exhausted tomorrow. So he pauses his games and seeks out his Henry. Although, he'll admit, it took him a while to find them. He checked all the main rooms! He wasn't expecting to finally find them in the house's bathroom. W-wait, it's not what you're thinking of!

They were fully clothed, sitting in the bathtub, playing a game on their phone that they downloaded together. They hadn't noticed him come in yet. He almost...felt guilty, watching them like this, but he couldn't help it. He smiles a little as he observes their focused face, the little ways they react to things in game. Wait, wait, wait, he's here for a different reason, focus! He makes himself known as he approaches them.

"Oh, you're awake," they smile at him. "I thought when you stopped responding to my messages, it meant you'd finally fallen asleep."

He shakes his head. "I- I was looking for you," he admitted. "You- you weren't in your room."

They quickly looked apologetic. "Sorry, I felt a bit restless. I guess I wandered around till I wound up here. I think it reminded me of being with you."

The words they say hit him like a critical attack, his heart melting, but of course, a little bit of envy stirred in his heart. "Then- then why didn't you come to my room instead? Is this tub so much nicer than mine?"

They appeared a bit surprised but then looked at him with soft eyes. "Like I said, I thought you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Why not?" He suddenly exclaimed a little, acting out in a little bit of boldness as he climbed into the tub with them, hovering over them with his hands pressed into the porcelain by their head. Although he got himself flustered, deciding to wrap their arms around them instead, resting his head against their chest. "You could- could come in whenever, and climb in next to me, just like this... Is my room not good enough? Isn't that the sort of thing normie couples do?"

"Levi, I never said that. I love you and your room." MC feels Levi's heart almost jolt as they say that. It doesn't matter how long they've been together now, it always flusters him.

"Then...let's go to my room," Levi insists.

He's hardly ever so confident, but his sin mixed with the anxiety towards the human he loves gets him to do amazing things. He wants to be the best partner MC can ever have, sweeping them off their feet like a character in a romance anime. More than that though, he just wants them to feel safe and rested...and he wants to be that haven for them...because they're his safe space too.

Satan

He often stays up rather late, reading books or planning pranks for Lucifer till the wee hours of the morning. Of course, now he can add worrying for his partner to his list of reasons. He knows they don't mean to keep him up with worry, but he can't help it. He's done his research on insomnia and he knows the type of toll it can take on a human body. Add that to his circus of a family, and it's a wonder MC can function at all.

He's also done his best to read and research ways to help a restless mind. He's made potions and teas and charms, found magical items and spells to help. Sometimes his experiments hinder more than help, so for the time being, he let's nature take it's course. But he knows that in doing so, MC probably can't rest at all.

At some point, he realizes he can't focus on the words of the pages of his books, so he puts it down. At this rate, he won't be able to relax either. So, he goes to find them, rubbing the back of his head in irritation when he can't seem to spot them. Eventually, he opens the library doors, a little surprised to see his adored human inside. He should've known.

They're sitting in one of the lounge chairs, a book in their lap, sleepy circles under their eyes. They lift their head to look at him, having just enough energy to smile when they spot him. "Still up?" They ask him.

"That's a funny question coming from you," he huffs, although the harshness of his comment is lessened by the color coming to his cheeks. Something about the way they look at him always seems to make him feel this way. Once his heart settles, he comes over to the chair, shaking his head at them. "I know you can't sleep, but you should still give your mind a break." Before they can speak, he takes the open book from their hands, keeping their placed saved with his thumb between the pages.

They quickly sigh and give him a little look. "I know, but I go insane just laying there. It's like torture."

His eyelashes flutter as his eyes glimmer with an idea. "How about we go with a happy-medium then?" He asks, taking their hand, giving it a squeeze, pulling them up from their seat and taking their place, before guiding them into his lap. He hears them huff in a spot of stubbornness before they rest against him, their head on his shoulder. "I'll read to you so you can rest your eyes." He brushes a thumb against their cheek. "If you fall asleep, I'll be here with you, but if not, let's enjoy this story together."

They both find comfort in each other's company. MC feels lulled by Satan's voice, and the mentioned demon finds his breathing slow with MC being so relaxed around him. Satan didn't account for the fact that he might fall asleep first, but he does. He never fully remembers just how calm his human makes him. If MC manages to fall asleep too, they rest together throughout the night. If MC still can't sleep, at least the torturous silence is gone, listening to the soft sounds of Satan's breath.

Asmo

He takes this more seriously than almost all his other brothers, which shocks everyone in the House. There are many easy jokes to be had about 'sleepless nights' while he's the Avatar of Lust, and while he does make a few passing remarks about it, that's not what he's focused on.

It doesn't matter if demons and angels don't need sleep quite like humans do, he knows how important sleep is even for beings like him! Taking care of his body is essential to his beauty! He loves to feel good in every sense of the word, and being groggy and exhausted and dizzy from lack of sleep is a horrible state to be in. He can't stand thinking that his beloved feels like that more often than not.

On nights like these when they sleep in separate rooms, he finds it hard to sleep. Yes, he's become rather addicted to the warmth of their body, but that's not the main problem. What if they're not sleeping again?! Oh, his poor darling, spending another day with exhausted dry eyes and a frazzled look about them... Before he realizes it, he's out of his own bed to at least check on them.

When he doesn't find them in their room at this hour, he knows they're restless... So, he searches for them, checking every nook and cranny of the house till he discovers them in the living room.

"Oh, hun," Asmo sighs in relief and a bit of sympathy as he eyes them essentially wandering around the room in circles.

They turn at his voice and smile faintly. "Asmo, what're you doing here? Couldn't sleep either?"

"I went to check on you, but you weren't in your room." There's a small pout to his lips as he comes over and immediately pecks a kiss to their cheek. The chill night air throughout the house has left their skin cold. He frowns at that.

"Sorry," the human apologizes, looking at the dark empty space of the living room. "I couldn't sleep and ended up wandering in here..." They suddenly smile a little brighter. "I guess I was thinking about the party you threw in here the other day."

The demon hums and wraps his arm around his love, swaying a little on their feet. "It was such a fun time! We all outdid ourselves so much we all fell asleep next to each other, even you."

"If only it were always that easy," they sigh.

Asmo's face falls slightly, but then lifts into a reassuring grin. "Come relax with me...even if you can't fall asleep, I know it will reinvigorate you a little. I can give you a massage if you'd like, or we can just snuggle till the morning! What do you say, darling?"

He might not know how to fully help, but he's an expert in self care. He'll pamper MC as much as he needs to to make them relaxed. Even if they can't sleep, he's determined to ensure they don't look or feel so drained...and he can't deny he loves their company.

Beel

He was up getting a late night snack, as you might imagine. And since the kitchen is so close to MC's room, he always feels like he has to check in on them. Just to be sure they're okay. Okay, and maybe to see their precious sleeping face, but mostly because of safety. He sleeps better at night knowing they're doing alright. Plus, since he knows the human has the tendency to have sleepless nights, he checks in on them to see if they're resting.

He frowns a bit when he finds their bedroom empty. He'd go find them after he grabbed the two of them some snacks. Although, his search was luckily cut short. The human was already in the kitchen, wandering aimlessly, chuckling at some of the empty shelves and irritated messages left on sticky-notes, obviously not in here for food.

"There you are," Beel smiled a bit.

They turned to look up at him with a smile. "I was wondering when you'd come down to get a snack," they explained.

That made Beel frown a bit. "Have you been in here long?"

"A little bit, yeah..." But the human came over to wrap their arms around him, assuring him that it was fine.

"You know you can always come get me, don't you? I don't like the thought of you waiting awake alone..." He rubs their back soothingly, wishing that he could just...crush their problems for them.

"I know, I know."

He scooped them up into his arms, holding them close. He loves hugging them so much, it's always so hard to let go. He always wants more. But for now, he'd pick them up and settle them in a seat or even on the kitchen counter even though he knows Lucifer hates that, moving around the kitchen to get snacks. "I'll find you something that might make you sleepy." He manages to control himself as he makes them some tea or hot chocolate, making him a large portion as well. He hands it to them and stands in front of them, rubbing their cheek before they drink. "I always find it easier to sleep with a full and warm stomach, maybe this will help."

"Thank you, Beel," the human grins as they drink, laughing lightly at Beel's thrilled noises as he downs his mug. "It's good."

"Very good. Everything always tastes better when I'm with you." His eyes seem to sparkle a little bit before he kisses their forehead. "Do you want to go back to your room or mine?"

He'll let them choose what they want before he picks them up and takes them to bed. He'll hold them close and keep them warm. And if they can't sleep, he'll keep bringing them snacks for them to both munch on so they feel better.

Belphie

Perhaps it's just a Sloth perk, but he can always tell when someone is asleep or awake. Especially if it's someone he cares about. Sure he likes his own sleep, but he likes making others get rest too. He sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes, almost irritated with the human for making him feel restless too, but he knows it's not their fault. He wishes they would come to him during these times though. He's Sloth, but more than that, he's their love, surely he can help them sleep whether he utilizes his Sin or not.

At least he doesn't have to hunt around the house for them. He has a feeling he knows where they are. It's where they almost always are when they can't sleep. The observatory.

When he gets there, he finds them on their back on the ground, staring up at the stars. He-- being the little brat that he is-- sneaks over until he pops up in front of them, making them jump. He gets them every time, you would think they'd learn by now. "Belphie..." They whine.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, although he only half-means it. He rests beside them, letting them rest his head on the pillow he always carries with him. "I could feel your restlessness from my room."

"Sorry," they sigh, an exhausted breath leaving their lungs.

He turns on his side, pulling them close, curling into them. He glances at them softly though his bangs. "Don't be, it's not your fault you have a silly brain."

The human huffs a little. "My brain's not silly."

"It's what's keeping you up, isn't it?" He teases lightly. He rubs their head, like he's trying to get their mind to calm down. His cheeky smile falls a bit as he looks a little more serious. "Why didn't you come get me tonight? You know I love to help you fall asleep."

The human opens their mouth and then closes it, looking away back up at the stars for a little bit. "It's because you get too grumpy when I wake you up."

The demon huffs and makes a buzzer sound. "Try again."

MC sighs and closes their eyes. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to try to function on my own this time...I can't depend on magic for the rest of my life. This isn't your problem to fix."

There's a silence that settles over the both of them for a while. Then he seems to tug on them tighter. They can feel his nose burrow into the back of their neck. "Maybe it's not my problem, but that doesn't mean I can't do what I want. And what I want is to have sweet dreams with you every night. I won't use my sin if you don't want me to, but you can still come get me, even if it's just to cuddle."

He'll make it sound like it's for totally selfish spoiled reasons, but deep inside he can't sleep comfortably anymore unless he knows MC is safe... He'll take them back to their room even if he has to drag them there. He'll tuck them in tightly and snuggle up next to them. He doesn't mean to use his Sin, but sleepiness comes more naturally with him around. Even if they can't fall fully asleep, Belphie can feel his soul settle a little more at ease even just hearing them breathe softer.

[tmntxthings]

Hey there! You already know I love love LOVE your writing. I never really have ideas to make requests but I feel like you’d really make this one special 🥺 Whenever you can get to it, I’d love a sort of Rise Leo x female insomniac reader type thing.

I’m an incredibly light and anxious sleeper and being woken up by the littlest thing at 3 AM like a phone notification or noise/talking right outside my door–or literally just not being able to stay asleep–and then not being able to fall back asleep no matter what despite being exhausted is the most frustrating thing… And when I say frustrating I really do sometimes mean like, tears in my eyes, pull my hair out, feeling the most untapped anger at a whole night of sleep being ruined by one lil thing, lol

I was wondering how you think Leo would help coax a restless sleeper back to a peaceful slumber with him? Ig it doesn’t hurt he’s such an insomniac too 😂

Ultimately however you want to do this is up to you of course! Thanks for inspiring a fellow writer 😄💚

Dreamscape

author’s note: i recently couldn’t fall asleep so this was pretty fun to write <3 i hope you enjoy

warnings: fluff, insomnia, crack, established relationship, unedited

—————————————————————————

And then, after sweeping her off of her feet, portaling us both into the lair, I’ll place her back down. Dip my totally unnecessary yet necessary sunglasses for heart fluttering effects and then pull back the curtain to my humble abode. Then-

“Whatcha writing?” Michelangelo was a tad too close and Leonardo had been so consumed in said writing that he hadn’t heard his little brother approach. “What writing?!” Leo squawked as he crumbled up the paper as fast as possible. He was up standing and leaning against his desk, desperately trying to seem nonchalant. Mikey gave him a once over, one brow bone raising.

