#i wish i could dump my brain into the snow. i just know it needs it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

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here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

#if u see a typo no u dont #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #here have a super self-indulgent fic before the next disaster of an ep drops #sg spoilers

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troubatrain · 3 years

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new year’s day - m.tkachuk

a/n: i wasn’t going to write a part two to tis the damn season, but i couldn’t help but feel like new year’s day was an excellent excuse to write one so here we are. i started this blog about a year ago sometime after new year’s and it’s been a little crazy but you guys are honestly awesome. i just wanted to thank you for constantly supporting my fics and chaotic ways i write and all of the people who i get to idea dump with. thank you & have a happy and safe new year’s!

Life was sweet.

Matthew had been blissed out since the moment you both arrived back in Calgary, like the last piece of his life had fallen back into place. You were the kind of peace he needed, someone who anchored him down before his ego got the best of him, and someone who could see past all of the bullshit to begin with. Matthew knew a storm was on the horizon, the talk about what any of this means after you left to go back to St. Louis. Matthew fucked up the first time, because he a dumb kid who wasn’t ready for anything life was about to throw at him. He got scared, all of the new pressure in his life got real and he ran away from the only thing that comforted him.

For the moment, none of that mattered. What was important to him right now was watching you laugh with a few of his teammates in a dress Matthew intended on taking off later. A laugh he could have recognized anywhere. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matthew was hosting, something he never thought would happen. His teammates thought he was kidding when he asked if they wanted to go to his place for a New Year’s Party, but he was being serious. You outdid yourself, telling Matthew he couldn’t possibly have a party with any sort of decorations.

“You look good with a girlfriend Chucky,” Matthew’s stare was broken but Mark’s voice behind him. A hand lands on his back of his neck to cover the blush. You made him better, that’d been clear from the moment you walked in your freshman English and sat next to Matthew. He had a perfect grade in that class, because he spent a year trying to impress you before he finally just asked you.

“Trying not to fuck it up this time,” Matthew admits sheepishly, because he was so nervous about losing you again, “She’s always been it for me, but I can’t just ask her to stay here-”

“You don’t have to, just let her know she’s part of your plan,” Mark suggests, and it makes sense to Matthew. When you dated the first time, he had all these plans. His plan for where he’d go before he got drafted, his plan to play his first year, and none of them ever included you. Well they did, but Matthew wasn’t about to tell you he wanted to marry you at seventeen. You deserved to know that when he thought about his future, it was with you.

It was here. It was watching you joke with Johnny and Sam like you’d known them for years. It was the first game you went to after you landed and Matthew got to skate out for warm ups and see you against the glass. It was the other morning when he caught you peeking out the windows of his condo while snow was falling, your eyes sparkling at the site. Matthew couldn’t think of anything else he wanted for the rest of his life besides you.

Matthew excuses himself from the conversation, catching a glimpse at the time. It was five minutes to midnight, a New Year was about to ring in and he got to spend it with you. He sneaks behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling into him, “Hi.”

“Matty,” You squirm, giggling while Matthew tickled at your sides. He didn’t care who heard you call him Matty because it was you. You look up at him, a smile on your face while you pressed a kiss to his cheek. Matthew scoffs, pointing to his lips, “At midnight bubs.”

“Yeah bubs,” Sam teases, Matthew lifting up his middle finger. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“Just admit you’re a big baby Matthew, it’ll save us some time,” You smirk, Sam breaking out in laughter. Matthew was a big baby, constantly whining when he couldn’t pull you close in bed or pouting his way through something he didn’t want to do, “Now countdown to midnight with us…”

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

A chorus of cheers and New Year’s wishes filled Matthew’s place, but all of that was static with your lips pressed against his. His hand was splayed across your back, the bare skin peeking out of your dress was on fire from his touch alone. His other hand was tilting your chin up, holding you close to him.

“Happy New Year baby,” Matthew mutters, another quick kiss to your lips before he pulls away. Your eyes fluttered open, snapping back into reality.

By the time it was two in the morning, Matthew had managed to push his party guests out and his next task was you. You were spinning around his bedroom, and Matthew was waiting for you to trip over your own heels every second. You finally flop down on his bed, kicking your feet out, “Please?”

Matthew sighs, pausing from unbuttoning his own dress shirt and sitting next to you on the bed. He unbuckles your heels, “Have fun tonight?”

“I like it here,” You whisper, as if you’d been afraid to admit it. You snuggle into the bed, your eyelids getting heavier by the minute, “Because you’re here.”

“I like it here more when you’re here too pretty girl,” Matthew grins, his eyes soft when he looks down at you, “You need to get out of this dress.”

“Get me out of it,” You smirk, picking your head and giving Matthew a wink. If you weren’t five tequila shots deep he probably would have, but he knew you were far too drunk for that. He chuckles, shaking his head and tossing you one of his shirts and walking into the bathroom. He finally got back into his room, your head on his pillow while you waited for him.

He finally jumps into bed, throwing an arm over your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “Goodnight.”

“Matty?” You call out, whispering before he falls asleep on you. He hums, waiting for you to speak, “Don’t give up on me this time.”

And Matthew could have sworn he felt his heart break.

***

You woke up with a massive headache, only getting worse by Matthew’s snoring in your ear. The past week had been nothing short of perfect, Matthew pulling out all the stops to prove he really did want you back. You roll over in his arms, tracing the side of his face, he wasn’t going to wake up. Matthew hadn’t changed, and that meant he still slept like a rock. Your fingers moved along the stubble across his chin, a new addition with change you were starting to love.

You finally got out of bed, tossing on whatever hoodie Matthew had closest to the bed and padding down the hallway to turn up the heat. Calgary was cold, a bitter kind you were in a hate/love relationship with. Most of the love came from why you were here, and the weather was something you just needed to deal with. You walk through the living room, plastic cups from the night before were covering the place. Confetti and polaroid's thrown across the coffee table with intentions for them to be a problem for another time. You pick one up, of you sitting on Matthew’s lap. You were looking at the camera, a wide smile on your face while Matthew was just looking at you.

“I want that one,” Matthew’s raspy morning voice caused you to jump, his long arm reaching over and holding the picture in his hand, “For here.”

You give Matthew a small smile, watching him run his finger over the picture. He’s quiet for a minute, biting his lip like he’d been debating what to say, “Matty?”

“I see you in my future,” Matthew breathes out, his last and final confession he had to make to both of you, “When I think about all of the things I want, you’re always there.”

“What if it happens again?” You whisper, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. The very real fear of this imploding on the two of you scared you like no other. You had to put those pieces back together alone, and you weren’t sure if you were prepared to do it again, “What if this is too much and-”

“It won’t be, I’m ready this time,” Matthew assures you, “I was ready then too, but I didn’t think you’d be. I had to give you up because you deserved better than following me around while I got myself settled. I am, I’m here and I’m ready for this.”

Matthew’s voice was raw, pleading with you that he was telling you the honest to god truth, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’d rather do hard with you than easy with someone else Y/N,” Matthew smiles, his dimples poking out.

“Matthew I swear if you break my heart again,” You threaten, poking your finger into his chest, “I will let your brother kick the shit out of you.”

Matthew chuckles pressing kisses all over your face, the sound of your laugh flooding his place. You spent the rest of New Year’s cleaning the condo, picking up the empty champagne bottles left from the night before and spending the day on the couch before your flight left.

***

What Matthew didn’t know then, was that it would work. Long distance was rough, but you’d both made enormous sacrifices for each other. It took planes, trains, cars and a whole of patience, but by the time the next year rolled around- things still seemed to work. You walked through the lobby of Matthew’s place in Calgary, your suitcase felt heavier than it had been on any of your previous trips. You had a late Christmas present for him, one that if you didn’t give him in person it wasn’t going to be the same.

“You’re here!” Matthew hops off the couch when you let yourself in, he grabs your waist picking you up and spinning you around. Matthew presses a kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you stopped him, “Babeeeee…”

“Quit your whining, I have something for you,” You stop him, opening up your suitcase and pulling out a folder. He furrowed his eyebrows, sliding it open. It was a job offer. One for your dream position. In Calgary.

Matthew was stunned, speechless while his eyes read over the offer four times. It was real and if it meant what his brain thought it did it meant that a year of long distance was about to be so fucking worth it. His finger ran across the paper, looking up at you. You had a grin on your face, happy with yourself for not telling him until this very moment.

“I’m going to take it, if that wasn’t obvious-” You start to explain, but Matthew had scooped you back into his arms before you could finish speaking. His arms were holding you tightly, muttering something into your shoulder, “What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Matthew’s eyes were bulging out his head, and you narrowed your eyes at him. He was lying to you, you just gave him the best news of his life and he’s lying to you.

“Stop lying”, You demand, stepping out his arms, “Do you not want me here?”

“Fuck, no baby I do, I just-” Matthew sighs, running into his arm and rummaging through his drawers. You stood by the door, confused as to what had gotten into your boyfriend.

“I was going to do this tonight, I even flew out our families, because I got you back on New Year’s and,” Matthew steps back into the room, a blue box in his hand in a color you’d be damned if you didn’t recognize, “In all of my life, I’ve only ever known that I was supposed to be with one person, and that was you. You’re my soulmate, and the world has constantly tried to pry us apart but I swear it just made us stronger. We’re the best god damn team in the world Y/N, and I think we’d be even better if you married me?”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears spilling out while Matthew’s soft blue eyes were staring into yours. He was right, you were the best team in the world. You were two people who could look at each other in a crowded room and know what the other was thinking. You were in love, and the few years where you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t always going to be Matthew at the end were just a part of the story. You nod your head, watching Matthew put that ring on your left hand and you couldn’t help but think about the way you’d get to tell your children and grandchildren your most epic love story.

Because after all, you wanted his midnights, and everyday after that.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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stormcrawler75 · 4 years

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Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.

Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.

Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.

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Virgil fucking hated snow.

There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?

All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.

He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.

Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.

Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.

Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.

Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.

Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”

Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.

Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”

“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”

Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”

“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”

Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”

Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”

“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”

“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”

He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.