“Okay you got me. I was journaling my thoughts like you suggested!” Leo spoke quietly, and lied smoothly. There was no way he was letting any of his brothers, yes even darling Angelo, know that he was planning a sleepover. No one could know. “Really?!” Mikey beamed, happy to hear his advice being followed. “Really really!” Leo cheesed, a smidge of guilt finding its way in as Mikey gave him a thumbs up and encouraged him to continue. “If you ever want to take it to the next step just let me know! We can talk about what you write down if you feel comfortable!!” With that Mikey departed, a skip in his step.

Leo counted down to five, then to ten just to be safe. And wouldn’t you know it at second seven Mikey peered his head through the curtains. “Yes?” Leo said, it was his turn to raise a brow bone. “Pizza later? We gotta do the rock-paper-scissors ritual to see who has to go pick it up.” Leo replied swiftly, “I’ll be there just uh- shoot me a text or something. I might be too concentrated on my writing again!~” with that Mikey gave a tiny salute and disappeared behind the curtain once more.

Another ten second countdown and Leo finally allowed himself to crash into his chair. “Too close…” he murmured to himself as he shook his head. His fist unfurled and a ball of paper revealed itself. He uncrumbled it as best he could, smoothing it out with his hand until the crinkles were bearable. “Now where was I?” Pencil in his three fingered hand, he tapped his chin with the eraser as he read over what was already written. For the life of him he couldn’t continue the thought and it frustrated him so much that the paper was crumbled and thrown into the trash bin next to his desk.

Screw it! He was better coming up with stuff on the fly anyways. What was the point in micromanaging like someone he knew when the unexpected was bound to happen. After tidying up his room, reading a comic or two, eating a slice or four from the pizza he didn’t have to go pick up (Leo losing? Hah unheard of!), he finally got the text he had been waiting all night for.

I think I’m ready! Portal in on the roof <3 -Y/n💙

Already there ;3 -LeontheGreatest

You had been in the middle of typing back a snarky reply when you saw a blue flash from your peripheral. You stopped typing and put your phone away as you turned to see him, in a grand pose of course. “Your portal awaits!” He smiled. “Well hiya Lee, nice to see you too, how was your day?” You mused as you strolled his way, being taken by complete surprise as he lifted you up, sleepover bag and all, bridal style. “Oh Y/n, we know each other too well for such pleasantries! But if I must, Hi beautiful~ how boring was your day without me?” Leo walked into the portal and the next second he was back in his room. Ack?! It was supposed to portal him right outside of his room!

He suppressed a groan, somewhat dismayed that he couldn’t do his grand reveal like he had thought up. “Just as you said, it dragged by! You can put me down now you goof!” You laughed, taking in his room for the first time in person. “Yeah I had a whole, outfit and grand entrance planned but tada! Welcome to my humble abode.” He gave you jazz hands. “Your portal entrance was grand enough” you smiled sweetly, he couldn’t let go of all the theatrics for even a moment!

He was giving you a detailed room tour, though you had to remind him he didn’t have to show you every single comic he had collected since mutation. The two of you settled onto his bed, talking more in depth about the day or anything else that crossed both your minds. The night carried on like usual, the only difference being that this sleepover was at his place instead of yours. Movie after movie, silly jokes, tiktok showcasing, shared snacks. It was perfect. Leo let out a yawn and a minute later you caught it too. “Should we call it a night?” He asked already reaching over to flick off the strung up lights. “We can try, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep just yet,” you sighed and Leo gave you a knowing nod.

He knew it took you quite some time to fall asleep, and then be able to stay that way was an even harder challenge. He could relate, he probably had a sleeping disorder with how irregular he passed out. “No harm in trying, come here,” he opened up his arms for you to snuggle up under the covers with him. Once situated he was pressing soft kisses into your temple, murmuring how happy he was that you came over, saying how pretty you were, he considered himself a lucky turtle. As sweet as he was being, it didn’t help your case with trying to sleep, you were a blushing mess, heart pounding at his sugary words.

You turned in his embrace, and he looked down into your eyes. “Leo!” You half whined, and he chuckled kissing your lips this time before saying, “Right right, sleep time!” His chin nuzzled the top of your head as you pressed a cheek into his plastron. It wasn’t complete silence since you were so close you could hear every breath he took, but the steady rhythm helped you relax and you slipped into a light sleep.

You woke up an hour later, surprised to have fallen asleep so quickly, but the astonishment was dashed when you realized quite quickly you weren’t falling back asleep. It was getting kind of stuffy pressed against Leo now so you tried to pull away without waking him. You stuck one leg out of the covers trying to cool down. You turned so you were lying on your back. Then you tried your stomach. Nothing was working and you felt time dragging on. The night had been perfect and why did your insomnia have to come and ruin it?!

You took in a deep breath, trying not to get too frustrated as you tried other remedies. Breathing in and out deeply. Letting your thoughts wander. Coming up with random scenarios. Trying to remember fuzzy dreams. Counting sheep for pete’s sake! Your breathing hitched as you looked over to Leo, you didn’t want to wake him, but maybe it was just better to go home. No! You shook your head and the hot tears started to fall. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

“Y/n?” Leo murmured, feeling the empty space where you had been cuddled next to him. You didn’t think you were ready to talk yet, in fact you were pretty certain you’d sob out his name. His eyes opened at your silence, and then he was quickly sitting up when he saw your body shake from quietly crying. “What’s wrong hermano?” His hands went out petting your hair and then rubbing those salty tears away. “Sorry Leo I’m just so frustrated,” you managed to get out. The tears didn’t seem like they were stopping despite his efforts.

He waited for you to explain, not wanting to assume. Leo hoped he hadn’t woken you somehow. “I was sleeping just fine but, n-now I can’t get back to sleep. I tried everything, I even took melatonin before coming here!” You blew out a breath. Utterly exhausted having gotten so worked up emotionally yet sleep still evaded you. “Lemme help, I got you to sleep before didn’t I?” Your eyes were big and glassy, the tears subsiding finally. You nodded and wondered what he would try, you really had tried everything!

“Do you wanna cuddle or is it too hot?” He asked gently, not wanting to crowd you since you had moved away. “It’s a little hot,” you confessed meekly, so instead of pulling you to him, Leo reached out his hand, finding yours and started to rub his thumb over the top soothingly. It felt nice, you closed your eyes wondering if this might work. But it didn’t stop there, Leo started to sing, he had a beautiful voice, you always thought it was quite funny he wanted to be the guitarist in the band with his brothers.

The words melted into him just humming. You gravitated just a tad closer to Leo, getting comfortable once more, his thumb still rubbing shapes into your skin. It didn’t happen instantly but you fell asleep and Leo couldn’t help his smile. Twice in one night, he was on a roll! Maybe he could be your new melatonin. His thumb spelled out, i-love-you before he finally drew his hand back. He hoped you would be able to sleep throughout the rest of the night, but even if you woke up again, or multiple times more, he’d help you go back to sleep. <3

[toomanybandstocare]

{By Your Side Tonight}

Program: As the 501st's support agent, you've come to grow fond of your boys. Even if they're reckless and obvious. You only just marked it up to be a part of their charm, and two members of the boys in blue enjoy pulling at your heartstrings. Always trying to stay one move ahead of them in your game, a night out to 79s has you kneeling before one of them after what should have been a fatal blaster shot.

Pairing: Arc Trooper Fives x GN! Reader

Side Pairing Ref: Jesse x OC! Embrey, Rex x GN! Reader -> tiny hints

Genre: Fluff, Teasing, Flirty Humor

Length: 3930w

Warnings: Flirting, Petname (Cy'are, Little One, Mesh'la), Blaster wound, Some swears

Counselor Note: So excited to be apart of @cloneficgiftexchange!! The lovely @miaowshacat requested a funny/serious situation for their gift. Hopefully, you enjoy this! My sense of humor is definitely flirty irl, so I know that's not typically what humor is considered.

Request Prompt: "Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out". "Oh, well if you don't like it".

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

Skyscrapers shoot pillars of faint illumination through the night sky, and speeder taillights leave trails of neon in their wake. As war rumbles across the galaxy, the blaring bass and sonic speakers from the surrounding clubs cause Coruscant's lower levels to vibrate. Overly excited club goers stumble and giggle amongst themselves on the walkways as wary eyes peer out from alleys.

Even on nights out, a heavy unease seeps into your bones once you step onto the landing platform. Your eyes narrow as you try to take everything in, but not even the bright signs help you see past the heavy rainfall tonight. 

“If you keep glowering like that, you’ll scare away anyone who might consider asking your sour ass for a dance,” Fives shoulders past you and throws a wink over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow the rowdy boys in blue closer to the pulsing music, “I’d be more worried about anyone seeing past your ego, if I were you. You do know that sweet words and drinks will only compensate for so much. Right, Fives?”.

Jesse howls in laughter, and Echo claps your shoulder. “Got you there, vod. For the so-called ‘people’s man’, you’ve been striking out lately,” Echo laughs. Each clone walks beside you with buzzing excitement, fitted with their new planetside outfits. Similar to their blacks, they all wear a tight, compression top with short sleeves with matching cargo pants. 

“Who’s side are you on, traitor,” Fives shouts back. With an unconcerned shrug, Fives’ face melts into a smile of soft admiration: “Maybe, I have my heart set on someone, and I don’t want to fuck it up”. 

Your breath hitches. For the faintest moment, you catch Fives’ eyes flickering to you. The rain splutters as it lands in the forming puddles by the line to 79s. A few stray away to kiss his cheek bone and trail down his glowing expression. They hang, frozen, on his jawline before they race down the column of his neck and find a home in the dip of his collarbone. Quick as the moment, the storm thickens, and Fives refocuses on his brothers leaving you with a racing heart.

“The side of reason, di’kut,” you cough as you shuffle closer to the entrance when the line moves. Knots twist and sit heavy in your stomach as your gaze shifts from one group of friends in the line across the walkway to a group of illegal speeders in the next landing bay. Pushing a deep breath through your lungs, you roll your shoulders. Even shifting your weight from side to side, you still feel restless surrounded by some many unfamiliar people.

Fives takes you in with a gentle look and holds your face, “Hey, look at me. Look at me, okay?” His soft voice rings clear from the cybernetic cacophony that makes your ears prick. You meet his honey colored eyes and feel your gaze soften. He leans in close to your ear, “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you. 79s is the safest club down here, and you have a small army of clones that’ll have your back. I’ll be by your side the whole night if you’d like”. 

Calloused fingertips carefully soothe your warm cheeks. Cool droplets of rain help tame the frenzied tingles burning your skin. Fives looks towards his brothers while carefully running his hands up and down your arms to help ease your nerves. While you think about his offer, you notice the coy looks and smiles directed at Fives over his shoulder. Pushing a heavy breath through your nose, you close your eyes and lean into his hold. Fives’s hand naturally falls to rest at your hip.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, it plummets into your stomach. Crushing the few butterflies who hoped to soar. “Well, I would hate to sour your night,” you shoot him a teasing smile and pat his chest moving up in line. Your lips purse as you hand over your ID to the bouncer, and the thumping stereo only further irritates you.

While you wait for the rest of the group to hand over their IDs, a warm hand rests between your shoulder blades. Although very similar to the ones that held you moments ago, you know it belongs to another. Slightly larger and holds you with a firm tenderness that you allow yourself to ease into. “Safe to assume this game’s continuing tonight then?,” Rex asks as he shuffles closer to you, allowing Hardcase and Dogma to pass over their credentials.

“Care to elaborate on what game you’re referring to, Captain?” you ask with a raised brow. Your blood sears through your veins as Rex meets your smoldering gaze with a knowing glint in his eye.

“There is not a single person who doesn’t see the two of you playing cat and mouse,” Rex lowly explains, “I’m getting quite bored watching you play around, little one”.

His hand trails up and across your shoulder line to rest on your upper arm, tucking you into his side. The only relief from the flush of warmth washing over you is the fact that you feel Rex’s heart hammering against his chest almost as fast as your own.

“And what would you have me do, hm? Or would you like some more attention instead? All you have to do is ask,” you ponder, “Besides, it’s all good fun. Did you ever think that I might like being the one who’s chased? This little game isn’t as straightforward as you may think”.

He shakes his head with a small laugh and guides you through the entryway into the club. “Then I’ll leave you to your fun tonight. You’ll have to teach me the rules to your heart next time, mesh’la,” Rex’s voice darkens as he parts away from you with a lingering touch. The fleeting feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing along your side makes you dizzy.

Bodies twist and bend around each other to the DJ’s beat. Flashing lights twirl and surround you in a warm glow as you step down into the ever fluctuating crowd. The boys in blue start to holler and skirt past you to get a jumpstart on their night. Kix pauses by you, “If you need anything, just grab one of us, alright? Have some fun tonight, too”. Before you can even spare a smile, he disappears into the mass of bodies.

You push and shove your way through the wave of patrons swarming the entrance to try to make it to the bar. Sweaty bodies graze up against you trying to get to their next destination while the deafening bass pounds your chest with every beat. Glimpses of the illuminated shelves of drinks and mixers being tossed in the air can be seen in the small openings between passing bodies as you squeeze through the last line of people.

Your chest constricts as more people seem to push you from behind and others shuffle you sideways. Reaching out with one arm, you huff before pushing back against the wave of people around you. With everyone moving in different directions at once, you’re jostled in the thick of it. When you break free of the rushing crowd’s pull, you tumble forward from its hold and it into the welcoming arms of another.

“Thought you said you didn’t want me by your side tonight,” Fives’ warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. He pulls back with his signature smirk and leads you with a hand resting on the small of your back to a pair of open bar stools.

You shoot him a playful glare as you settle onto your seat, “Don’t put words in my mouth, love”. You rest your head on your fist and kick him gently underneath the bar. Once the pet name slips past your lips and registers in his mind, Fives’ breath hitches. “Afterall, you were the one who called me sour when I’m only ever sweet to you boys,” you wink at him before signaling over the service droid.

“Now hold on a minute,” Fives leans in on his forearm with a smile pulling at his lips, “You’re sweet to us? Who else is graced by your kindness and charm? Thought I was the only man for you, cy’are”. Tearing his playful gaze away from you, Fives orders for the two of you. In a moment, two vibrant mocktails are set between your seats.

“Wouldn’t the people’s man like to know,” you drawl out and take a sip of your drink. A refreshing mixture of juices and ice blend together in your mouth. “Now, back to the boys-- how do you think the night will end for them?” you ask and do a sweep of the club with your eyes.

Most of the boys have managed to find partners to join them on the dance floor. Jesse is tucked away in a secluded corner with his partner, Embrey. The two men have only just started seeing each other, but you also catch Jesse smiling at his data pad more often now. Hardcase is tangled with the wolfpack in one of the booths as they continue their usual boisterous recollections of the latest events. Rex joins Wolffe and Cody at the unofficial CO booth on the raised level as they keep a careful eye on their legions.

“Jesse won’t be coming back to the barracks with us. That civvie’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” Fives pulls himself closer to your side and slides an arm to rest on the back of your stool.

You hum in agreement, “I somehow think that’s not hard to accomplish with you boys. You’re all practically a pack of tooka kittens — from pulling at each other's ears to pushing each other to try to get someone’s attention”. You smile at him over the rim of your drink, and the look of utter betrayal on Fives’ face sends you into a flurry of laughter. 

“Oh, don’t leave yourself out of that either,” Fives wags a finger at you, “Nearly bit my head off when you found out I didn’t get medcare after Teth only to keep me close when we were all playing sabacc. You’re just as bad as us when it comes to attention, and I would reckon that you’re even worse”. 

As Fives points out your shared similarities, you can’t help but lean into him more. Nearly tangled together, to the point where anyone could rightfully question if the pair of you are just friends, you rest a hand on his chest. You play with the collar of his shirt with your fingertips. The rise and fall of his breath upticks beneath your palm, and you find comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“What’s the matter, love?” You tilt your head, “Cat got your tongue?”

As you pull your gaze away from where your fingers fiddle with Fives’ collar, your heart drops when you realize his attention lays elsewhere. “Now what could be more captivating than our conversation,” you weakly laugh. Twisting your head, you immediately notice the handsome Nautolan man eying Fives from his table. His eyes shift from your friend and widen when he meets your gaze. Even as your breath freezes, lungs constrict, want to push Fives’ arm away -- you instead send the man a soft smile and nod your head.

Turning away with slightly slumped shoulders, you put on a brave face and pat Fives’ arm. “I’ll make sure to tell Echo you won’t be returning to the barracks tonight as well,” you say as you rise from the stool. With a swift swoop of your arm, you grab your drink and quickly finish it off.

“Cy’are, come on. Sit back down. I said I’d stay by your side tonight, which means I’m not going anywhere you aren’t,” Fives pleads. One hand grasps your forearm and weakly attempts to guide you back to the stool.

Even with his warm expression inviting you to rejoin him, his hand feels cold against your skin.

Even with the teasing tip of his smirk pulling you back to his side, his silence rings clear.

Even though Fives is the person you dream of waking up next to in bed each morning, Fives’ eyes wander everywhere except for the one person who stands by his side.

“Go have fun, Fives. I’m going to search for some of mine own,” you reassure him and slide his hand away. You shoot him a wink as you walk past him and blend into the wave of patrons.

Once again flooded with the overwhelming proximity of strangers, frustration flames through your blood. The sticky atmosphere chokes you as your heart pounds against its cage. The corners of your vision blur and darken while you move solely focused on the entrance. Stinging static drowns out the annoyed protests and looped music tracks from your hearing. The moment you break free from the club’s hold, you stride into the crisp night air that envelops you in a thick downpour of rain. 

Not sparing a glance behind you, you continue to move as far away from the clone club. Yet with every step, something nips at the back of your neck. Not even an hour ago, you wanted to leave and return for a night in the barracks. Now you follow the near-empty streets as they twist and wind and lead you further away from your friends and into an awaiting pit of darkness. Finally able to blink away the rain just long enough to catch sight of a nearby storefront awning, you dart for cover and shiver against the cool durasteel building.

Heavy breaths wrack your body as you watch the trickles of rain plummet from the awning. 

Maybe it was time to put a stop to your little game and come clean?

The occasional speeder joins the rushing soundscape that drowns out your comlink’s alert. 

You heart wrenches at the thought of cutting off both men.

Faint shapes of bodies not even glancing at your hiding place come in and out of focus from the downpour. 

Then again, neither seemed too interested in making the next move.

Until one shadow stops. 

You shake your head to clear your mind from memories of their shared looks, and you push away your thoughts.

Its shape growing and defining itself against the curtain of rain that had shielded you.

Steadying your breath, you carefully stand. “Not another step,” you demand. In the moment the shadow pauses, you slip off your comlink and send an alert to the shared channel of the 501st. Hopefully, the darkness is your ally this time.

“Wouldn’t you want some company?,” a husky voice calls out, “This isn’t the type of place to be wandering around by yourself — especially in this weather.”

They take a step closer.

A faint alert chirps from your comlink.

“My friends are on their way,” you coolly reply as thunderous footsteps and shouts roar against the brewing storm.

The shadow’s head tilts, but not in contemplation. 

“That’s what we were hoping for,” the shadow snarls.

Shivers shudder down your spine in realization.

Just as you launch yourself from your spot, blaster bolts strike through the night sky like lightning. No longer concerned about the shadow who slipped into the darkness, you run towards the echoign command. Clenching your fists, you slam your feet against the rain soaked platform.

“Fives,” you shout.

Blaster bolts illuminate the walkway and reveal silhouettes struggling against one another.

“You picked the wrong person to go after, ge’hutuun,” one of your boys grunts.

Rain droplets pelt down on you and leave stinging splotches on your skin.

Bringing your comlink up to your mouth, you grit your teeth against the howling wind. “This is 501st support agent to base, do you copy? We need back up. This is an emergency, do you copy,” you try to speak clearly against the growing panic bubbling inside you.

A single scream silences the street’s symphony.

“Fives,” someone calls out.

“Fives?” you breathe out.

It feels like the rain weighs down on you and locks you in place. Each footstep harder to take than the last. As the 501st comes into view, tears blur your vision as you hastily look each man over.

Rex and Jesse stand just off to the side, speaking to a holograph of Commander Fox with apprehensive expressions. Hardcase, Dogma, and Tup surround the dazed assailants while pacing every few steps before returning. 

Echo and Kix kneel on the ground beside a body just ahead of you.

“Fives?” you croak.

Echo raises his head and motions you over to join them. His serious gaze pulls you from your cemented spot and into a run.

Skidding to a stop, you sink to your knees next to Fives’ head. Your eyes flicker from his pained expression to his heaving chest to the blaster graze just above his hip. The outfit he was so excited to wear out for the first time now smolders around blistering skin.

“This wasn’t the show I was hoping to put on for you, cy’are,” Fives hoarsely laughs.

A watery chuckle breaks your chapped lips, “Well, you’re quite the showstopper. You can put on an actual show for me another time. But, please stop getting shot, it stresses me out”.

Fives lets out a booming laugh that’s quickly cut off by a groan, “Oh, well if you don’t like it, I’ll just have to ask the Sith to stop the war for me. Sure they’ll be real understanding -”. His sentence cuts off when he sucks in a sharp breath.

You look over to Kix who has a less than amused expression at the two of you. One hand barely applying pressure to Fives’ wound.

“Calm down, you’re not going to die,” Kix rolls his eyes and slightly shoves Fives’s side, “You have second degree burns, di’kut. Just need some bacta patches, and you’ll be fine with minor scarring”.

“That should have been a direct hit though,” you murmur, looking at the wound. You face Fives once again, yet this time he won’t meet your eyes. Resting your hand on his jaw, you make him meet your pointed gaze. A slow warmth grows underneath your touch.

“His clothing is made up of an experimental light-weight, ballistic material. It’s a prototype for casual bulletproof clothing,” Kix explains and pulls  your attention back to him. He tugs at the singed edge of Fives’ shirt. The cloth barely moves from the strain. “Did -- did he not tell you why we came out tonight?” Kix asks you with an incredulous laugh.

“He actually went through with his dumb plan. Kriffsake, this should be good,” Echo snickers and shuffles away from you.

“It’s bulletproof?” you shriek at him.

Fives quickly throws his hands up and scoots away from you to push himself up into a crouching position. “Not completely! That’s why we had to test it out,” he defends.

His words still you. Narrowing your eyes, you watch as Fives pales under your sharp gaze. “Test it?” your voice comes out a low growl.

Fives sends a weak glare over your shoulder, “Who’s side are you on, traitor?”

Echo and Kix burst into laughter, barely spitting out coherent words. “The side of reason, di’kut,” they reply in unison.

“You were the one who volunteered to be the mark,” Kix notes.

“‘Just you watch, I’ll put an end to this little game of ours tonight,’” Echo say in a poor imitation of his twin, “‘By the end of the night, I will confess my undying love for my cy’are”.

“I did not say that,” Fives barks back.

“I am so grateful that shot didn’t kill you,” you confess while you drop your head in relief. You try to conceal the snickers that threaten to slip past your lips.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Fives perk up. “Does that mean I can take you out on a date?” He asks.

“No,” you say. When his posture slumps once more, you slowly raise your head and meet his disappointed gaze. “No, I’d like to take you out myself,” your voice drips with false sweetness.

“Well, who am I to say no to a lovely date with my cy’are,” Fives leans closer to you with a small smile spreading across his face.

“I’m so grateful that bulletproof material kept you alive just long enough for me to take you out myself,” your voice growls in playful anger. 

Fives’ eyes widen, and he pushes off the ground and sprints away from you. “Cy’are, I’m sorry,” he laughs and shouts over his shoulder.

“Too late. Get back here, di’kut,” you yell and launch after him.

Footsteps slosh and slap against the platform while both your laughter mixes with the comforting hum of the evening. As you near Fives, your gazes meet as he turns to check on you with an adoring expression. Reaching out with one hand, your face lights up when he turns completely to face you. Arms open waiting for you to join him by his side once more.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you press yourself close to him. His hands rest comfortably on your hips, and Fives ducks his head in the crook of your neck. The gentle scratches as you play with the edge of hair bring small hums from his mouth that softly tickle your skin. 

“I’m still going to murder you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

Fives hums, and his hold tightens around you. “Just wait until after the date. I’m looking forward to it, and it would be my life’s regret if I never actually had the honor to spend the night by your side”.

The soft glow from flickering neon signs wraps around your bodies as the rainstorm eases to a gentle lull. Neither of you pay attention as the Coruscant Guard passes. Some send Fives a celebratory salute while others clap your shoulder with a chuckle. As the night life fades to distant hum, Fives straightens himself and pulls you under his arm to lead you back to the group. Soft smiles and shouts of relief greet the two of you, now that the game has come to an end. 