“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.

Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.

“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”

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

The Temple was beautiful.

Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.

“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.

Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”

The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.

Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.

He looked familiar.

The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.

Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.

“Vergilius!”

The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.

Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”

“Vergilius?”

“As in the God Vergilius?!”

“The God of Love and Beauty!?”

“Virgil, our Virgil?”

“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”

“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.

The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”

Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.

But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.

“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”

The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”

“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.

There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”

Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”

The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”

“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”

The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.

And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.

They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.

“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.

Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.

It was beautiful.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”

Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”

“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”

“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”

Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”

“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”

“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”

“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”

“For once, I agree with my brother.”

Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”

The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.

The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”

“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.

There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”

The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”

“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”

Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”

“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”

“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.

“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.

Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.

Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”

One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”

“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.

But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”

Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.

Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.

Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.

It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.

“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.

“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”

Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”

Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”

“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.

But he did.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”

Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”

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#Storm Writes #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Tw Memory Loss #tw scars #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #Emile Sanders #Remy Sanders #Elliott (Cartoon Therapy)#Remus Sanders #though Remus only has one line and isn't mentioned by name directly #Anonymous

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reallivegeekgirl · 3 years

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StanQuest

Something clicked on in my brain a couple months ago and suddenly Sebastian Stan became the hottest man alive. So I decided to watch everything he’s ever been in. A friend and I called it StanQuest.

Here are my spoiler-free reviews for anyone considering something similar (in inverse chronological order starting with latest works and going back in time. The stars are an overall rating of the work, not of Sebastian’s performance.

This only lists things I could find streaming for free or a price I was willing to pay. It does not count after credits scenes, music videos, or works in which he was uncredited.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021) - TV show - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This started it all. I very much enjoyed it. Good balance of humor and action, heart and heroics. I’ve watched it four times already, and will watch it again. Bucky Barnes is my favorite character of his and this is my favorite story of Bucky's so far. I can’t wait to see what he does next. (And I have a lot to say about how they treat his trauma in this show. I’ve definitely written about it before and may again.)

Monday (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one where he gets naked. If that’s all you’re looking for, enjoy. It was a very realistic portrayal of a relationship between two deeply flawed people. It can get depressing. But hey, penis.

The Devil All the Time (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you think Monday is depressing, this movie says “hold my beer”. But something about it is just captivating. It’s really disturbing, and if you’ve ever been screwed over by American Evangelical Christianity it might be more disturbing. Still, I’ve watched it twice. And as much of a bastard as Lee Bodecker is, he also looks really cuddly. He’s just barely in it.

The Last Full Measure (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - You will cry. A lot. It’s based on a true story. Sebastian plays a man who cares more about his career than this weird quest dumped on his desk by his boss, but changes his mind and his heart as he investigates why a war hero was denied a medal of honor 34 years before. Definitely recommend.

Endings, Beginnings (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - One of two love interests in the complicated life of Shailene Woodley’s Daphne, Sebastian is an adorable mess. The editing is interesting and fresh feeling. Watch it and you’ll see what I mean. Fair amount of sex in this movie, and you see his butt. It’s a very nice butt. I’ve watched this one a few times so far.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐ - There is no reason to watch this movie if you’re not familiar with at least most of the rest of the MCU. It plays merry hob with the rules of time travel, and only makes sense if you don’t really think about it. In my opinion, the ending is really freaking stupid comsidering his character’s history, but at least it sets up TFatWS, which was amazing.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2018) - Movie - ⭐ - If you’re into movies that are creepy but also almost nothing happens for most of the movie, this is the one for you. Sebastian is handsome as hell, but also a complete asshole. As fine as he is, I’m not gonna watch this again. I fucking hated it.

Destroyer (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- I had a hard time paying attention to the plot because it seemed like they made this movie just to get Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination for wearing ugly makeup and playing a complete mess of a person. It’s a fine movie, and all of the performances are good. Sebastian looks surprisingly good with the short hair and goatee. Ultimately, the plot is depressing and the whole movie seems kind of pointless.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Again, no reason to watch this if you aren’t already familiar with all the movies leading up to it. It’s long and the villain looks like Grimace and a California Raisin had an evil baby. The ending made me scream with frustration that I had to wait until the next one came out. Now I just watch them back-to-back if I watch them at all. It’s not a good movie, but it is part of a long-form story that I enjoy in general.

I’m Not Here (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Another depressing one. Told over the course of one man’s terrible life, it’s a sad account of how much your parents can fuck you up. Sebastian portrays the middle part of the man’s life. J.K. Simmons plays the current day part and unreliable narrator.. Do not watch unless you are fully prepared to be sad for a really long time after.

I, Tonya (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- This movie is hilarious. I mean, the true story is insane and really stupid. The spousal abuse is hard to watch, and Sebastian’s mustache in this is a war crime. But the acting is great and it’s a very engaging movie. The parts that aren’t horrifying are pretty funny.

Logan Lucky (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Watch. This. Movie. Sebastian Stan is only in it a little, but it’s a really fun, clever caper/heist movie and everyone in it is fantastic. I don’t want to say anything else about it if you’re going in fresh. I’ll be rewatching this one a lot

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you ignore how kind of silly the conflict over the Sokovia Accords is, this is a good Marvel movie. Sebastian gets a lot of screen time because Bucky is the more pressing concern/urgent point of contention than the Accords. Bucky is my favorite character of his partly because of this movie.

The Martian (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I’m watching it(again) as I’m typing this. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. Sebastian Stan isn’t in it very much, but he’s very cute and so is his little story arc. Mostly I watch it because Ridley Scott made a fantastic movie. If you can get your hands on the Blu-Ray, it comes with a ton of extras. They made a very complete story that isn’t all seen in the movie. A lot of it is stuff about Mars, but there are also extra “crew” interviews, so there’s another chance to see more of Sebastian’s character.

Ricki and the Flash (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - He’s not in this very much, but he’s very cute when he does appear. It’s all about the relationship between Ricki and her daughter. Definitely rewatchable. Meryl Streep is fantastic, because she’s Meryl Streep.

The Bronze (2015) - Movie - ⭐ - This is not a good movie. It’s about Olympic gymnastics, so it might be slightly more interesting right now while the Olympics are happening. Sebastian isn’t in it a lot, but his performance is certainly… memorable. Weirdest sex scene I’ve ever seen. Worth watching just for that.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one I can watch over and over. I bought a Winter Soldier face mask for when I need to feel like a badass. Bucky’s story is really sad, but he’s also extremely sexy with the metal arm and determined walk.

Once Upon a Time (2012-2013) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐ - This show is so stupid, but it’s also fun. If you haven’t seen it, the premise is that fairy tale characters are real and live in another land. Snow White’s Evil Queen casts a spell to transport a bunch of them to a town she creates in Maine called Storybrooke, and gives them all fake memories so she can be mayor and watch them all not remember who they are. Sebastian plays Jefferson, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. He’s in a few episodes in season 1 and 2, and doesn’t get a ton of screen time, but he’s really cute and tragic as Jefferson. It probably helps to watch the whole first season just to understand his episodes, but that’s up to your tolerance for weird shit. Note: IMDB says he’s in an episode uncredited, but I’ve watched it and didn’t see him anywhere in that one.

Labyrinth (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐ - Two episodes that tell a complete story. Sebastian isn’t in this one a whole lot, but he is adorable. It’s a strange story about religious stuff and a sort of Holy Grail that’s three books. It’s hard to describe. It’s on Amazon Prime right now, but they’re taking it down August 8, 2021, so watch it while you can.

The Apparition (2012) - Movie - ⭐ - If you like horror movies, you might like this. I did not. From what I understand, it’s not a very good horror movie. Watch with caution and expect it to suck.

Political Animals (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I had to buy this through Apple and watch it on a Mac, but it was worth it. Sebastian plays TJ Hammond, the out gay son of a former American president who is clearly based on Bill Clinton. Sigorney Weaver plays the former first lady and current secretary of state. TJ struggles with addiction and relationship problems. His performance is heart-wrenching. The whole show is pretty great. I wish there was more of it.

Gone (2012) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - More of a psychological thriller than a horror movie. Sebastian has a small amount of screen time as the worried boyfriend. Amanda Seyfried is good. She carries the film well on her own.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you haven’t seen this yet, I’d like to know what it’s like under your rock. This is a movie I can rewatch a lot, and have. I 100% cried in the theater. Sebastian looks fantastic in uniform as Bucky Barnes. This is his introduction and the start of his ultimately tragic story (before he’s saved by his best friend, again).

Black Swan (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Sebastian is barely in this. He’s basically just in one scene in a dance club. But I watched it to try to complete StanQuest, and I had seen it before. It’s a good movie, but might induce some nightmares, depending on what scares you. If Natalie Portman didn’t at least get a nomination for an award she was robbed.

Gossip Girl (2007-2010) - TV Show - ⭐⭐ - Carter Baizen is a little shit. The episodes with Sebastian in them might have made more sense if I watched the show from the beginning, but I didn’t want to. His character is an asshole, but a very cute one.

Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- The people who made this movie are bad at math, and their rules of time travel are sketchy at best, but it is funny and entertaining. Sebastian plays a ski patrol bro who’s paranoid about the Russians, which is hilarious irony to me. Worth watching if you want to laugh at something dumb.

Kings (2009) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐- Sebastian plays Jack Benjamin, the closeted gay son of the king of a fictional place. It’s loosely based on the David and Goliath story from the Bible. Sebastian is so sad and so gay. His family makes his life a living hell. Ian McShane is a force of nature in this. It’s only one season. I’ve watched it twice. I will watch it again.

Spread (2009) - Movie - no stars - This movie was practically unwatchable. It stars Ashton Kutcher and Anne Heche as a romantic couple, I guess? I ended up just skipping to Sebastian’s scenes and only watching those. Still painful.

The Covenant (2006) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This movie is so fuckig stupid, and I will watch it a ridiculous number of times. It’s about magic and teenagers, like The Craft for boys. Nothing about it makes sense. It’s terrible, almost irredeemable, but an evil Sebastian with magic powers is a siren song that will make me steer my boat right into the rocks.

And there you have it. There are a bunch of earlier things on IMDB that I just can’t find or don’t want to pay to rent. Maybe some day I’ll watch them and add them to this list.

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obeymeplz · 3 years

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one of those days ll mammon x gn reader

LISTEN guys... I’ve peeled through every single fanfic and one shot of my boy boy that I can find.

I’m done, finished, kaput. And I need content. So I decided to make my own.

2k words, ft. Belphie my salty homie

Warnings: mean(ish) mammon (because I’m a hoe for angst, highly implicative of smut...?, cussing...?

Enjoy ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry if I suck LOL

It was one of those days, and it all began when you dropped your plate of pickled pancakes (it’s an acquired Devildom taste) all over your crisp, white shoes. Beel involuntarily frowned at the waste of food, while the other demon boys snickered at your inherent clumsiness, Lucifer merely rolling his eyes before excusing himself from the table. But someone was missing that morning.

From that moment on, you knew nothing would be going your way.

Your bad luck followed you to second period, where you received a colossal “F” on your scrying test, and then to lunch where Satan and Asmo had to pull you out of a fight with a succubus who had thought it her business to label you a “suck up whore”. This was a name you were used to; from the moment you arrived, every demon and unthinkable hoard in the Devildom believed you to be sleeping with every brother in the House of Lamentation, playing through all of them with zero consequences. Despite the utter falsity of these accusations, they hurt no less every time you had to hear them.

And to top today’s cake with a juicy red cherry, the one single person who could make all your worries melt away with just a smile had been nowhere in your sights all day. Mammon was indeed the sunshine you needed on this dreary afternoon, with his dumb tinted glasses and cocky remarks, yet endearing eyes and wondrous grin.

Staring out the window of an empty chem room, waiting for someone to be available to walk you home, you realized that it was an odd day - such a new world you’d been thrown into, yet so quickly you had familiarized yourself with your new “normal”; and now that normal wasn’t there. There were certain things you knew, day in and day out.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell.

Mammon will always be there.

These things you counted on to be true, because if they weren’t, you weren’t entirely certain how you’d keep your sanity intact.

“For a human who’s supposed to be completely inferior to our kind, you sure do seem to think a lot”.

Belphie.

“Gee, Belphie, you know, “you sure do” have a way with words. Thank you! I just feel so much better”, you scoffed a retort as you swung your legs over the ledge of the window to face the cow-haired boy, clearly having just woken from sleeping through 7th period. He only smirked at you.

“I heard you need a warm body to walk next to, and I figured I could use the company. Home?”

You smiled smally as he helped you to your feet. “Yeah, home sounds nice”.

He reciprocated the smile.

“So, what really has you down in the dumps?”

You shrugged as you tried to formulate a thought that might make sense to him.

“Well… I guess I-”, you had to cut off mid sentence, because something familiar began to tickle your ears — a laugh, one you’d been aching to hear all day.

“Belphie, is that… is that Mammon? Where has he been all day?”, you were asking the question, but your legs were already moving you out the door away from the answer. He replied, but you could only piece together bits as you got further away from him, following the voice of the snow-haired boy instead. Argument, Mammon left, crashed with friends, all night, definitely in trouble. That’s what you processed.

“Mammon-” you rounded the corner, but halted in your tracks, backing behind it when you came near face-to-face with a group of demons much taller and much stronger than you, energies darker than the ones you were used to being surrounded by.

He hadn’t heard you.

“Bro, that was a riot. You gotta swing with us more often my man”.

“Ya know Lucifer wouldn’t even think ‘bout lettin’ me ride with you guys on the day-to-day. ‘Sides, I got things to do”.

“You mean a human to babysit?”, your breath caught in your throat. You heard Mammon scoff.

“No! I do what I want. They’re cool.”

Your heart pounded into your throat (but that’s something you’d never let him know). You were just friends, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be more. Sure, he was terrible at hiding how much he cared about you, and sure, he was ridiculously possessive over you, but he’s also the Avatar of Greed, so how much of that is him needing you versus his sin needing you? The way you saw it, neither of those things amounted to relationship-worthy love.

The conversation was droning on, and you’d almost forgotten you were listening.

“So, you fuckin that then or what?”

Your head snapped back into full awareness, the tone of your feelings completely changing every second, anxiously awaiting your favorite demon’s reply. Why were you so nervous? He wouldn’t lie about you, he wouldn’t slander your name — not with what people already thought of you because you lived in a giant house with 7 painfully-attractive, desire-filled, and experienced, rulers of Hell.

“Yeah, the rumors true?”

Mammon’s voice came next at a grumble.

He stuttered it.

You almost didn’t catch it.

You must not have.

“Y-yeah. No, I mean absolutely. I mean, how could a human even turn down The Great Mammon? They couldn’t, and they don’t.”

You must not have heard it — but you did, and you almost wished you hadn’t

Before your thoughts could catch up with your limbs, you found yourself rounding the corner yet again. “Yeah, how could they not, Mammon?”, your voice cracking at the end, despite all your efforts to come across smooth and level-headed.

“MC..”, Mammon’s mouth instantly hung open, his chill facade easily melting away. He looked almost identical to a lost puppy within moments.

“Oh you can bet, Mammon fucks me every single night — no feelings involved, because that’s just the kind of big man he is. He’s even fucking me RIGHT NOW. Right, Mon?”, you seethed his nickname through your teeth. Tears were starting to puddle at the lids of your eyes, threatening to expose just how much you really cared for him, and just how unspeakably broken you felt in that moment.

“M-MC. Pl- please don’t —“, he was already approaching you, pushing past the group of boys. You turned on your heel, catching the watching eyes of Belphie at the end of the hall. You ran for him until you were in reach to yank on his arm, pulling him behind you, as fast and as far away from that school, and Mammon, as possible.

“MC!”

Mammon will always be there.

Mammon would not always be there. This was a new truth you heartbrokenly added to your list.

———————————————————-

Your room was icily cold, numbingly so.

You always kept it like that when you were sad, hoping maybe some of the lack of feeling in your body would translate to your heart.

Hoping you wouldn’t feel so shattered.

You trusted him. And he broke it. He broke you.

These are obvious statements, but as you laid solemnly tucked under a heap of blankets, you couldn’t help but run them, and the scene from today, over and over again through your brain.

Maybe you were overreacting?

Mammon had always been the brother, despite his tsundere attitude, who protected you. He never lost his cool with you, and he never treated you poorly. Maybe he made a few callous remarks here and there, but they were gentle underneath, and just his own way of showing you a glimpse of the angel wings he’d lost a long time ago.

Mammon had become your home.

“MC?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but it was undoubtedly him. You weren’t sure if you were shocked, happy, angry, or assured that he had come, but either way, you wouldn’t dare leave your covers to open the locked door. Not yet.

“MC. Please. Open the door. I-I just wanna talk to ya…”

You didn’t budge.

“I will kick this down, ya know”. You were both quiet until you heard some shuffling outside. Your eyes went wide, ready for a foot to come flying through shards of your door. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling over to the rusted knob.

You cracked it open.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to sleep in Beel’s room another week because my room needs renovating for the millionth time.”

Mammon smiled shyly at you, apologetically more than anything.

“Can I.. ya know, come in?”

You pulled out of the way, making just enough room for the tall, lean demon to slip through the crack in your door.

The moment he stepped in, he was engulfed in darkness, nothing but dim threads of moonlight that seeped in through your curtains to highlight the sharp features of his face and body. He’d shed his jacket since earlier, leaving him in his fitted black tee and jeans.

So beautiful.

You mentally slapped yourself for even thinking about it.

You were mad at him.

“So. Please talk. I’m exhausted and wasn’t planning on even looking at you tonight.” You were curt. But you had to be, or else you wouldn’t be able to hold anything back, whether that be anger, or adoration.

He looked taken back — hurt — too. He glanced at your bed and the candy wrappers strewn about the floor. Mammon wasn’t too bright, but he knew enough to know when someone had been crying for well over an hour.

On a normal occasion, he would’ve thrown himself onto your sheets, rolling until he found a comfortable position to scroll his D.D.D. and poke at you for hours.

But tonight, he awkwardly crossed his arms and shuffled his feet, clearly unsure of what to say first — or at all, for that matter.

“I-“

You raised a tired eye, cueing him to spit whatever excuse he could possibly say out.

“I get a bad rep sometimes.”

What?

“For liking ya.. Hanging with ya.”

If this was an apology, it was the worst one you’d ever heard in your life.

“Oh? Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden to your bravado. Let me continue to take myself out of the picture.” You pointed at the door for him to leave, ready to break down the moment he walked through.

“No! That- that’s not what I meant.” He made eye contact for a mere moment, silently begging for you to see his sincerity.

“Is anything ever what you mean, Mammon?” The use of his full name in a mix with that tone clearly set him back, but he shook it off hurriedly.

“Yes! I mean, I don’t care. Usually. I’d-I’d just had a rough day with Luci. Rough life, more like, and I was tired of feelin’ like shit ‘bout myself. Nazriel’s question jus’ threw me off. I-I wanted to seem cool, so I said what I knew would make me, and-“

“And you’re a piece of shit for it”.

You weren’t wrong. And he knew that.

“... and I’m a piece of shit for it.”

There was a pause before he hesitantly continued.

“I wound up bein’ exactly what I was tryin’ not to be. Scummy.”

He raised his eyes to meet yours, blue hues morphing into gold flecks like waves crashing on the beach. Your breath hitched and caught in your throat, only now realizing that the whole time you’d been arguing, you’d both been slowly edging together. Now, you were dangerously close.

“You aren’t scummy, Mammon…”, you began to tenderly look at him.

“Yeah.. I am. But that’s just me, I guess. I can’t mind it.”

He took one step, leaving you toe to toe. Though one of the shorter of the boys, he still towered over you.

“I jus’ can’t be scummy to you.”

You tilted your head, heart and body language softening as he spoke.