At least for tonight. 

One pair of eyes linger on you for a moment longer than they should have. “Rex, we’re good to head out now. Gave Fox the report and analysis already,” Jesse states.

Rex pulls his gaze from where you stand tucked comfortably in his vod’s hold, and he nods at Jesse. “Then I think it’s time we head back to the barracks and get some rest. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves absorbed in another game by the time we deploy again,” Rex shakes his head with a small laugh.

Jesse looks at him with an impressed, yet shocked, expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping out on us and have your eye on someone,” he says with a light elbow jab to Rex’s side.

With a knowing look in his eye, Rex motions for Jesse to make his way over to the awaiting transport. Once everyone from the 501st and guard are accounted for, Rex allows himself to relax against the wall. Letting his head fall to one side, he steals one more glance and smiles at the sight of you dozing off on his brother’s shoulder. Rex raises his gaze and meets Fives’ eyes, and they subtly nod at each other.

The night may be over, but the game is still in play.

[remyfire]

For the kinkfic thing. power imbalance and breeding for uh. Charbeej plz. :-D

(prompts now closed) (Okay so this is a lot of breeding kink, a little power imbalance, and though it is charbeej on the page, both beejhawk and charbeejhawk wiggled their way into it, and I really hope that's okay!! It's also 6.4k I'm very sorry—)

"Aaaaaaall right, Winchester," BJ trills as he sweeps into the Swamp and sets the lock behind him. Now that necessary arrangements have been made for privacy, he's got a certain spring in his step, a song in both his heart and his dick. "Here we go. You ready?"

Charles looks up suspiciously from his desk where he's cross-referencing something in a book to the notes he's taking. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean."

BJ drops the tent flaps in one quick rush, then strides over to slap his hands on Charles's shoulders. "That's never stopped you from offering your opinion before, so why start now?" When Charles tries to look back at his work, BJ cradles his cheek and steers him right back around. "You can do that later."

"For heaven's sake." Along with a particularly overexaggerated roll of his eyes, Charles's lips rise up in a snarl that does nothing more than bring tingles of anticipation down BJ's spine. "Hunnicutt, are you sure you haven't taken a tumble recently? Banged your forehead on something? It's quite a large target." He makes a show of shrewdly considering it, all the while ignoring how BJ's beginning to smirk. "Can't imagine any other reason why you appear to be mistaking me with Pierce."

"I'm not making a mistake," BJ murmurs in a low, sweetly rotten tone.

"He's the one you, ah, sully around with, you know." Charles goes on as though he didn't hear BJ say a word. "Little whimsical pet practically slobbering for the chance to do your bidding."

As BJ tightens his grip around Charles's soft jaw until he feels the bones stabbing into his fingertips, Charles finally goes silent and flicks his gaze back up. "Charles," BJ breathes. "Put your pen down. And take your pants off."

Clack. The pen's rolling across the desk before BJ even realizes that Charles opened his hand. They share a long, silent stare where he gets to watch how Charles's brow furrows, the quick analyses occurring behind his eyes.

Honestly, BJ gets it. He wasn't wrong, bringing up Hawkeye like that. Usually BJ and Hawk are rolling around together in a cot, trying to get a rise out of Charles across the room, and in the few circumstances where they've actually seen a response—the heat on the back of his neck or the faint wiggling of his restless leg—they've slipped off the mattress like sirens, finding their way to him, meeting his sharp-edged banter with teasing words of their own. It's just an extension of the rhythm they've all ended up in, the games they like to play. Inevitably they all end with Hawkeye as a ruined mess of some kind while BJ and Charles study each other, still panting as they recover from their own release.

This is the way of things nowadays. Since BJ and Hawk are finally over the first nervous hurdles of trying not to fuck things up, BJ gets to take what he wants from an extremely enthusiastic Hawkeye practically whenever he chooses to do so. Charles, meanwhile, has to be all but forcibly dragged in on a casual basis regardless of the fact that he so clearly desires their time. There are times when BJ doesn't think it's even the sex that Charles craves, though the man's certainly never complained about an orgasm. Maybe it's the easy possession. Hawk will drop into BJ's lap, or BJ will pet through Hawk's hair and scratch his scalp during a normal conversation, or Hawk will mold himself around BJ's back and grope him with a hungry groan without so much as a hello. They're open to each other. They're always around to offer support, love, comfort, and passion. Charles seems to need to wait until he's about to burst before he so much as asks if one of them will have a serious conversation with him.

BJ doesn't know if he'd call it jealousy. Just a longing that appears to humiliate Charles. No wonder he needs to be surrounded and caught before he'll let all of his muscles unclench.

Charles finally takes a deep breath. "Should I presume Pierce will be arriving shortly?"

"No," BJ murmurs. "I don't see you going for your pants."

"I don't see a reason why I should," Charles counters.

"How about because I'm gonna fuck you?" BJ leans close and bumps their noses together. "Or how about because I said so?"

No matter what Charles tries to hide from them, he can't conceal that flush of his. His clean, pure, pretty blue blood does so love to betray him in moments like this.

Despite himself, BJ feels heat rush straight into his cock.

"Y'know, I've noticed something about you," BJ murmurs. He shrugs on a warmer tone like a robe, watches how Charles instantly goes for his belt. "You're really not a joiner, huh?"

"Difficult to find one's way into anything when there's not an inch of room," Charles counters. He doesn't sound hurt, exactly, or even sullen, but there's an edge in his voice all the same, and BJ files it away.

BJ shrugs, pursing his lips. "I mean, you could ask for somebody to move over, couldn't you?"

Charles finally breaks free from his grasp. He pushes his chair back with a loud scrape as he takes care of his trousers, then folds them perfectly with not a wrinkle to be seen. With his attention so focused on the task, he either doesn't think to or chooses not to reply.

"I don't know. It's just interesting. Sometimes I'll look over and you're holding yourself back by a thread." BJ chuckles like this is a meaningless conversation. Charles doesn't have to see the keen, smug expression he wants to wear. Not yet. "Like last week, y'know? Hawk and I are in my bunk. I've practically got his ankles behind his ears. He's ready to cry, he wants it so bad. Begging for it. Begging to be bred." Just like that, BJ flicks his gaze up, watches how Charles freezes. Yeah. There you are. BJ finds Charles's hip with one broad hand. As he slips his fingertips under the hem of his shirt, Charles drapes his trousers over the back of his desk chair, then grabs on tightly. "You don't have to be shy about it. I know you've got your thing. You need a son and all that, don't you?"

"I don't see why that's any of your business," Charles mutters, but unfortunately for him, he's starting to tap his foot rapidly on the ground.

"Aw, simmer down, Chuck." BJ moves into him, rests his chin on his shoulder, and lets his fingers continue to wander around to his front. "It's just some fun, yeah? Not that serious."

"Maybe not t—" Charles cuts off in a shiver as BJ shapes his palm right over his round belly. This is where it gets interesting. Hawkeye's easy by his own admission. He'll drop to his knees with little more than a look. But Charles turns his head, face so close that it's blurry, and speaks quite softly, one even tone. "Are you making a mockery of my duty?"

BJ chews on his bottom lip and considers the game here. "No," he finally says with a spreading smile. "C'mon, I wouldn't do that. I'm fetishizing it."

"Y— Excuse me?" Charles's brows shoot toward the sky. He gapes for a few moments before he scoffs. "Only you would take such a noble act as continuing one's bloodline and turn it into nothing but fodder for your perverse entertainment," he snaps.

Uh-huh. BJ takes in how red the apples of his cheeks are. "Not only me. Hawkeye too."

"Of course," he drawls, flicking his gaze away.

"So here's what I figure. You and me both know what kind of guy Hawkeye is." BJ considers further still. He could demean their bunkie, call him a slut—nine times out of ten, that gets Hawk dripping, so it's not like he'd be insulting him—but Hawkeye's not at the middle of this. The only thing he's doing is making sure nobody's gonna come bother the Swamp. No, right now he's just a segue, and one that BJ's happy to deploy. "So if there's a quiet little sector of your brain that gets turned on thinking about getting somebody in the family way, you already understand that all you've gotta do is walk across the tent and tell me to scooch, and I'll be happy to let you breed him. Joining of forces, right? With two of us at it, it's gotta take."

Charles inhales deeply, only just barely audible. He hasn't tried to move away. And when BJ begins thumbing a slow circle through the coarse hairs on his belly, all he does is breathe a touch faster.

"But yeah, no, you're right, you wouldn't do that. Not since the mumps. It stresses you out too much to think you might not be able to get the job done anymore."

"Hunnicutt, I'm warning you," Charles mutters.

When BJ rocks his hips forward, Charles freezes, fingers kneading the back of the chair. BJ grinds just the once more, simply making absolutely sure that Charles can feel how hard he is. That he knows this isn't a dig. Only a game. One that he's very enthusiastic about participating in.

He likes doing things like this, shifting into almost a variant of himself. BJ Hunnicutt—intensely devoted father, holding himself together by braided strings of hope that he'll make it home before Erin's childhood has passed him by—everyone knows who that is. But this is like shrugging on a coat, or perhaps shrugging it off instead. He can feel his voice getting a little more musical, a touch sharper, can find the sincere ache inside of himself and coax out its shadow. For him, it's a harmless perversion that lets him take a step backward when the walls are closing in. But he rather wonders if there's subversion that's about to rise from under his fingertips.

"Then I realized that it doesn't relax that stress at all, playing at getting Hawk pregnant." As he touches his lips to Charles's ear, he pulls him back so there's not a millimeter between them. "You'd rather somebody else do all the work of making sure the Winchester heir takes."

BJ can practically hear Charles's brain explode into a million simultaneous thoughts. He gets it. He knows a little something about shoving shit down so it can't even bleed through the cracks. There's something massive under all that noise that's aching to get out. BJ's just enough of a curious bastard to wonder what might happen if it does.

"Get these off too." BJ drags his hand down and tugs at the waistband of Charles's underwear. "Then lie in the bed."

He doesn't wait to see if Charles is going to argue or obey, just walks back to his side of the Swamp to unlock his truck and shove it open. He finds the tub of lubricant right away; as long as the trunk's locked, it's not as though he needs to hide it any more than that. In fact, he needs it easily accessible for those nights when Hawkeye has him ripping his own clothes off to have him as soon as possible. But BJ takes his time, moving items here and there, making noise, then stalling further still by unlacing his boots, acting as though his own blood's not boiling with a certain hunger of his own. It's tender with Hawk, playing this game. Charles is different.

Behind him, a cot creaks, and BJ takes a long, deep breath to steady himself. He snatches up the tub and impulsively snags a condom packet, practically slams the trunk shut, and stands before he kicks his boots off. When he turns back around, he drinks in the sight of Charles in his cot, under his blanket, up on his elbows so the impersonal fabric is at rest around his waist. His trousers may be neatly draped over the back of his chair, but both his boxers and, unrequested, his shirt are in a pile on the floor right where BJ had left him. He's waiting. Waiting for BJ. Wanting him to call the shots.

It's enough to make a man want to tip away from his logical mind, find himself somewhere feral instead.

BJ's made the particulars of how he inhabits his body into an art form. He shot up too tall too fast, filled out his shoulders before any of the other kids in his class. It was vital that he learn to move like water, fluid and flowing, never threatening. It softens him. But right now he thinks about some of the other jocks in his fraternity house, how they would cut through a room in such a way to have people scrambling to give them space. The tough guys. He centers his mind on it, and only then does he saunter toward Charles's cot. He doesn't have to look at Charles's face to know he's suddenly rougher at the edges, maybe even a little intimidating, but it's gratifying all the same, watching him takes in BJ from head to toe while the slight lift beneath the blanket becomes more and more prominent with each passing second.

BJ comes to a stop right by him, and as much as he wants to dive in headfirst, Hawkeye has goaded and begged for just enough things that BJ had never even conceptualized could arouse a person to a point where he speaks quietly all the same. "Is there anything you wanna talk about?"

Charles opens his mouth, closes it, then shifts his gaze to the back corner. "Hunnicutt, I-I realize this might strain you to the point of throwing out your back, but I would prefer..." He digs up fistfuls of his blanket. "You may say whatever it is that you'd like—as long as you don't laugh at me."

BJ notes it. He's not sure what exactly compels him to reach for one of Charles's hands, coax it to open, then lift it to his lips, but as BJ leaves a kiss on his knuckles, goosebumps lift all the way down his bunkie's bare arm. "Anything at all, huh?"

After one brief moment of thought, Charles nods.

He smiles. "Well. Lucky for you, I have a lot to say."

"Ahaha," Charles drawls out. "Will wonders never cease?" Unfortunately for him, his mockery nowadays is as sweet as a caress.

BJ's far better at reading the things Hawkeye craves without a lot of explanation, but though he has a good line of clues to follow here, he still takes his steps more carefully than he would through a minefield. He backs away, holds up the condom between two fingers, waits for Charles's eyes to focus on it, then tosses it carelessly behind his desk. Charles's punched-out, ragged huff shifts to a groan at the last possible moment and leaves a checkmark by the next item on BJ's mental list. He turns to hide his smirk as he snags the pillow from the spare cot. It's lumpy, which is why none of them have replaced their own pillow with it, but it'll serve a decent enough purpose tonight.

For a man who craves silence, Charles seems antsy now that BJ isn't talking. He shifts and wiggles, adjusting his weight, while BJ crosses back to his side, then glances along the blanket. He considers. Decides to pull it away himself rather than make a request. Charles's thick cock is slick at the tip, flushed all over, and it gently curves toward his belly while BJ shoves the rough cover into a pile at the foot of the cot.

"Lift your hips." Though BJ says the words as quietly as he can, they still sound as loud as a gunshot to him. They even make Charles flinch. But all the same, Charles obeys, and BJ tucks the pillow under them, then rests his hand on one of his thick thighs with a low hum. At first, he simply rubs as though to soothe him. But then he rises higher and higher with each pass until he's feeling the breadth of Charles's ample hips. It seems to settle in what he's doing just then, given how the cock near his hand twitches.

He can't make either of them wait anymore.

He leaves the tub on Charles's end table as he comes to his feet, then strips down as quickly as he can. Though he half-expects Charles to tease him for this too, he doesn't. Maybe he's just as relieved to see BJ overwhelmed by the need to fuck him. BJ keeps his eyes on Charles's face, catches how he stares at his arms, his stomach, and finally resting on his long, hard cock. Fascinated, BJ reaches high overhead, coming up on his tiptoes in a full-body stretch, and Charles whips his head around so quickly that he's shocked it doesn't fall off.

Somehow that kind of response is just as gratifying, flustering him like that. Usually it's Hawk who ends up in Charles's lap or on his knees for him while BJ sits behind, murmurs filth in his ear or coaxes Hawk to take him faster, deeper. He rarely gets his hands on Charles and he's never on display. Not unless Charles is watching them from his side of the room while they lose themselves in one another.

He needs to get started. It's not bragging to say that he's a lot to take. BJ pops open the tub so he can slather his fingers in lubricant, then gets to work.

For a couple of minutes, he's silent, studying how Charles's body responds—if he's moving too slowly, too quickly. There's a moment where Charles digs his nails into his own thighs and BJ thinks it might be time to start distracting him. "You're tight," he observes. "Don't usually do it this way around?"

"Don't usually do it," Charles corrects him in a rough voice. "Before you two, at least. You make it...rather difficult to resist."

"Mm. Any particular reason why not?" BJ thumbs over the back of one of his hands, silently coaxing him to loosen up.

"Well, it certainly wouldn't be appropriate to risk..."

As he trails off, BJ slowly smirks, focusing simply on how his fingers stretch him out little by little. It really does all come back to this, huh? The pressure to produce an heir, the pressure to make sure he doesn't produce the wrong one, the forced isolation such a thing causes. "But there were always other boys, right? C'mon, Charles, I went to an Ivy League too. I know how you prep school fellas are."

Charles's muscles flutter around his fingers, one moment clenching almost painfully tight, the next relaxing so suddenly that he sinks in to the next knuckle before he planned to. "Hunnicutt, this is yet another piece of information that I don't owe you." The however hovers in the air. BJ skims his gaze up and locks eyes with him while he pulls back, works in another finger. "Fo-ooooo-or the record..." The word warbles when BJ scissors his digits open, but he admirably avoids laughing at him, if he does say so himself. "...Mother and Father were...concerned about Honoria and me from the beginning. I should say we did not in-spiiire confidence—do you know how thick your fingers are?" Charles demands.

BJ tips his head to the side, not blinking. "Are you complaining?"

Charles wrinkles his nose, then flops back on his pillow and stares at the ceiling as he speaks in a rush. "I cannot say for sure regarding Honoria's own schooling, but I had reason to believe that my parents asked for the administration to keep a close watch on my relationships with my fellow students."

After a thoughtful moment, BJ nods. There are two paths he could take with this. One would coax Charles into a deeper vulnerability, maybe even open up an extremely strange heart-to-heart between two of the most unlikely men to experience such a thing. The other, though... BJ licks his lips. "Not much chance to experiment, then."

"Decidedly not," Charles murmurs.

The moment BJ rests his other hand on Charles's belly, he feels him stop breathing. "Dodged a bullet there too, then. Or a bun."

Charles doesn't reply. But he relaxes a little more, and BJ is confident that he's ready for him, experienced or not. He slips his fingers out slowly, and when Charles clenches around the emptiness, he fights not to push his cock inside of him right that instant.

BJ turns his attention to gathering just a touch more lube on his clean fingers so he can slick himself up, moving at a glacial pace, silently inviting Charles to watch. "Well. It's a good thing I'm here now, huh?" He drops his voice to that melodic tone with sharper edges. As he puts one knee between Charles's thighs, it lets him be far, far above him, casting a shadow from the nearest light. "Clever of you, really. You got all the way to the other side of the ocean where they don't have a clue what you're getting up to. Who you're getting up to it with. No one's watching, not tonight. There's just Hawkeye somewhere out there, keeping people entertained, making sure they won't come anywhere near the Swamp."

Charles clears his throat. "I suppose that is rather fortuitous, isn't it?" he asks unsteadily, still not looking away from how BJ's teasing himself.

"It really is. That's the beauty of it, huh?" BJ asks. "You don't have to worry about if these work anymore." He palms Charles's balls, gently massaging them just to watch how he shudders and fights to hold back his sounds. "'Cuz you're not gonna be the one knocking somebody up. At the end of the day, you're still a Winchester. And that means you're fucking great breeding stock."

There it is. Charles's eyes widen so far, they've gotta hurt. It's rare that he lets himself be this visibly stunned, especially in front of BJ, of all people, and it tastes sweet and spiced on his tongue, fuels him to push onward.

"Not what your parents planned for, I figure." BJ shrugs and pulls a caricature of sympathy on like a mask, dripping just the edge of condescension into his tone. "I mean, they've got you in line to play husband for, what, a Vanderbilt? A Rockefeller? And here you are with your legs spread for a Hunnicutt from California. But they've got it all wrong." As BJ looms over him, he takes Charles by the jaw again and watches with a thrill as his mouth falls open. "You rich types, you're lucky to get an heir at all. You never mix it up, you know? Never bring in any new blood. It's just the same tired gene pool, the same old story, and it's gonna make all your fancy names die out one day.

"See..." BJ leans closer, thumbs over his bottom lip, watches a rare sheen begin to form on Charles's distinguished brow. "...it's guys like me who make it happen. Filthy little rats with names nobody'll ever remember." And as he carefully shifts his hips, he aligns their cocks—lets his own obscure Charles's more modest length—but he makes very sure to let the weight of his sack drag along Charles's sensitive base, and when the man beneath him sucks in a shaky breath, BJ knows he has him, hook, line, and sinker. "I'm not even gonna have to try to breed you. The second I'm filling you up, it's a done deal, darling. Yeah, you'll get your baby. But there's not a ballroom in all of Boston that'll let her debut. So the way I see it, you're about to be the luckiest girl around." BJ can feel his smirk go toothy, his eyes sparking, as he settles the full weight of his broad body over Charles's soft and round figure. "I'm about to give you your ticket out of there."

It must hit like a truck with the way that Charles suddenly groans and writhes under him, his mouth closing around BJ's thumb so he can press his teeth into it just at the edge of pain. Yeah, no, that's exactly what BJ thought. Maybe he likes the money, the staff, all those perks, but they both know that high society's got more rules tacked on than the whole goddamn Army. From what BJ's heard, one Winchester has already found her a few doorways out of the hellscape. Maybe Charles needs a little more time to make his own—but maybe helping him burn off a little of that tension won't hurt either.

"Shh, shh, it's all right." He pushes his thumb in further and doesn't try to hide his deep moan when Charles gives it the tiniest suck. It seems like it might've been instinctive—Charles freezes and blinks—but as BJ gives another quick thrust, he flushes and sucks harder. "I'll take care of everything. You've got one job: just lay back and take my cock." As Charles thrashes again with a small, pitiful sound, BJ sits back so he can align himself with his target. "No, c'mon, sweetheart, spread them like I know you want to." He's a little rougher than he means to be when he sinks his fingers into Charles's thighs and pushes them open, but the sight of Charles dripping arousal onto his stomach only kicks up his excitement another notch. "You don't need to play cute with me. You've been waiting for some no-good fella to knock you up for years now."

"H-Hunnicutt, y-you..." Though he tries his best, Charles only stammers wordlessly after that, the reverberations alternating between pinched and trembling.

He tracks it, then, how Charles is stabbing his nails back into his body. That won't do at all. This is a game, not a punishment. Before he can second guess the urge, BJ redirects Charles's legs toward his chest instead. "Here, gimme your hands. Need you to hold your legs out of the way for me, all right?" Though he's not sure Charles is even tracking specifically what he's saying, those soft and lovely fingers are offered to him all the same, and BJ leans down, kisses both palms, then guides him to pull his knees back as far as they can comfortably go. It's the doctor in BJ that makes him skim down his hamstrings, just a quick feel to make sure he isn't straining his biceps femoris or semitendinosus on either side. Only when he's satisfied does he cup the base of his own cock.

"That's it," he coos. Honestly, he expects Charles to clamp down when he feels BJ's tip rubbing against his hole—rejecting his body one last time before giving in—but he doesn't. No, he relaxes further, like he's trying to suck him inside. "God..." Charles wants him. Really wants him.

He has to take a breath and shake the shock out of his head before he's too overwhelmed by the fresh surge of desire.

With a groan, BJ begins to ease carefully in. "C'mon, let me in... Juuuust like that... Fuck, Winchester." The surname comes first, tastes filthy on his tongue. There isn't a universe in existence where this should be happening, yet here they are, Charles gasping and staring up at him with wild eyes, BJ fighting not to bite a hole through his lip as he represses the urge to sheath himself with one thrust. "Oh, you needed this, didn't you? You just need somebody...to take it all away."

Confusion drifts across Charles's face like a cloud. BJ watches it carefully, prepared to pull back. But miraculously it passes by, and in its wake, Charles furrows his brow and arches experimentally, taking him in deeper. He groans and squeezes around BJ's length for the first time, a fiery pulse of ecstasy that has BJ doubling over and catching himself on Charles's shoulders. "Hunnicutt, I-I want..." They lock eyes, searing blue on blue. "Don't... Don't take it easy on me. Do you understand?"

He's hit with such a spike of arousal that he curls tighter with a long, shivering groan. "You don't wanna be a delicate flower, Winchester?" BJ teases breathily.

"Not on your life," Charles grits out.

BJ grins as he catches his gaze one more time. "You're right. I haven't forgotten. You're good..." He bucks a little deeper. "...hardy..." Another thrust, further still. "...breeding stock." One last push crushes his pelvis against Charles's ass, and BJ hums in appreciation as he cups his cheeks in both hands and gives them a squeeze. He's stretched obscenely around BJ's cock, but all the same, he fits him just right. No straining, no swelling that's suggesting any kind of damage from rough treatment.

He makes a mental note to check him over again once he's finished fucking the hell out of him.

Since he needs to make sure they both have a moment to really adjust, BJ looks over the rest of his body, the gorgeous shape of him, soft folds here, a more solid swell there. When he gets caught on Charles's pectorals, he figures why not, then grabs one none too gently. "Mm, these are gonna be so fucking pretty. Nice and big. They get more sensitive as they start filling up, you know that?" As he thumbs over his nipple, an almost startled whine come out of Charles as it hardens, and BJ grins. "Maybe I'll come by and check on them every day. See how they're growing. And don't worry if they start feeling sore." It's curiosity that has BJ pinching and rolling it between his fingers, but the way Charles white-knuckles the edge of his cot while he gasps tells a beautifully evocative story all the same. "A nice, hot mouth'll take care of that. And I'll make plenty of time for you."