“I shouldn’t be, and I don’ wanna be”.

His hands cautiously made their way to your shoulders, and you shuddered at the feeling that made its way through your bones.

“Mammon?”

“Yeah?”

“That apology shouldn’t have worked.”

He chuckled, “you’re right.”

You smiled, a true smile. The first one all day. And what came next, you knew probably shouldn’t. But you also didn’t really care.

“Mammon?”

He hummed in response, and you stood as high as you could on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. His face deeply rouged the moment your lips met his hot skin.

His eyes were wide as you lowered yourself down, leaving a hand lingering on his arm.

In that moment, his aura shifted, and everything was suspensefully still. Within seconds, his arms wrapped you in a crushing hug, his breath heavy and warm behind your ear.

You sunk your weight into his, relishing the relief from the chill of your room, as you snaked your arms behind his back.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you stood like that, but you knew it must’ve been a while, because his grip was starting to affect your breathing.

“Mon- air”,

He lightened up and pulled back from you.

“S-sorry!”

Your lips turned up at the sight of his cute embarrassment. He scowled at you, knowing what you were thinking, but slowly started to laugh.

He leaned his forehead against yours, the sudden proximity causing you to let out a slight squeak.

“Ya drive me nuts, ya know?”

You searched his eyes, trying to make sure he was saying what you really thought he was.

This was a bad idea. For so many reasons.

But truthfully, neither of you gave two shits.

So he ghosted his lips over yours, his left fang biting his bottom, waiting for the sign to move — the sign that you wanted him, the sign that he would be enough.

The second you tilted your nose to the side of his, he crashed his mouth into yours.

From all the “first kisses” with your “first man” that you’d imagined, this was like none of them.

It was so

so much better.

It was fast, it was hard, but it wasn’t rough. It wasn’t brutal. It wasn’t empty. It was a cataclysm of feelings — pent up tension, pent up love.

As he dragged his mouth over yours, he hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you to wrap around him in one, swift movement. Then, he was on the move, backing himself toward your bed until the back of his knees met the mattress, and he collapsed, pulling your legs to straddle his lap. You hadn’t disconnected from his lips the entire time, still fervently needing more of him. You knew he felt the same. The demon of greed would most certainly never have enough of you. He tasted sweet and smelled strongly of an expensive cologne you knew he probably couldn’t actually afford. One of his hands stayed splayed on the top of your thigh, while the other worked to bring you even closer to him (if that was possible), pressing underneath your shirt to the skin on your back, two fingers edging their way into the beltline of your shorts.

He was careful not to take himself too far, to not lose control, and you could tell, so you worked your tongue past his lips. He sucked in a breath as the complete access to your mouth made room for him to deepen his greed for you. Slipping his tongue to meet yours, he nipped at your bottom lip, working his entire mouth in a blissful harmony.

He pulled back, heaving air, seeping desire from every muscle, just enough to speak to you,

“MC… I-I can’t… I can’t handle this... well... for much longer. I don’ know what I’m gonna do to ya…”, he began to pepper wet kisses down your neck, unable to keep himself off you long enough to even hear your reply.

You weren’t sure what else you were expecting, or if you were expecting anything else at all.

You were making out with a demon, after all.

You moved a hand to rake your nails through his frosty hair, and he leaned into the palm of your touch.

“It’s okay. I want you. All of you...”, it was only a whisper, but you were afraid if you spoke too loud, you’d snap the moment in half.

He did nothing but growl before reattaching his lips to yours, bringing his slender fingers to tug up at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m gonna do my best not to hurt ya…” he mumbled on your lips. You simply nodded, running your hands against his abs. He shivered at the contact, before helping you remove his own shirt.

Somewhere in the midst of him sliding on top of you, and the complete sight of the demon boy you had always longed for filling your soul, you heard the faintest of three words. You almost tricked yourself into believing they never entered the air, that they’d never left his lips.

But they were impossible to ignore.

“I love you”.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell, with 7 boys you dearly love,

but one holds you in the palm of his hand.

Mammon will always be there.

That night, he proved that truth to you over, and over again.

fin.

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celestialflamesme · 3 years

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| UNDER THE STARS | A Stashi One-shot | Fairy Tail Next Generation |

Ships: Storm Fullbuster x Nashi Dragneel

Happy Stargazing! @primaverafrog @luna-chan00 @biorckstudios18 @animaration-fts @cxndy-stxrs

It was 3 a.m. and Storm was going to kill Nashi.

In fact, as soon as they reached wherever she was dragging him to, he would dig a giant pit and push her in.

No, that wasn't evil of him. No, he did not care that he thought that she was cute yesterday or the day before that or before that (or beforeeee that). No, he did NOT (like absolutely no, nuh-uh) think she looked phenomenal with her baggy black sweater and her hair in a bun. (YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO STAY MAD AT HER, DUMBASS!! WHY'RE YOU THINKING ABOUT HER HAIR?! YOU AIN'T A SIMP!!!)

Anyway, where was he going with this? Uhh...

Right! One simply did not wake the eldest Fullbuster up at 3 am and drag him out to the middle of nowhere and expect to live. So Nashi better have a good reason why he shouldn't throttle her right there, right now.

"I can literally feel you glaring at the back of my head, Ice-breath." She teased. He growled back in response, making the pinkette laugh (Sadist. Sleep-nabber. Why, oh, why did he have to like her?)

"TADA!!!" She waved her arms dramatically, (Albeit, cutely. DAMNIT STORM, YOU SIMP!!) presenting the reclusive spot she'd picked for whatever the hell she had planned.

"Nashiiii," he whined. (Yes, yes he did whine. He was a 16-year-old teen boy that needed his sleep to function coherently damnit!! You couldn't blame him!!) "Why are we here, woman?!"

"There's a meteor shower tonight!" Nashi grinned from ear to ear, "And you're the only one that can bear the cold."

Storm deadpanned. "That's the only reason you woke me up and made me carry this?!" He dropped the basket (Which was definitely filled to the brim with food, the eldest Dragneel sure could eat...)

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," she muttered, pulling a picnic mat out and laying it on the snow-laden earth. And as she took two blankets out, Storm came to 2 startling conclusions.

One: Yes, moron. It wasn't a dream. Stop pinching yourself.

Two: He was going to watch the stars with Nashi Dragneel, the girl he was absolutely, without a doubt, in cahoots about, feelings-wise.

Shoot.

The pinkette plopped on the mat and patted the space next to her, her ruby blanket clashing against the snow-field. And his heart did a little flip-flop at the sneaky grin she had on her face. Uh-oh. (Shit, do something smooth and unexpected and get out of this situation with the upper-hand!)

And he did. He sat next to her and guess what? He snatched her pack of chips.

Smooth.

There was no one in a five-mile-radius that didn't hear the indignant shriek that escaped her at that moment (Maybe she was sleepier and snappier than she let on, hehe.)

"YOU DON'T EVEN LIKE CHIPS, YOU TOOL!" Nashi yelled, trying to wrestle the pack off his hands.

"Who says I don't?" He teased.

"YOU DID!! UNHAND THEM NOW!!"

"Fine, fine." Letting out a sigh as he watched her scarf down half the pack (It was a HUGE pack, mind you) Storm grabbed his own blanket and tucked himself in. "When does it begin?"

"In like half an hour." She mumbled with her mouth full.

"Why are we here NOW THEN?!" Storm screeched. She glared at him.

"Because I didn't want to miss it! Duh!"

He let out a groan and grabbed a caramade frank, chomping on it frustratedly. Nashi, for her part, remained blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. And how could she? It wasn't like she liked him back. No matter what anyone said, an unrequited crush suckeddddd.

6 minutes later, he'd finished the caramade frank and was laying on his back flicking snow at Nashi. (To which she finally retaliated by dumping a handful on his face.)

9 minutes later, they were having an impromptu snowball fight and Storm was winning. (Kind of obvious though, ice powers did come in handy.)

"No fair! I was just checking the skies!" She grumbled, hair damp with snow, sprawled on the ground.

"All's fair in love and war," he smirked, throwing another snowball at her form, making her yelp.

"I forfeit!"

"Well, that's a first," he plopped next to her, throwing her blanket smack on her face and settling in his own. She grunted a thank-you and increased her temperature, warming them up. Both were silent for quite some time.

Until......

"Random question. Would you date me?"

He was really really going to regret this in the morning but right now, he curiously tried to gauge her reaction.

Nashi shrugged, "Right now? No."

Wait, what? Right- right now? What did he do? Was she mad at him? Did he take it too far with the snowball fight? Or maybe she was letting him down lightly. Oh, he should've figured something like this would happen. Why did he think this was a good-

"You're overthinking again, Fullbuster." She smiled at him, "I want to get stronger so that I can protect everyone first."

His heart swelled at that. Storm really was glad he had the privilege to call Nashi Dragneel his friend. But he was still confused.

"That's- that's the only reason you won't date me right now?" He spluttered.

Nashi had a strange look on her face when she said, "Well, yeah."

"But you hate me!" (Okay, even he knew that wasn't true, Nashi Dragneel didn't hate anybody.)

"What? No! That's just some friendly compet- WAIT YOU KNOW I DON'T MEAN ANYTHING I SAY, DON'T YOU?" She shook him by the shoulders, her eyes frantic.

He'd figured that, alright. But the fact still managed to knock his breath out (Only slightly, he was NOT A SIMP!)

"Look!" She squealed, pointing at the dark skies now ablaze with pieces of heaven falling. Both watched with bated breath (him more than her due to reasons as cited above) as the meteors faded, one by one, till there was nothing.

"Dad said the view at Stella is even more breathtaking than I can imagine. He took Mom to see the stars once and they were soo big!" She ranted excitedly. Storm softly smiled at her.

Then something clicked. (Maybe a bit slower than it should've.)

"WAIT, you do know what dating is right?"

She scoffed, indignant at the accusation, "Of course I do!"

That wasn't good enough. "If Gale or Raidyn asked, you'd date them too?" (With Uncle Natsu's dense nature, one couldn't be too sure.)