"If you don't...fuck me..." The words sound as though Charles is fighting against God himself to find them. "Hunnicutt, I-I will not appreciate it if you draw this out much longer."

For the first time, BJ's taken aback. Has he misread all of this? Sure, the man underneath him is hard enough that he's dripping yet another bead onto the slick pool on his stomach, but that doesn't mean a damn thing, does it? Just physiological. BJ plants a hand right by Charles's head and leans down. "You done playing, Charles?" he asks softly as though there's an audience to hear and make Charles feel humiliated.

Charles wrinkles his brow one more time. "Not on your life, Beej." But try as he might, the way he murmurs that nickname only makes BJ want to kiss him. "If you—" He cuts off abruptly as he glances over the shape of BJ. There's a clear appreciative gleam in his eyes as he skims over his shoulders, his arms, and BJ bites his bottom lip with a smile and fights not to flex for him. He fought hard to find a little humility while he was in medical school, but his jock side never lost it. "I am merely suggesting...that I'd rather you have me while I am still able to enjoy it."

BJ blinks a few times. Glances between them. Charles's cock is curved far enough that it is, in fact, sticking to his own stomach now.

"You did need it," BJ murmurs with a certain degree of stunned delight. When he meets his gaze now, he feels like a scamp, like he's getting away with breaking all the rules somehow, having everything he was never supposed to. "Okay. Okay, yeah, Winchester. You want me to make it good for you before I knock you up?" He sits tall on his knees to the sound of Charles's first murmuring moan, pulls out and pushes back inside with experimental force to charm out the second one. "I guess I can do that."

It doesn't take long for BJ to realize that Charles, whether he's taken it in the ass before or not, is in fact not kidding when he said that he doesn't want to be treated gently. Only a few thrusts later, Charles is reaching for BJ's hips and yanking at him. It's enthralling. He can't remember the last time someone this unexpected needed BJ to ruin them.

"Mmm..." BJ lets his eyes fall shut and his lips part as he gets a little lost in the rawness of this kind of sex. With Hawk, sure, they get a little primal sometimes, but it's always tinged with a startling amount of intimacy as though they're trading souls for a short while, trusting the other to put them back where they started rather than letting them be lost at sea. But this is different. It's not casual, exactly—Charles is far more than a colleague, most certainly a friend, and ultimately is someone who BJ can't really imagine a future away from forever. But it's less overwhelming than it ever has been with Peggy, with Hawkeye. Somehow there's less to worry about here.

It's a vital moment of connection. He wouldn't want to play like this with anyone in camp but the two people who live in this very tent. But it's also just...oddly reaffirming of their friendship. A little fun that's a lot closer to the chest than it would be if it didn't mean anything.

As BJ brings himself back into the present, out of the lush waves of physical pleasure and the sparking playfulness that overlays it, he puts his hands on Charles's thighs and lets his bunkie's fall away. "You feel so fucking good, you know that?" BJ purrs. "You were made for this. Made to take cock and be bred. No wonder you're such a pampered thing."

"Ohh..." Charles's flush has spread all the way down his neck and into his chest, a lovely bloom to match the heat right under BJ's skin.

He gets lost just then in watching how Charles's body moves under him. "Gorgeous," he breathes. He's so—

"For God's sake, Hunnicutt," Charles gasps out, stabilizing himself with a hand on the bar above his pillow, rolling his hips down to meet him in the middle with a sense of desperation. "Harder, harder, don't let up now."

The commands are the closest thing he thinks he'll ever get to begging from Charles, and that fact undoes him, practically blisters his brain. "Fuck, Winchester..." He quickly renegotiates the space, shoving the pillow a little further up with his knee, then opening him up as wide as he can with that firm grip on his thighs. His jaw clenches. As he rises to the call with a punishing pace, his muscles begin to burn in a pain that's sweeter than any sprint has ever given him. "You're taking me so deep." When he flicks his eyes up, he zeroes in on how Charles is bouncing with the force of his thrusts, the way that his mouth's gone slack. "You feel it, doncha?" BJ bites his bottom lip, pounds him so his balls are slapping against his skin. "Feel how much I've got, mmnh, to pump you full of? Think you've got room inside you for every fucking drop?"

Charles lets out an almost frantic whine, his hand snapping between them to find his cock and strip it, matching BJ's rhythm.

"Yeah, that's it, that's it," BJ coos. "Oh, you can't wait for it, huh? No, you've gotta milk me dry when you come, is that it?"

Charles's noises border on overwhelm, and if this was any other person, any other situation, BJ would pull back and check in, but this is what he needs, it's what both of them need, practically ripping the skin off their bones with how hard they take this.

BJ stares unblinkingly, painfully, right at Charles's hand, finding growls breaking free from his own chest as a visceral way to stay focused, not slow down. It pays off. The moment he thinks his body's about to cramp up, Charles gasps, throws his head back, and comes with a shocked cry.

"Fuck, that's it. Fuck, Charles." It's intoxicating somehow, watching this man make himself absolutely filthy, jet after jet streaking his body. He's not even sure where the words that bubble up are coming from. "That's right, waste it, you don't need it, I'll take care of everything, darling, you just... Nnh, fuck!" He didn't plan it, not even for the illusion of what they're playing at, but as he explodes inside of him, BJ buries his cock as deep as he can go, even grabs his hips in a bruising hold so he can push him into the tightest ball possible. He's absolutely shameless, grunting out raw, animalistic sounds as he ruts against his ass.

And then he does feel the twinge in his leg, and just like that, down he collapses.

"Hunnicutt!" Charles bellows at the top of his lungs. "You—" He tries to push BJ away, then trembles from head to toe and goes limp instead.

"Just gimme a sec." BJ fights to catch his breath. While he fumbles behind himself to find the back of his thigh and massage his hamstrings, it takes him a moment to realize Charles is still shivering. He's buried his face in BJ's neck and, what's more, he's the one rutting right there against BJ's abdomen. He chuckles. But when Charles stiffens, BJ's quick to murmur. "Y'know, that's a hell of a compliment, what you're doing right now. That was really something, wasn't it?"

Little by little, the tension in Charles's body melts away one last time. "It was...quite educational."

BJ rolls his eyes. A ringing endorsement.

"Perhaps we might..."

It feels like he might've gotten away with not cramping up. BJ hums contently as he comes up on his elbows and looks down at Charles with a sated smile. "Might what?"

Charles clears his throat. He tentatively meets BJ's eyes, then looks away immediately. "You did say that Pierce is...nearby, did you not?"

Realization comes in like a fresh, spring breeze. BJ's eyebrows raise as he reaches between them and rests his palm on Charles's sticky belly. "Y'know, I haven't fucked him yet today. He hasn't come in at least twenty-four hours." When Charles trembles once more, BJ's grin spreads wide enough to hurt. "Mmm, Winchester...you're right. It really would be a shame to leave a job half-done."

[sapphireginger]

Chasing a Memory

Summary:

Derek had bothered with a quick shower but only spent a few minutes after that to tug on clothes, grab essentials and pile into his car. Nothing else mattered to him than finding who needed him and why.

AO3 Link

Derek sped towards the city limits not knowing exactly why but consumed by the overwhelming urge to be somewhere. Someone needed him and that was a bone deep revelation but every time he had tried to focus on exactly who it was, he got lightheaded and the knowledge would escape him. He spent three days chasing his tail and it was time for him to take drastic measures. He had picked up the phone and made the call.

“Nephew? Well my my, what a surprise this is.”

“Believe me I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t of utmost importance.”

“I take it that seeking the status of your favorite uncle’s wellbeing is not your reason?”

“You’re my only uncle. So, not even close but hey you’re still kicking. So, that’s lovely.”

“For all you know I went back to the dirt as often as you check in.”

“Peter! I’m not interested in this right now. I need you to meet me.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

The call hadn’t lasted long but it was long enough for Derek to feel slight regret for the entire predicament he found himself in and he had tried to talk himself out of it many times. It had taken a full five days before he wore down enough to consider it and that was when Derek realized that if he felt so strongly about this, then calling his uncle was the obvious next step. That meant it must be serious and had to be taken seriously.

He wouldn’t put up with any baiting or tolerate any teasing nor entertain his uncle’s antics for even a millisecond. This was something clearly evidenced on his face based on the fact that one look made his uncle snap his mouth closed before he could utter something that he realized would result in a tussle.

Derek had bothered with a quick shower but only spent a few minutes after that to tug on clothes, grab essentials and pile into his car. Nothing else mattered to him than finding who needed him and why.

Peter was unusually quiet as if the state his nephew was in was evidence enough that something was definitely wrong but first they needed to get to the root of the situation to fully understand what they were dealing with.

After offering Derek a cup of tea which Derek accepted graciously albeit with hesitancy, Peter felt it was safe to proceed yet still to do so with caution. “So, Derek? Tell me everything.”

Derek took a sip of the tea and felt himself settle but only slightly. “Something is clawing me up inside. It’s nothing like when my wolf is restless although it is restless. There’s more to it than that. I have this overwhelming urge that something is wrong and someone needs…me.”

Peter watched his nephew with assessing eyes. “Describe the feeling.”

“Well it’s like my heart is pounding but I’m just sitting there and I’m terrified but there was a freaking song I love playing on the speakers. It’s like there are shadows even when the sun is blinding and it’s like I’m cold and I never get cold but what really gets me is the all consuming belief that I’m alone and awash with utter despair.”

Peter was tense as he recalled hearing of things like this before but he had not expected to ever deal with it personally nor for any who shared his blood to experience it. Still, he shoved aside any qualms about helping when he saw the shattered look on his nephew’s face. “I’m going to help you but answer me one question first, Derek, okay?”

Derek gave a nod, keeping his gaze on his uncle though his eyes seemed glazed over slightly.

“Whatever has happened is not your fault. You know that, correct?” he asked, almost certain Derek would argue that it was, in fact, his fault and that would mean a delay. He only hoped that whoever needed Derek would be able to hold on long enough for Derek to lose the belief that he was somehow responsible but this time his nephew surprised him.

“Realizing that this person is in trouble and that their feelings match ones I’ve felt in exact detail many times in my life makes me think there’s a possibility it’s my fault but I won’t know until I find them,” he stated before setting the cup down on the coffee table and resting his head in his hands. “If only I could latch onto their face or their name.”

Peter tilted his head. “What do you mean by that?”

Derek sighed. “I get this inkling of who it is but when I try to focus on it, I get lightheaded and the knowledge fades to the far corners of my mind. Then it’s completely unreachable. I just need to fucking know because someone’s in danger. Someone is hurting and I—” He choked up. “I need to know who they are and I need to know why this is happening to them and to me!” he ground out, his chest rising and falling faster and faster.

Peter’s wolf growled as he moved closer to place a comforting hand on Derek’s arm. Derek got a distinct feeling that his uncle was doing one of two things. He was either humoring him or he knew something and was going to help Derek.

“I know, pup and I’m going to help you. I think I have a pretty good idea of what is happening.”

Derek perked up and looked at his uncle. “You do?” His tone was full of hope and trust.

Peter figured the least he could do was be open with the guy but he had to refrain for just a little longer. There were two very important details he still needed to figure out. Details that may not have seemed crucial but if provided would change everything.

They decided to take the night to regroup and then when the sun had just barely brightened the sky, Derek sat in a wooden chair, straddling it with his claws digging into the wood.

“Are you ready, nephew?” Peter asked as he lined his claws up with the back of Derek’s neck.

The alpha grit his teeth and with a snarl said, “Just do it!”

Peter’s claws sank into the tan column and both men gasped as they were thrown into memories long forgotten by the mind but never by the heart.

FLASH

Pale skin with moles and amber eyes like melted gold and whiskey.

FLASH

A blue jeep older than its owner but as reliable as the boy himself.

FLASH

Paralyzed, sinking down, down, down and then a tug and a strength guiding him up, up, up, inhaling sharply as they break the surface. How?

FLASH

Death, both unnecessary and at his own hands, and a firm but gentle grip on his shoulder, a touch the alpha leaned into and took comfort in the scent of the one grounding him.

FLASH

Fear, plain in the expression on the boy’s face, ivory skin even paler as a yell to ‘Get down!’ erupted from the wolf’s throat, and he listened, trusting the wolf, allowing the wolf to face the feral alpha.

FLASH

A closed door up against which the wolf shoved the sarcastic teen, but thoughts of violence were far from his mind which was instead consumed with the thoughts of how it might have felt to kiss those perfect pink lips, even more tempting when a pink tongue swiped over them to wet them.