"What kind of trick question is that? I like you, dumbass!"

Okay, a part of him might've craved this but his brain blanked anyway. How was she so casual and calm about this while he was here internally (and externally, most probably) freaking out?? It seemed too unreal. He reached to pinch his wrist again, and it shouldn't have relieved him as much to see that she was twiddling her thumbs, hence was as nervous as he was. (HE'S NOT THE ONLY SIMP NOW, HAHA!)

This woman. He pulled her against him and kissed her forehead, making her squeak, "Mavis, you're a weirdo."

"W-what the heck?!" She blinked at him with those big brown does eyes of hers, face red as her blanket. (Aw, fuck it, he was totally a simp for her.)

"I promise to get stronger too," he continued, "to protect those I love."

She blinked at him and smirked, "Bet you 5 million jewels I'll be stronger."

"You don't even have 5 million jewels!"

"Yup, I plan to get 5 mil. richer by the end of this!" Nashi chortled, and he smirked back.

"It's a bet. Let's pinky swear on it."

The pinkette snorted, "You're such a dork."

"Oh, we'll see." he paused before casually stating, "I'm obviously stronger right now, though."

"OH, YOU WISH!" She stuck out her tongue at him.

And they laughed and teased and spent the night under the stars like they spent everyday.

Together.

..........

#fairy tail #ft next generation #starry night #comets #meteor shower #nasha x greige #nashi dragneel x storm fullbuster #nalu #gruvia #cuddle under the stars #nashi dragneel #storm fullbuster

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poormeowmeowcollector · 3 years

Text

Under the moonlight

Relationship: Loki/Gender Neutral Reader (on college)

Warnings: straight up fluff

Summary: The quarantine has made all the days look the same. Loki knows that this day is special, and makes sure you'll know too

Notes: how can I not write a birthday fic? And post it on the day of my actual birthday (29/1)? And not seize the opportunity to rant about how online classes are killing me? Huh, how? And @lucywrites02 and I had manifested a forest date, it was too awesome to stay out of the party. It also had murder in it, but perhaps the next time.

Read On AO3

Like every day since that damned March, you wake up from this awful alarm sound and close it. You drag yourself out of the bed and into the bathroom, your brain still asleep. It needs to be bribed with coffee to start acting like a brain at this point.

You walk in the empty kitchen, you're the only one up this early, make the coffee and some cereal on a bowl and return to your bedroom.

Usually, you would try to pay attention to the professor speaking through your laptop, but today you can't find the energy. So, you end up scrolling on your phone, focused on neither of the screens.

Soon enough, your head is staying up because of your hands holding it. You sigh and check at the time, it's probably the end of the period.

And… you've gone through the first ten minutes.

That's it. You'll leave your bones in front of this laptop.

Time passes slowly and torturously, until two cold hands cover your eyes.

"Good morning too, Lokes," you force a smile. His hands retreat as they slither beside you.

"Do you mind if I sit with you, darling? With a teacher like this one, you will need someone to keep you from sleeping on your keyboard," they grin and point at the screen, the slow and low speaking of the history teacher echoing.

He's not wrong and you know it, so you nod. They pull a chair and sit on your left, eyes still on you.

"So… do you plan something for the evening?" he asks, their big eyes and smile trying to distract you from the battle between his fingers. You still take his right hand and cup it with your left.

"No, why should I?" You shrug one shoulder, staring at the God like the class doesn't exist.

"You shouldn't. I mean, you should. Eh, if you want to, of course, no forcing! I-I…" they rumble before giving up with a sigh, cheeks bright red, "just curious,"

You smile and cup his face, trying to brush the blush away with your thumb. "You know, I think that your silver tongue has caught some rust," you hum.

"Shut up," he releases his hand to softly snack yours away, failing to hide a grin.

"Just because you're pretty," you laugh. They nod, letting you pay attention to the class.

But they only do so for five minutes.

"When is this over?" he whines.

"The period ends in an hour and the day ends in three periods," You give them the Pain™ smile, he knows which one.

"By the Gods in Valhöll, how can you do that every day?" they let their neck throw the head back, the chair turning around and around.

"Half of the class is asleep and the other half is either running on coffee or has an IV with Monster. Which, by the way, sounds tempting…" you trail off the last bit.

He sighs and stays silent for the rest of the class. The silence stays until the periods are over, but you decide to dump your chair and sit on Loki's lap after some minutes on the second period. They looked quite bored and your attention needed to be elsewhere, but can you just leave him like that?

While they had zoned out, you finally checked the date. How could you forget you have your birthday?

Or, the biggest question, since Loki obviously knows about it and plans something, what is this something?

This question stays with you and lets you torment it for several hours. You talk to Wanda and Natasha and even Thor about it and no one knows a thing.

The sun is down, you have eaten the cake but it's definite that Loki hasn't gotten his plan to action. They're trying to make your curiosity go mad, you know that. And holy shit, it's working.

"Darling. I want to go for a walk. Do you mind accompanying me?" Loki asks you out of the blue.

"You know I can't get out," you sigh. You weren't much of a person that would be out 24/7, but since the quarantine, you stopped going out at all. Well, someone has to actually do social distancing.

"We won't be somewhere crowded, I promise. Please," they deploy the puppy eyes. Usually, those cheap tactics don't work on you. But you can't resist him.

"Fine. But only if we don't get close to people," you sigh.

"Fantastic! I love you so much, darling! Get some layers on, it's going to be cold," they beam and blow a fast kiss on your lips before disappearing, probably too grab your coat.

Well, it's January, of course it's cold…

You sigh and dress up with your warmest clothes (pants are hard, as usual) before meeting him in the lobby.

"We're going to teleport there, okay?" They explain. You nod, even though teleportation is not exactly your favourite. But, he has something on his mind and you gotta follow the plan for it to pan out, right?

They offer you a hand, which you gladly take. A second after, you're in the middle of a forest.

You cover yourself with your hands and gaze around. The location is far enough from any city. All the stars the clean sky has to offer are visible, the small winter moon shining above you, just a day after the full moon. You're standing on a small clearing, the nature around you without any animal but still beautiful. It's not snowing, so the grass and trees are in their full darkness, only the moon offering light in the scene.

Right in front of you, on the grass, there is a blanket spreaded. Two glasses, a bottle of wine and a cake on top of it.

"Happy birthday, my love," Loki whispers, they don't need to be loud to be heard against the silence.

You throw yourself into the tightest embrace possible, saying 'thank you's and'I love you's like they're prayers. He chuckles and cups your face, their fingers pulling away a few hair.

You let yourself gaze at how the moonlight illuminates their features, the pale skin glowing and this magical shimer dancing in their green eyes. "I believe we should blow your candles," he is still whispering. You agree and sit down on the blanket, watching as they take out the cake and make green flames of seiðr appear on the wicks.

Instead of the happy birthday song, Loki decides to sing something of Asgard. Of course you don't understand a thing and Loki's heavy accent makes it impossible to sing along, but it's the most beautiful song you've ever heard.

They end with a soft note and nod towards the cake. You don't even second guess your wish before you blow the candles.

A cool hand brings you closer to him as he cuts two generous pieces and gives you one.

A week ago, you talked to them about a nice recipe on a blue velvet cake you had found. He didn't like it at all. Yet, the cake in front of you is the blue velvet, and you are sure that Loki had baked it. They have this thing with baking and cooking, they make the thing theirs, no matter how simple.

"It's perfect. Everything is perfect!" you beam and kiss him before he has a chance of eating a second bite. They smile through the kiss and afterwards, resting their forehead on yours.

"Only the best things for my beloved," he breathes out, the air warming up your face. Their fingers take the small fork from your hand and give you a second piece of the cake.

"Eat the piece before we open wine," they instruct. You obey and consume the piece, but slow enough to enjoy it. Loki ends at the same time and steals yet another kiss from you before opening the bottle of your favourite wine.

You keep eating, drinking, kissing and stargazing for hours, smiling at each other whenever there's eye contact. You don't know how, but the wine is getting on Loki as well, making his cheeks reddish and the giggles more. They're adorable, but you love them sober or not.

The next day, you wake up on your warm bed, above a cold body that holds you close.

#loki/reader #loki marvel #loki #marvel fluff #loki fluff #one shot #fluff #birthday fluff #birthday fic #birthday #quarantine #online classes #tooth rotting fluff #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfiction #fanfiction

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rosesisupposes · 3 years

Text

War & Peace

It’s here! My contribution to @sanderssidesgiftxchange 2020!

Adriana, this is for you! @corrupted-sun

Read on ao3

relationships: platonic DLAMPR, intrulogical, prinxiety, moxiety

summary: One of the perks of the mindscape? Even Florida can have a winter wonderland

word count: 2,776

It’s a rare quiet moment. Two walls stare each other down, each hiding the combatants from each other’s gaze. Behind them, the small teams rally themselves to launch once more into battle.

Virgil huddles in the trench, holding an arm around Patton protectively to keep them low and out of sight.

“Pat, I know fighting’s not your thing, but remember: this is war.”

“Isn’t there another way?” Patton asks, eyes huge behind their glasses.

“They’ve left us no choice,” Janus says, checking their supply of ammo. He adjusts his yellow gloves, both eyes glinting. “It’s only a matter of time before an attack comes. It’s either us, or them.”

Patton sighs and takes some ammo. “Just tell me when.”

On the opposite side of the battlefield, Roman kneels, staring off into the middle distance with intensity.

“This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian!”

Logan looks up from their pile of supplies, hidden well into their trench. “Is this really the time, Roman?”

“If not now, my dear nerd, when?” Roman replies, then launches in anew.

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother-”

“I am your only brother here, Woe-man.”

Roman scowls at his twin. “It’s a metaphor, you potato with eyes-”

“I would prefer to not be even a metaphorical sibling to Remus, thanks all the same,” Logan says calmly, doling out piles of ammo. “It would make our dates rather awkward.”

Roman pouts. “Fine, ruin all my attempts at an inspiring speech. Can you at least attack?”