FLASH

Derek roared as Peter pulled his bloody claws out of the wolf’s neck and then everything was silent.

After a few minutes had passed, Peter spoke softly. “That must be Stiles.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered in agreement and a sense of awe. Then, guilt socked him in the gut. How could he have forgotten Stiles, HIS Stiles? How could he have forgotten his mate?!

“We will fix this, nephew. I promise you that.”

Derek nodded, swallowing thickly. “Good. He’s waiting for me and being the smart little shit that he is, he’s using the mate bond to bring me to him.”

Peter gave a feral and sharp grin. “Please tell me that I get to murder someone?”

With an equally terrifyingly sharp and feral grin, Derek stood. “Definitely. Anyone and everyone who had anything to do with my mate’s disappearance and the meddling with our memories, will die and I don’t care if you choose to bathe in their blood. So long as my mate is safe and in my arms alive by the end of it, that’s all I care about.”

The two wolves smirked, their eyes glowing in the dark as they descended the loft stairs later that night. Their fangs glinted in the moonlight and silent as shadows, on the wings of death they rode to deal swift justice on those who harmed Stiles Genim Hale, Alpha Mate, Nemeta Guardian and the boy who ran with wolves.

[melsie-sims]

Eze woke up feeling restless, one of the telltale signs of a full moon coming up. He got out of bed without waking Kallie, got dressed and started to run. Running in the woods always made him feel a better, if only for a little while.

He was heading for the beach — his usual destination — when he caught a very specific scent mixing with the dead grass. He slowed to a walk, sniffing the air occasionally, until he finally laid eyes on her: the new werewolf in the settlement.

She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice him coming. She startled, her eyes going wide, and snarled angrily at him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eze raised his hands up and stopped in his tracks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. This is… usually where I come whenever I’m feeling, well,” he shrugged. “You know.” 

“I—I can leave, I didn’t m—mean to… uh…” she stammered, making herself as small as possible. "I didn't realize this was your territory." She looked around frantically.

“It’s really okay. It’s a free kingdom. You’re allowed to go wherever you want. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m—” 

“Eze,” Danica said in a small voice. "I've, uh, I've heard about you."

Eze sighed and decided to try something else.

"It's been years and I still can't get over this feeling," he chuckled, trying to keep his voice easygoing and non-threatening. "That ache deep in your bones right before a full moon... that need to just... run as far away as possible..."

Danica shook her head. She didn't want to hear any of it. She didn't need to be reminded... “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you.”

Eze nodded, trying to understand where this hostility was coming from. He’d never spoken to her before in his life, and yet she looked at him as if he'd hurt her in the worst way…

He tried not to take it personally. Maybe she just hated werewolves.

He used to hate them too, once, especially the first few moons after he was bitten...

“Well, if you change your mind," he shrugged. "Especially tonight, it's gonna be a really cold one. I’ve been through a few transformations here now... so if you want, I’m more than happy to be there with you.”

Danica shook her head and turned around, facing the ocean. Eze took that as his cue to leave her well enough alone.

[tbnrpotato]

Our Own Choices

Chapter 13

When we reach back to the Anaxes base, I go to the medbay and get my hand fixed up. Medical droid replaces the shattered bone inside with metal and my hand's good as new. Echo's doing good as well. He's recovering from what damage he took on Skako Minor. 

So Echo has a plan about getting onto a Separatist Dreadnought and into Trench's comm vault so that he can feed Trench strategies that we already know and let the Republic retake Anaxes. I've been hanging out with the batch for a while, and I actually feel like I fit in with them. I don't get weird looks for being different.

Tech's fixing the ship while I show Hunter and Wrecker how I manage to fit 20 knives into my wrist compartment. Wrecker looks shocked, Hunter raises an eyebrow, looking slightly impressed. Then I see Tech trying to get a piece of metal loose from the engine, and I throw a knife at it, hitting the piece of metal with the hilt of the knife, and the metal piece falls to the ground, along with my knife. I head over to pick up my knife and receive a "That was unnecessary" from Tech. I smirk as I throw my knife up in the air and catch it.

Echo, Rex and General Skywalker come over just as Tech finishes the repairs.

"Tech, is everything ready?" Hunter asks.

"Yep Sarge, we are ready," Tech replies. "Still not sure how we are gonna land on that ship."

"Don't worry, Echo says he's got a plan," Rex says, putting a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"That makes me feel so much better," Tech replies, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"What do you mean by that?" Rex and I ask at the same time, slightly annoyed.

"To be blunt, his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie."

Good point.

"Yea. Well I know. Now get moving," Rex orders.

We walk up the ship, and I'm standing next to Crosshair and Hunter, Tech's piloting, and Wrecker's slightly restless.

"Please tell me we are blowing something up," he says, turning to face us.

"Sorry Wrecker, this is strictly stealth," General Skywalker replies.

I like that word.

Wrecker groans. "I hate that word."

Oh cmon Wrecker I thought we were getting along here

"Echo, you're up," General Skywalker says and Echo plugs his mechanical arm into the scomp link. "As soon as I plug in, I'll send a signal to the command ship."

"What type of signal are you gonna send?" Hunter asks. "Nothing that'll give us away, right?"

"As far as the droids are concerned, we're just gonna be another one of their shuttles coming in for a landing," Echo replies.

"And the regs think we take risks," Hunter says as he and Crosshair give a sideways glance at each other.

We fly for a short while, past some of the Separatist ships stationed above Anaxes.

"Sending the signal...now."

Echo I swear if you give us away I will fucking waterboard you and then carve your eyes out.

"Roger roger, Shuttle TC-159. You may approach and land." A battle droid's voice is heard over throughout the ship.

Wow looks like I don't get to torture Echo today. How sad.

Wait tf is my brain thinking rn stfu brain

Wrecker groans. "I'd still rather blow it up."

"I have a feeling you'll get your chance," Tech says.

Really hope he doesn't.

We fly past the fleet of Separatist ships and up to the Dreadnought, flying under it. The ship turns upside-down, much to my discomfort as I land head-first onto Rex's chest, and we're now on the underside of the Dreadnought.

As I stand up on the ceiling of the ship, rubbing my head, I ask, "Okay so how the fuck are we getting from the damn underside of this thing INTO it?"

The door at the bottom of the ship opens and so does the one in the Dreadnought. The ladder in the floor extends and we climb in.

I ready my pistol and knife, in case there are any clanker patrols nearby. Luckily for us, there aren't any.

I help Echo up and we walk through the corridors cautiously, with General Skywalker leading the front and Crosshair and I guarding our flank, walking backwards, on alert in case any clankers show up.

Echo, Tech , Rex and General Skywalker enter the comm vault, while Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair and I guard the door.

"So uh how's it usually like on missions without us regs?" I ask, not expecting much of a response from Crosshair. 

"Wild," Crosshair says as Hunter walks into the comm vault to check on Echo and the others. I raise an eyebrow at him, although he can't see it from under my helmet.

"Yeah, our last mission was with those Yalbec males, and they tried to eat us after I cut off the queen's stinger," Wrecker says.

"Why? They jealous that you get that Yalbec pussy and they don't?" I ask, smirking slightly.

Wrecker side-eyes Crosshair, and Crosshair replies, "Yea, I guess so."

I grin under my helmet, holding back a laugh, trying to stay focused.

Echo's taking a while, and some clankers have started to come through the corridor. Crosshair goes to take care of some of them and I follow him.

I take cover at the side of the entrance to the corridor, shooting at the B2 super battle droids with my pistol, throwing my knife at one of them and hitting it in the head. There's about 16 of them, and Crosshair gets more kills than me, which sucks.

Wrecker joins us slightly late, and by then we've almost taken out all of them. As I throw another knife at the last one, I wait to see if there are any more droids before running to go pick up my knives. 

Crosshair, Wrecker and I lead the way through the corridors, shooting droids the moment we see them, littering the corridors with bodies of broken battle droids.

Wrecker runs ahead, and when he turns the corner, some battle droids start firing at him, and he takes cover around the corner. Crosshair and I start shooting at the droids in front of us, Rex behind us doing the same, and Hunter and Tech are taking care of the remaining droids at the back.

Then, Wrecker goes to absolutely destroy the battle droids with his bare hands, and I kinda feel bad for them as I look left and right, scanning the area for more droids as I hear the terrified screams of the battle droids and the crashing of metal against the walls.

"It's all clear!" I hear him shout, and we move out from the corner, Rex half-carrying Echo.

No time to ask what happened to Echo, if Rex is carrying him, he shouldn't be dead.

Some more battle droids come from the back, and Tech alerts us to them. "More droids."

"Go. I'll buy you some time," Crosshair says, throwing up a deflector puck in his hands just to look badass, and proceeds to do an epic shot where he just throws it at the battle droid's chest before shooting it in the head, then waiting for the precise moment to fire another shot at the deflector puck which bounces off the ceiling and at all 3 battle droids' heads. 

I just stand there, frozen for a moment before walking off with the others.

"We'll meet you at the infiltration point," Rex tells Crosshair.

Wrecker groans. "He's gonna try and top me. You watch."

"And me," I say in an annoyed tone.

We start half-walking half-running through the corridors, and we reach the infiltration point.

Tech looks through his visor. "I'm picking up dozens of droids on my sensors, all heading this way."

"Hope you're not waiting on me," General Skywalker says as he runs to our position.

Wow I didn't even notice he was gone I think I literally forgot he existed.

"Now all we're missing is Crosshair," Hunter says.

Right on cue, Crosshair comes running through the corridors to our position, throwing deflector pucks literally everywhere, and stops in front of us, turning backwards and aiming his rifle, using his right shoulder to support it.

"You miss me?" 

No.

"How touching."

Then he aims at the deflector puck as the droids come marching through the hallway and he fires.

The blaster bolt deflects off the first puck and then to the second and then to like the next 30, hitting all the droids in the side, and Wrecker and I just stand there gaping at what just became the most badass shot I've ever seen.

"THAT STILL ONLY COUNTS AS ONE!" I protest.

"Relax Wrecker," Hunter says as he nudges Wrecker in the shoulder. "You'll top him next time."

No he won't.

And then Crosshair just comes up to us just to say "No he won't" to Wrecker's face and now I'm trying my best not to laugh again. I'm quite sure Crosshair has the biggest smirk ever under that helmet right now.

Wrecker groans.

We climb down the ladder to get back into the ship and fly off.

"I've got a present for you, Wrecker," General Skywalker hands Wrecker what looks like a detonator with a green button.

"Oh, seriously? I get to blow it up? The whole kriffing thing?" Wrecker sounds excited as he takes the detonator from General Skywalker's hand, and Crosshair and I watch.

"This..." Wrecker wipes a probably happy tear from his eye. "Is the happiest day of my life."

He presses the button and I can hear all the ships behind us going kaboom as we fly back down to Anaxes.

When we land on Anaxes, we get praised by General Windu, and General Kenobi says we've got some medals coming our way.

I take off my helmet.

"Thank you, General," Rex says as he starts to walk off.

As Echo starts to walk away, and batch and I stay behind.

"You coming?" Echo asks.

"Not really our thing," Tech replies.

"Accolades," Crosshair clarifies.

"Yea, we're just in it for the thrill," Wrecker says.

"You sure it's your thing?" Hunter asks, the question directed at both of us.

Echo looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your paths are different," Hunter says. "Just like ours." He motions towards the batch. Echo looks down. "If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us."

I...don't fit in with the 501st. Or any of the other regs. And I think Rex knows that. Echo knows that. 99 did. And so did...

Don't say his name. Don't say his name.

As the batch turn around and walk up to their ship, I'm standing beside Echo as Rex walks up to us. "Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside." He pats Echo on the shoulder. "Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

I glance at Rex. "Does that apply to me?"

Rex sighs. "Yes, ad'ika. It does." He turns around and walks away. 

He's...he's letting me...what-

I thought he would-

Nevermind. Don't worry about that right now.

Echo and I look at each other before walking slowly up to the batch, and I see Rex turning back to look at us. Echo salutes him, and then I do the same, with the batch following.

"Goodbye, ad'ika," he mouths to me.

"Goodbye, buir," I mouth back. He smiles, and so do I. 

And then Echo, the batch and I turn around and walk into their-well now it's our ship, and we fly off.

On the ship, I sit on the floor, making myself comfortable, spinning my knife, scanning the surroundings of our ship. When I finally see the toilet sign, I sigh in relief.

Thank god.

I go into the toilet to take a piss, until I realize that there's something very wrong.

"GUYS WHY IS THERE ONLY A DAMN URINAL IN HERE WHERE'S THE MOTHERFUCKING TOILET BOWL?!" 

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hello! 👋🏻 can I pls request 🦀 👑 MIRELURK QUEEN and either “you can hold my hand, if you want.” or “you remembered?” for Boone? Why did you get me so invested in slapping his big bald head 😩 thank you!!! 💕🥳

Oooooh yes, anything with Boone is lovely, but this is just 👌👏

Please, his bald head is almost as slappable as Deacon's, if he wasn't wearing that darn beret all the time.

Lol, but anyway, I hope you like this one! <3

The mattress creaked as you felt your partner shift beside you again, feeling his eyes on your form as he turned his head to face you, before-- just as abruptly-- turning away once more.

A sigh sounded from Boone's side of the bed, and you swear, you could almost feel the incessant pounding of his restless heart through the cushion of the bed below.

You couldn't quite pin down your own difficulty finding sleep this night. Perhaps it was the newness of this all, of being with Boone in this way, after so long of simply being travel partners. Maybe it was the stuffiness of this little motel room, maybe the howling of the hot desert wind outside as the landscape grew dark, maybe the thin sheets were too starchy to be comfortable, maybe it was your partner's tossing and turning beside you, his own restlessness translating into yours. That though, that sleeplessness he wrestled with every night only got worse as the two of you got better together, as your relationship progressed, you could feel the anxiety swirling and building within him.

His huffs of breath, like there was never enough oxygen in the room to satisfy him, his jittering leg and drumming fingers, the way he couldn't look away from you for more than a handful of minutes at a time... The glaring presence of his strained nerves was undeniable.

As was the reason for it.

"Boone?" Your voice broke through the dense air of the small room.

"Hm?"

He didn't shift to look at you as you turned your head to face him, just stared, unmoving, up at the off-white popcorn ceiling.

"I was thinking... maybe you could hold my hand, if you want. If you, you know, if you think it will help."

His pillow rustled as Boone turned to you, even in the darkness, you could make out the way his brows creased curiously.

"What?"

"Well, just... You keep looking over, not being able to sleep. I thought, you know, if you knew I was here, if you were touching me, maybe then you wouldn't have to keep rolling over to check on me. You'd just know that I'm still here with you."

You could hear the soft chirp of crickets outside, another gust of wind, and you felt Boone thinking, turning over your offer in that troubled head of his.

"You don't have to, baby." You offered softly, "I just... I want to try and help. I know this isn't... you know. Easy for you, so..."

You looked back to the ceiling yourself, as you trailed off. A heat that was unrelated to the warmth of the room touched your cheeks as you closed your eyes once more, attempting to shut out the reality of this... failed interaction with your partner.

Sleep was beginning to tug at the blanket of your consciousness as Boone's word echoed softly in the near-silence.

"Okay." He whispered, and not a moment later, his warm hand was wrapping around yours, searching briefly for the proper way to hold it comfortably in his as he scooted a few inches closer to you.

You felt his quickened pulse through his touch as he grasped firmly, almost too firmly, to your hand. You hoped, through this modest contact, he could feel your stillness, that you could quell the storm raging in his mind, the fight that never ends behind his eyelids, the fear that was settled deep in his bones.

It was meager, but it was what you could do, for now; and for Boone, in this moment of calmness that was so unfamiliar that he felt as though he was lying in a stranger's body, well, what you could do, that was enough.

[galaxysodapopdraws]

Ok so, I had this fanfic thing for my sonic genesis au that’s been buzzing around in my head for a good long while and finally decided to actually type it up. I don’t really have a good title for it but I’m just gonna call it “Fatherhood” for now. This takes place five years after eggman’s first attack and just two weeks after Nigel has returned from the Zone of Silence.

This isn’t really supposed to have good grammar or anything grand just something I typed out of the blue so be warned about punctuation and things.

Also slight tw warnings: descriptions of severe injuries, childhood trauma/arranged marriage, and abusive parenting.

Hope y’all like it! (Fic under the cut!)

It was an early morning in the sanctuary village known as Knothole, and the people of the town were already bustling about opening shops and helping repair equipment that will guard the outer island from attacks from Dr. Eggman. It had been five years since the first attack that destroyed the kingdom of Starlight Archipelago and the disappearance of the now found king, Nigel Acorn. Nigel had only just recently been saved about two weeks ago from being thrown into a hellish special zone known as the Zone of Silence and is still recovering from his experience.

The saffron colored squirrel sits upright in bed, peaking from the window next to him at his people going about their business below. as much as he would love to go down and reassure them that he was okay, he would hate to have the see the state he is in now. His once healthy, well built frame was almost nothing but skin and bones from being starved of food and water. Bright, glittering emeralds pierce through his skin causing fur to fall out around the edges of the gems, showing infected skin and bruises. He felt constantly exhausted, no matter how much rest he would get he would always fall back into a nauseating drowse. Being in a place void of sound had made him restless, now having a constant sound near him at all times whether being a radio or even drips from a faucet to help keep his sanity. But this never deterred him from keeping his spirits up, he was so happy to be home with his two kids and husband that he always smiled no matter who entered the room, just glad he can even hear someone’s voice.

Nigel flopped backwards onto his pillow, already winded from just forcing himself to sit up all the way without support. He just sighed and turned his attention to the door on the opposite side of the room, wondering where could his husband, Charles be. He is supposed to take many medications to help with his health, pain, and to make the crystals growing in him halt for just a bit of time. But Charles seemed to be running late this morning, in fact, he could actually hear him from down stairs… arguing with someone. Nigel tried to figure out what Charles was saying but it only came to him in jumbled up sentences, he did always tend to mumble during arguments making it impossible to understand what he wanted. Suddenly, a door slammed making Nigel jump in surprise, who ever Charles was fighting must’ve been someone Charles hated with a passion. Nigel had his suspicions on who the person might be, but rather not think about it. Besides, he could already hear Charles marching up the stairs, the sound of a well worn boot and the clink of metal from a prosthetic leg.

“Damn, what a way to start the day” Charles mumbled to himself as he entered the room, carrying a tray with Nigel’s medicine and a cup of tea. He turned to see Nigel trying to force himself up, trembling while holding on to the window sill, only to once again nearly falling back onto his pillow. Charles immediately ran up to catch him before his fall, Nigel just turned to look at him and gave Charles that gentle smile he knows and loves.

“Oh thank you love! I don’t know how you manage my clumsiness lately, I really need to start being careful.”

“Clumsiness? Nigel! You’ve basically been to Hell for five years and just got back! Of course you’re tired, there’s no need to blame yourself for that!” Chuck reassured Nigel as he began to prepare his medications.

“Sigh, you’re right Chuck, but I wish I could be doing more to help everybody. Oh speaking of which, who were you talking to downstairs?”

Chuck paused for a moment before handing a tea cup to Nigel.

“You heard all that?”

“The floor boards and walls are very thin, Chuck.”

“Well… man I feel like a jerk now for slamming the door. It was your old man he wanted to talk politics with yo-“

Nigel choked on his tea in surprise, spilling some of it on his chest and arms.

“Oh bloody hell!” Nigel moaned in anger, beginning to try and clean up the mess. But was stopped by Chuck as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“No point of trying to clean it up, I don’t want hot leaf water all over you.” Chuck said smirking a bit.

“You’re very funny Charlie, now about my father, why has he only come now?”

“Like I said, to discuss some politic things, I don’t know what sort of politics seeing that the kingdom is….. anyways, I told him you need rest but he wasn’t hearing it. And you know how I feel about him, I lost my temper, I really should’ve asked if you wanted to see him.” Chuck finally pulled off Nigel’s shirt, being careful not to tear it on the sharp edges of the crystals in his skin. When he looked at Nigel’s chest he almost felt sick, seeing his husband’s ribs jutting out, bruising and scars scattered up and down his body made him feel crushed that he couldn’t protect him as both his knight and partner. He quickly turned away and walked to a dresser to find a clean shirt.

“That was all he wanted? Just to talk about any sort of kingly duties I may have left?”

“Seems like it.”

“Chuck, when I first came home, I went into a coma for about three days, right?”

“Yep, it scared the shit out of everybody, including me.”

“Did- did my father ever come to see me during that time? At any point did he come into the room to even glance at me?” Nigel’s voice began to quiver a bit.

Chuck’s heart began to sink, not wanting to tell Nigel the truth.

“….No. I’m sorry bu-“

“What about the kids?! Did he help you take care of Sally and Elias? Did he even try to see them at any point all this time?!” Tears began to form in Nigel’s eyes.

“Nigel-“

“So he didn’t? He never once cared about what happened to his son, I could’ve been dead this entire time and it didn’t even matter as long as he got his kingdom and fortune back right?!?”

“Nigel!”

“Let me guess, I bet he even tried to already make arrangements for Sally to be wed to someone, already planning his perfect view of a future for a ten-year-old! Am I wrong Chuck?!”

Chuck was absolutely stunned by that last comment, silence filled the room except for the muffled laughter and chatter of the village outside. Nigel’s eyes were already welled up with tears as he stared at Chuck, waiting for the answer he already knew.

“Yes… He tried to… Oh Nigel I hate for you to think about these things when you’re like this.”

Nigel laid back on the pillow and tried to wipe the tears from his face, Chuck slowly approached, sat on the bed, and picked up Nigel, embracing him in his arms.

“The world nearly ended, and he had the audacity to immediately try and change the life of his own granddaughter just like he did to me. Right after everyone assumed I was dead.” Nigel squeezed Chuck tightly, as more tears fell from his cheeks, Chuck stayed quiet, letting Nigel let his emotions go and helped him calm down.

“Darling, you don’t need to see him anymore. Even when you’re no longer king you never have to see him again. What he’s done to your kids and yourself is awful, you’re a million times a better father than he has ever been for his entire life.”

“I- I just wish I c-could have been there for them. I should have known better than to let h-him even meet Sally.” Nigel stuttered as he pulled back from Charles, he was about to begin to clean up his face only for Charles to grab his cheeks gently and wiped away his tears.

“You did that out of the kindness of your heart,” Charles stated, as he kissed the top of Nigel’s head, “Max should be lucky that you’d even let him catch a glimpse of his grandchildren, and you may not could have been for them then, but you’re here now! And they absolutely love you! They won’t stop talking about what an amazing dad you are, how their daddy fought off the evil troll wizard and sacrificed himself to save us all! Yes the past was painful for everyone, but you’re here now, they have their dad back again, and that’s all that matters.”

Nigel looked at Charles in his eyes, his breathing slowing down as he realized that everything will be okay. A small smile softened on his face as he leapt onto Charles for one more hug, using all his energy to do so.

“Thank you love, but you know, they already have another dad to keep watch and love them. And I couldn’t ask for anyone other than you to be their father.” Chuck got flustered when he heard this, they’ve been together for such a long time, and he still gets butterflies in his stomach whenever Nigel said kind words to him.

“Well, this certainly has been a morning, and I haven’t even changed your clothes yet, here!” Chuck swooped an oversized sweater over Nigel’s head catching him by surprise, Nigel simply laughed and helped Chuck to try and pull his arms through the sleeves. Nigel would then finish up his medicine and get into a comfortable position to spend the rest of the day in bed.

“Heh, it’s funny, usually around this time Sal-“ Chuck couldn’t finish his sentence before the loud bang of a door being swung open, revealing a young princess Sally and her little brother Elias in the doorway.

“Daddy! You won’t believe what me and the freedom fighters found!” Sally yelled as she leapt onto the bed, grabbing a hold of her father and hugging him around the neck.

“I can’t wait to hear it!” Said Nigel in a laughing voice,

“What about you Elias? Have you got anything to show today?” Chuck asked as he motioned him to come closer.

Elias simply climbed up on Chuck’s lap and dug around in his jacket pockets, only to then pull out a dagger that clearly he shouldn’t have.

“Elias! Where did you get that?!”

“That’s so cool! Where can I get one?!”

“CHARLES.”

“Oh yeah, sorry Eli, you gotta give your old man the knife, it’s dangerous you know!” Charles sarcastically said as Elias carefully placed the dagger in Chuck’s hand. Nigel sighed and Elias climbed onto the bed to sit next to Nigel, leaning on him waiting for Sally to tell her story. As Sally began to reenact the adventure he had been on, Chuck couldn’t help but watch Nigel, his face beaming with joy and pride of his children. Despite being dragged through such devastating events, he keeps his head held high and heart full of love. And Chuck couldn’t ask for anything better.