Remus grins, grabbing as much ammo as they can hold. He stands, torso fully clearing the edge of the trench, and starts throwing fast & hard in a steady barrage at the opposing camp. As they throw, he shouts out loud and clear, “LEEEEROYYYY JENKINSSS!”

Across the battlefield, Virgil looks to his left and gasps. “Patton, you’re hit!”

Patton smiles bravely. “It’s just a scratch, Virge.” But both their teammates see a wet patch spreading, stark against their light blue coat.

Janus pulls Patton carefully to just against the trench wall, the safest spot available. He locks eyes with Virgil, who nods with a flinty gaze. As one, they each lob a projectile hurtling over the wall, and another, and another, relying on their intuition to aim, but in perfect sync with each other.

From the field, they hear a surprised shout.

Virgil smirks. “Got’em!”

In the distance, in a voice full of reproach, they hear a familiar call, “Bitch, you ruined my hair!”

“If you can’t handle the slush, get out of the snowfort!” Janus snarks, and throws another snowball over the wall.

Roman brushes ice pieces and damp hair out of his crimson face, pouting even as he grabs more snowballs. “Okay, that’s it. Let’s get them!”

Logan, looking up from his perfectly-arranged pyramid of snowballs, remarks “Once more into the breach, once more?”

“Finally, you get it! Thank you!”

Remus grins at his teammates. “Let’s go!”

They charge over the wall, the twins leading with snowballs in their fists, Logan just behind carrying a stack of pre-made ones as backup. Roman and Remus are yelling incoherently as their arms move like windmills, throwing snowballs as fast as Logan can hand them over.

Virgil and Janus stay behind their snowfort wall, sniping from around the sides, taking time to aim. Virgil aims for the twins’ faces, while Janus targets Logan, trying to disrupt the supply.

Their teamwork functions well, right up until Remus crashes straight into the fort’s wall, falling through the snow fortifications in a crunch of powder and ice. Patton squeals in surprise and pushes a pile of snow onto their face, surprising laughs out of them both.

Remus pops up with snow stuck to his hair, mustache, and chin. “Look, Lolo! I’m Satan Claus!”

Logan smiles and dumps his remaining snowballs on top of his head. “You’ve forgotten your hat, Mx. Claus”

Roman continues the fight, and tries to retaliate with a snowball to Virgil’s face. As he tries, though, a weight grabs him at the waist. He falls back, facing the icy blue sky, lying in the snow, with Virgil on top of him, pink-cheeked from the cold and exertion.

His captor smirks. “Surrender, Princey?”

Roman can’t stop himself from grinning widely up at the taller side, even as he bravely responds, “Never!”

From just outside his vision, he hears a drawling voice say, “That’s really too bad, I was going to make my specialty hot chocolate once the battle was done, guess I’ll need to delay it now…”

Roman stills. “The double chocolate recipe?” he asks cautiously.

“That’s the one,” Janus says with a regretful sigh. “I even got the mini marshmallows shaped like snowflakes.”

Roman bites his lip. “Perhaps we could negotiate a ceasefire.”

Virgil chuckles. “Knew that would work, Princey. C’mon.” He stands, brushing off his purple snowsuit, and helps Roman to his feet too.

Roman sniffs. “I want it noted for the record that you two aren’t winning from your prowess in snow battle, but through bribery.”

Janus grabs the shorter man around the shoulder, messing up Roman’s hair even as he brushes the snow out of it. “Better to be lucky than good, my frozen prince. Let’s go round up the others.”

The other three are sitting in the wreck of the team’s fort. Remus has already decorated the snowy ruins with a dramatic scene of mini snowmen in the middle of a pitched battle, with snow-demons all around the melee. Their hair is sticking in every direction and his tongue is sticking just out of their mouth as he crafts detailed snow-tentacles as the centerpiece. Patton sits beside them, happily building snow puppies around the edges of the snowy battle scene.

Virgil carefully stops short of the display. “Y’all wanna stay out here, or come in for Janus’ hot chocolate?”

Patton and Remus both look up at the same time, eyes alike as they speak simultaneously. “Chocolate? Chocolate?! CHOCOLATE?!”

Logan stands, brushing off his sensible navy coat and adjusting his glasses. “Emile would be so proud of you two.”

Remus carefully extracts himself from their snowscape, waiting until he’s right next to Roman to shake off the snow like a dog. Ice and water spatter out onto their twin as Roman sputters. “Race you to the kitchen!”

The twins are sprinting headlong towards the doors of the Imagination, both trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing the whole time. The rest of the group walks at a more reasonable pace, still pink-cheeked from the cold.

“Virgeeyyyy-” Patton wheedles, their eyes huge and pleading behind their glasses.

Virgil looks over with a grin. “I’m surprised you made it this long before asking, Patty-cake.” He stops and kneels, as Patton claps happily and crawls onto his back. Virgil stands, carrying Pat on his back, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of their wrist where it peeks between mitten and jacket.

“I wish someone would carry me,” Janus says wistfully. “I also don’t want to walk.”

Logan snorts. “Keep on wishing, Jan. I’m not getting into another game of chicken just because Virgil sticks his tongue out at you again.”

“Humph. Guess someone wants to be served his hot chocolate last.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Oh no, what horr-”

“After the twins have gotten into the marshmallows.”

Logan’s head whips around to look at Janus, then back to the twins’ rapidly-retreating backs. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“L, we all know he absolutely would,” Virgil throws back over his shoulder, making Patton giggle as they sway.

Suddenly, a blur passes them as Logan tears after the twins.

“What a dork,” Virgil says fondly. “He never gets less logical than when his sweet tooth is on the line.”

By the time they’ve all trooped back through the Imagination doors into the mindscape, they can hear the bickering from downstairs. Patton slides off Virgil’s back and snaps away their snow gear. “Let’s go see what the kiddos have gotten up to, shall we?”

Janus rolls his eyes as they discover the scene in the kitchen. Roman and Logan appear to be playing keep-away with the bag of marshmallows, both so intent on the sugary treats that neither has appeared to notice that Remus is currently unattended in the living room, starting a fire.Luckily, he actually conjured a fireplace first, this time.

Virgil’s eyes light up as he goes to help them, or at least to go place with matches.

Janus and Patton exchange looks and immediately split up.

Patton calmly hops up on the island in the kitchen as Logan and Roman scramble for the marshmallows.

“Jan promised me hot chocolate!”

“You don’t need the sugar, your diet is terrible enough as it is.”

“Then why should you get it, all you eat is Crofter’s anyway-”

“The brain needs sugar to function!”

“So does creativity!”

Patton just sits and beams at the other two with all the intensity of their megawatt smile. Slowly, both notice them sitting calmly and go sheepishly quiet.

“Ahem. We just wanted to-” Logan begins

“That is, we were making sure that-” Roman stammers.

Patton tilts their head slightly, still smiling, making a small sound of inquiry.

“Sorry, Patton,” Roman says, hanging his head.

“Apologies, Patton,” Logan says, placing the bag of marshmallows gently on the island and stepping away.

“There’s my good boys!” Patton says cheerily. “Now, can y’all get out everyone’s mugs?”

“Heheheheh snap! Crackle! Pop! Rice crispies!” Remus cackles to himself, throwing another branch of dry pine needles into the flame.

Virgil stares into the light, eyes and smile equally huge as he prods it with the poker. “We should add wax!”

“Or newspaper! I like how it delays when it lights!”

“Newspaper covered in wax?”

“Oh fuck yeah!”

They sniggering and toss more flammable objects into the stove.

Janus leans against the wall and sighs, so softly that it would be inaudible, if both Remus and Virgil hadn’t frozen the moment Janus entered the room.

“Remus,” he says calmly, inspecting his gloves.

“Hey there Janabanana!” Remus responds happily. “It’s contained this time, look!”

“Yes, Remus, it is. Was that what I’d said you should do?”

Virgil pushes kindling behind him, trying to move slow enough as if to avoid attention.

“Virgil,” Janus continues, icily calm. “You were there last time, correct? What advice did I give Remus?”

“Um, you know, I think you should ask Logan, my memory is crap-”

“You forgot, Virgey? But I thought you had fun last time!!” Remus asked, their eyes huge and his lip wobbling in a pout.

“Now Virgil, look, you’ve made Remus sad,” Janus says, sympathy dripping as heavily as sarcasm. “You know, it’s funny, I seem to remember my advice was actually for both of you last time. What was is it again? Something along the lines of do not start fires in the Thomas’ home?”

“We’re in the Mindscape, not Thomas’ actual home…” Virgil begins, but trails off at Janus’ raised brow. “Can we keep it going in the stove if we stop adding shit to it?”

Janus hums tunelessly. He gazes through lidded eyes at the two pleading faces watching hopefully, two pairs of mismatched eyes trying their best to look precious rather than chaotic.

But sometimes, a little chaos can be precious.

“Fine, you can keep it, but you two can’t be with it unattended. And I need to make the hot chocolate, so at least one of you is coming to the kitchen.”

Immediately, they both touch their noses, Virgil beating Remus by just a hair of a second.

“Aw, shitfucker,” Remus says with easy humor. “Okay, Jancake!”

As they rejoin the group in the kitchen, Janus gives Roman and Patton a look. “One you needs to go chaperone your boyfriend. He has matches.”

Roman smiles. “As if he could get any hotter!” He twirls out the room, humming something that sounds suspiciously like “Disco Inferno.”

Remus spots their own boyfriend and immediately shifts his shape, shrinking in size just enough that they can literally clamber up Logan’s body. He wraps their arms around his torso, resting their chin on Logan’s shoulder.

“Ah, am I a climbing tree once more?” “Yes you are, Euca-Lo-ptus!”

Janus moves around them all to the stove, listening with a smile

“I was thinking he was more of a Lo-tus, myself,” Patton says with a giggle.

“That may-ple be true, Pat!”

Logan closes his eyes and takes an exaggeratedly deep breath, but the twitch of his lips gives away his amusement. “Must you two always do this?”

“Why, Lolo, wood you rather we leaf you alone?” Remus says with a shit-eating grin. He presses a kiss to Logan’s cheek with a loud smack of lips.

“You know what they say,” Patton says seriously with a nod. “Where there’s a willow, there’s a way.”

“Hey, hey Lo,” Remus says, wiggling with excitement. “If you come up with your own, I promise there won’t be any syca-more of these.”

Logan looks over at Janus, and they share a fond smile at the dorks they live with. “Hmm,” he thinks aloud. “Here’s one. It doesn’t surprise me that you both enjoy tree puns, given that you’re both quite chest-nuts.”

“Oooh, hello Mr. Sassy-fras!” Patton says with a sly wink.

Logan narrows his eyes. “I thought you said you’d stop.”

“Technically, that was just me,” Remus says.

“It’s cause under all that bark, Remus is really just a big old sap,” Patton says, grinning in glee as Logan groans. “I’m done now. It’ll all be oak-ay!”

“Patton!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m done! Promise!”

“Patton, I’m sorry to say you’re banned from the kitchen for that,” Janus says, mixing ingredients over the stove. “Can you bring out the blankets in the living room?”

Logan finishes taking down the mugs and arranges them on the island, Remus clinging to him like an oddly-affectionate backpack. Janus uses his extra arms to heat two saucepans of chocolate at once, and one extra hand to keep the marshmallows at a safe distance away from the other two.

Once he’s poured out equal amounts into everyone’s favorite mugs and distributed an even amount of marshmallows, Logan and Remus help Janus carry the mugs to the living room, where the other three wait in a nest of blankets and pillows near the fireplace. Roman is lying with his head in Virgil’s lap as Patton leans on Virgil’s other shoulder. They all untangle to accept their mugs, shifting to give everyone equal access to the warmth of the cheery glow.

Janus gives Logan a look, and he responds with a lopsided grin. He sits and accepts two mugs of chocolate, saying, “C’mere, Reme, I got us extra marshmallows.”

Remus is immediately distracted from their beeline towards the fire and makes a u-turn into his boyfriend’s side. “Oooooh, are they the gooey ones?”

“Of course, do I look like a man who forgets my own partner’s favorites?”

“Nah, you look like as big a snacc as the marshmallows,” Remus says, flopping into Logan’s lap. Only ease of long practice and anticipation of their behavior allows Logan to avoid spilling all over them both.

Janus chuckles, wrapping himself in a particularly fuzzy blanket that Patton saved for him. “Before you ask, Roman, yes, I brought you extra marshmallows as well.”

“What need have I for extra sweetness when I am allowed to bask in Virgil’s presence?”

“So I should give them to Remus too?”

“Nooo, gimme!”

Virgil snorts. “Oh princey, you’re so predictable.” Before he starts to pout, Virgil bends down to kiss his forehead. “And adorable too, of course.” Visibly mollified, Roman accepts his hot chocolate without taking his eyes off Virgil’s smirk.

Patton reaches across to get their own mug from Janus, using the movement to snuggle more into Virgil’s broad shoulder.

Janus sighs, relaxing into the heat of the blanket nest and the fire. “Did y’all have a good snow day?”

“Practically perfect in every way,” Roman says dreamily.

“Yeah, it was good.”

“It certainly was pretty cool!”

“Patton- yes, Jan, it was quite enjoyable.”

“I liked the part where the snow looked like jizz!”

Roman scoffs. “Reme, do you gotta-”

“It’s okay, Ro. That means they liked it,” Janus says fondly. “I had a good day, too.”

“Love you all,” Patton says sleepily, already getting drowsy despite the sugar.

Virgil kisses the top of their head. “We love you too.”

#sanders sides gift exchange #genderfluid remus #nonbinary patton #p dlampr #snowball fights #hot chocolate #fireplace #platonic cuddling #ts remus #ts janus #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan

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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

From @willow-salix

to @fallenfurther

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Grandma Tracy might portray herself as a hip, cool, down with the kids granny to anyone that would listen but even she had to admit that she was a traditionalist at heart. Not in the way that many might expect, not in the boring way of not moving with the times when needed, she could work the holoprojector almost as well as John when it came to coordinating a rescue, she just subscribed to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ school of thought.

She knew that old fashioned things still had a place in the world, they still had a use, even when people thought they were antiquated and fit for nothing but a museum or a rubbish pile. She’d proven that to Virgil when they had been stuck in London with no technology whatsoever and since then Virgil had had more of an appreciation for the older things in life.

Traditions were important in her eyes, although rarely were they the common ones that everyone in the world did. Mostly because Sally Tracy did not follow the pack, she never had. She refused to do what everyone else did, to her traditions began at home. They should invoke memories of a time long ago and remind you of the things that were important. Family traditions, now they were the way to go.

She could vividly remember her mother singing along to the radio as they decorated the Christmas tree. They would drink hot chocolate and have a lovely time as they decorated, dressing up in the tinsel and talking, catching up on the things they might not have had time to talk about before. Always on the 1st of December, always with Christmas songs playing and always as a family. And Sally had made sure that she'd done exactly the same with her boys.

Now it was Christmas Eve, the gifts had been purchased and wrapped, the tree had been decorated and the family had just about escaped with their sanity after a month of non stop christmas songs on the stereo courtesy of Grandma. Jeff had been the only one brave enough to suggest that maybe they listen to something else but he had quickly backed down when she had speared him with a glare that could have stripped the paint off Thunderbird Two’s hull if she had been close enough to it.

It’s tradition, she said, one of the only ones she could count on since moving to Tracy Island. Beautiful as the island was, it was far too tropical to feel in any way christmassy and the only way she could get in the mood (or so she claimed) was by listening to festive music.

She missed feeling the days grow colder as summer lost its grip on the world and the crisp, chilly days of fall took over. Once fall was firmly there and you couldn’t leave the house without a sweater it was only a matter of time before the smell of burning leaves and woodsmoke filled the air and winter came nipping at its heels. The cold of winter, the first flurries of snow, brought with it the sound of carols, bells and the smell of baking gingerbread. She loved being wrapped up in warm clothes and feeling the icy blast of wind that stole her breath and she missed it when temperatures on the island rarely changed at all.

Rescues often made regular meals and time off difficult, they often interrupted family time and special occasions. The Tracys were used to it, but it did make getting into any kind of routine difficult and often meant that such things as birthdays and christmas felt unimportant. But not to Grandma, to her it was of vital importance and no one had better argue with her. Jeff, wise man that he was, had given up and retreated to his office, his almost soundproof door and peace.

Gordon was in London spending the day with Penelope for her birthday before they returned to the island that evening for Christmas. John was in Five as usual, finishing up preparations for a few well deserved days off (although he would probably be regretting his decision by dinner time Christmas Day), Kayo was visiting Kyrano for Christmas Eve and would return in the morning and Brains was wishing he had never walked into the lounge.

“Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun,” Grandma sang, joining in with the video playing out on the holoprojector as she attempted to crochet a scarf figuring it was as traditional a pass time as any to indulge in, maybe it would be ready by next Christmas if she was lucky. “Come on, Brains, you know the words, join in.”

“B-but it’s not accurate for our climate,” he argued, never having been one to enjoy a sing-along like some members of the family. “There is never snow on T-T-Tracy Island.”

“That’s not the point, Brains,” she sighed, trying to untangle the yarn that insisted on knotting on her lap rather than in the carefully ordered way it should.

“It’s not?”

“No!” She tossed the scarf, all four wonky rows of it, onto the table, giving up for now before she was tempted to lob it up Thunderbird Two's tail pipe.

“I d-don’t understand,” Brains admitted, something that was very hard for him to do. He was used to being one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, and now, here he was, not understanding a simple thing like this. Maybe he’d been working too hard?

“It’s not about the song, it’s about the meaning behind it,” Grandma explained patiently for what felt like the millionth time that December. “It’s traditional.”

“A song is traditional?”

“Well, yes, but not just the song, it’s the image it portrays. Christmas in my day meant snow, cold weather clothes, wrapping up warm, skating on a frozen lake, then coming inside to drink hot chocolate around a crackling fire and listening to carols on the radio with my mother as we waited for my father to get home. We knew that once he was home the holidays could really start. He worked hard and had very little time off in a year, only every other sunday, two days for Easter and Christmas Day.”

“Kinda like us then,” Alan muttered from his spot on the couch where he had been relaxing before breakfast, playing a handheld game.

“Yes, and because we have none of the weather here or the time off, not that I would want to be anywhere else, but the only thing that really makes it feel like Christmas is the songs. So we’re going to keep the music and you’re all going to like it.”

A new song came on and Grandma sighed happily as Alan groaned as if in pain.

“I love this song, it was one of my favourites,” she stared dreamily at the screen. “Oh, it’s Christmas time, mistletoe and wine. Children singing Christian rhyme. Isn’t he handsome? I wouldn’t kick him out for eating cookies.”

“Grandma!” Alan gasped, shocked to the core, his tone showing his disgust.

“What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t look and do a little window shopping. I’ve got all his albums, including his live concerts, it’s just not Christmas without seeing him on the TV. Here, I’ll show you. Just listen to him some more and I’m sure you’ll learn to love him.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, it’s Christmas.”

“That’s your answer to everything,” Alan grumbled but he put down his game and prepared to do his duty as a grandson.

“I’ll start you off easy with Little Town,” Grandma told him, pressing play.

***

“This comes to pass, when a child is born. When a child is born… oh, oh, o-” Grandma sang along to the fifth song of her playlist when, to Alan’s intense relief, John’s hologram popped up, replacing the music video that had been playing.

“International Rescue, we have a situation,” he started, then paused looking around the room, frowning when he saw only Grandma, Brains and Alan in attendance.

“A situation? Yes! I’ll get Scott and Virg,” Alan cheered, jumping up.

"That's not the reaction I usually get," John observed, wondering what could have brought about that sort of excitement so early in the morning from the brother who liked his sleep the most.

“Never mind that. What have you got?” Grandma asked, all business now, her Christmas spirit in song form now forgotten.

“Guests trapped in an ice hotel in Sweden.”

“Scott! Virgil! It’s safe to come up, the music’s off and John needs us to go to Sweden,” Alan yelled as he clattered down the stairs to the kitchen where the older two were no doubt hiding.

“A what now?” Grandma asked, ignoring Alan.

“An ice hotel,” John repeated. “The hotel was first built in 1990 in the small village of Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, now they rebuild it every year and add to it with a different architect for each room. I’m sure it looks very beautiful when you can actually see it and a freak snow storm hasn't covered the entrance then frozen.” He pulled up a feed to show what must have been the hotel but all that was visible was two large piles of snow.

“What are we looking at, John?” Scott demanded to know, jogging up the stairs with Virgil hot on his heels, Alan bringing up the rear.

John brought up a picture of the ice hotel in its normal glory.

“This is the Winter Heart Hotel in Sweden,” he began. The picture showed a beautiful backdrop of a frosty night with the northern lights visible dancing in the sky behind two pure white domes of snow which were obviously the hotel. They looked like elaborate igloos, connected by covered tunnels and slopes that had formed on the sides with big, wooden looking doors on the front of the domes. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and even though it was clearly freezing cold the whole place looked very welcoming. Little cabins were scattered here and there around the hotel itself, giving the whole scene a picture postcard feel.

“Looks great,” Virgil commented.

“That was it three months ago,” John answered before flicking aside the picture to replace it with the previous image. “This is it as of four hours ago.”

“Woah,” Scott breathed, his eyes tracking over the large mounds of snow that covered the domes so effectively they looked to be nothing but snowy hills. “What happened?”

“Freak snow storm blew in from the arctic circle and dumped around seven feet of snow on the hotel overnight. By the time morning came the fresh snow had frozen solid, trapping a number of high profile guests inside.”

“High profile?”

“The Winter Wonder charity concert happens there every year, people from all over the world pay big money to stay there and not just for the music,” John answered. "It's reported to be an amazing experience but not for the faint hearted. They keep the inside at a constant -5 degrees centigrade, although they do have warm rooms of the hotel such as bathrooms and some bedrooms. They should be fine in there for now, but we obviously need to get them out. The hotel itself has been trying to dig their way through for the past hour. They had a snow plow of their own but it broke a week or so ago and as no snow was forecast they hadn't rushed to replace it.”

“Any casualties?” Virgil asked, already walking across the lounge to his launch chute.

“None reported, apparently they have placated the guests with numerous free drinks and dinner, but unfortunately they are now reported to be getting a little rowdy.”

“Rowdy? Well it won’t do to keep them waiting much longer, will it? I guess we had better hit the skies,” Scott grinned, crossing over to stand in front of the wall where his launch chute was hidden, reaching up to grasp the light fittings that triggered the revolving door. “See you out there!”

“Alan, you're with me,” Virgil called, much to Alan’s delight. He dropped down in one of the bucket seats that would take him or a passenger to Thunderbird Three so he could suit up, grinning like a mad man, happy to be off the island for a few hours.

“I’ll send the coordinates and brief you when you’re airborne,” John told them as they all vanished, his hologram blinking out a moment later.

“Well,” Grandma sighed, turning back to the holoprojector. “Now that they have gone I guess it’s just you and me, Brains.” With a quick flick of her wrist she had turned the music video on, the sound drowning out Brains’ pitiful groan.

***

“Bulldozer Pod is go!”

“Alan, be careful with it!” John warned, his voice echoing around the pod cabin, as the bulldozer shot forward at a much faster speed than was sensible. His hologram popped back into existence to give their littlest brother one of his patented death stares when Alan dared to roll his eyes at him.

“I think I know what I’m doing, it’s just a little snow.”

“No, it’s not just a little snow, if you go too deep or too far you’ll risk taking out one of the walls of the hotel itself. It’ll register as snow, exactly as the rest of it does. Here,” John paused to send through the holographic map overlay he had just finished creating. The overlay settled on top of the map already in front of Alan from the pods scans, then sank down over the snowy mounds, now showing the outline of the buildings.

“Avoid the ice walls, I got it,” Alan assured him.

“Just make sure you pay full attention,” John ordered.

“I’ll be fine, go bug Scott, he’s the one you can’t trust.”

“Unfortunately there isn't just one, I can’t trust any of you,” John sighed and, against his better judgement, left Alan to his own devices.

Alan trundled forward a little slower than before, heeding the warning. He might be excitable but he wasn’t stupid and now that he had a better idea of what he was looking at and supposed to do he could see that he would have to be a little more careful.

As John had said, scans from their equipment were registering nothing but ice and snow, there was no clear definition between what was fresh snow and what had been there before and was part of the building. He could detect life signs deep inside the snow piles, as expected, but they seemed calm enough, their heart rates slow and easy, showing them to be totally relaxed.

He moved the pod closer to the huge wall of snow and maneuvered it into place, his plan being to work in a square, side to side, front to back, moving in closer and closer until the majority of the snow had been removed, allowing Virgil and Scott access to come in with a modified Sherpa Pod. The idea being to use the heat bank element to create what amounted to a high powered hair dryer to defrost the ice that had the guests trapped.

With his first run he plowed a wide path in front of the hotel a good twelve meters away. He checked the map overlay, calculating that he could manage two more full sweeps, working back and forth before he’d be risking getting too close and would have to hand over to his brothers.

Scott and Virgil were configuring the modifications to the Sherpa Pod when John called in to give them an update.

“Alan has removed the snow down to quarter of a meter from the doors, now it’s down to you guys.”

“FAB Thunderbird Five,” Scott answered, swinging up into the passenger seat of the pod. He’d finally grown out of his desire to drive every single vehicle he got into and had learnt that Virgil was, in general, a much more capable pod pilot than he was, although he’d never admit that out loud.

Virgil gave him that look that said he knew exactly what he was doing but, being the more peace loving Tracy, he declined to comment. Instead he climbed effortlessly into the driver's seat and settled in. He carefully guided the vehicle down the module ramp and out onto the snow, ignoring Scott’s impatient huff in response to his sedate pace.

“Slow and steady,” he quoted, knowing that snow was tricky terrain to navigate at the best of times and this wasn’t the time or the place in which to push their luck.

“The danger here is with the hotel itself,” John told them as Virgil made his way across the snow.

“How so?” Scott asked. “I thought the reports said that the hotel was stable.”

“It’s made of the very thing we’re going to be melting,” Virgil answered, checking his instrument readouts as he navigated up and over the snow into the ditch that Alan had excavated.

“Oh, yeah, good point,” Scott conceded. “So what’s the plan?”

“The snow fall isn’t the real problem here, the hotel can take the weight of it easily having been subjected to weight tests to ensure it could retain its structural integrity for these exact reasons,"John answered. "In this case all we need to do is concentrate on freeing the doors, the rest, as long as they take precautions, should be fine to leave in situ.”

“Got it, just the doors,” Scott confirmed.

“You’re going to have to go steady,” John warned. “There’s not a lot of clearance there, Alan has done his best but it’s going to be a delicate operation.”

“Steady is my middle name,” Virgil assured him. “I’ve got it under control. You just concentrate on keeping the hotel employees in the loop.”

“FAB,” John answered, blinking out as quickly as he had come.

Heat bank raised, Virgil worked the controls expertly, taking his time to melt away the snow that was left, being careful to keep it moving and only work on the front of the hotel where the doors should be, following the same map overlay that John had provided for Alan.

Alan, they saw, had done a thorough job, moving the snow far out of the way and was now using the loader and the pod’s caterpillar tracks to tramp down and spread out the snow he’d plowed, eliminating the possibility of the new snow piles posing a danger to anyone.

After only a few minutes of careful work the doors to the main entrance of the hotel began to appear through the snow as it melted away, sliding down the wood. Virgil checked the map one more time, realising that there was little more he could do without risking the ice of the hotel itself.

“I’m gonna have to get my exo-suit and do the rest by hand,” he decided, sounding like he was talking to himself, almost like he had forgotten that Scott was even there. Scott declined to comment, busy watching Alan work, pleased to see that, although the youngest Tracy sometimes had the same kind of offbeat humour as Gordon, he was as competent and sure as ever in his work.

Virgil turned the pod back to the module, not wanting to walk the entire way and, leaving Scott to reconfigure the pod to something a little more manageable for travelling across snow, he got himself into the mechanical suit.

Twenty minutes later a stream of grateful employees and guests came pouring out of the freed doors, all talking at once, jabbering away in excitement at seeing the mighty Thunderbird vehicles up close.

“Please, please come inside,” one waiter gushed, grabbing Scott by the arm and hauling him into the hotel. Virgil glanced at Alan who shrugged, it wasn’t like they couldn't be spared for a little longer. "My name is Felix, please, anything I can do, just tell me."

"It's OK, Felix," Scott started. "We don't need you to do anything…" he trailed off as they stepped inside, their attention instantly taken by their first look at the hotel.

“Woah,” they all breathed in unison, their eyes feasting on the beauty in front of them. They were surrounded on all sides by sparkling, crystal like slabs of ice that formed a lobby area that immediately opened up into an ice bar, a warmly wrapped up waiter behind the bar ready to take their orders. Several guests sat on fur covered ice chairs, sipping from thick glasses that looked to be crystal but were obviously made of ice too.

“This is just...wow,” Virgil’s eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything at once. He slipped his arms out of the exo-suit and allowed the mechanical limbs to fold down alongside the suit against his back. Reaching out a hand he stroked the delicately carved face of an ice maiden, one of the many sculptures that were dotted here and there. “Can I have a look around?”

“Of course,” the waiter, Felix, who had invited them in nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service. “Come, I give you a tour.”

Virgil knew that he must have looked a sight, stomping down the icy walkway with his suit on so, with Scott’s help, he shed it and left his brothers to guard it while he followed the man who had already darted ahead.

Now that he was free of the cumbersome machinery he was able to navigate the icy corridors and smaller walkways with ease. He descended a staircase, again completely made of ice, something he found hard to get his head around as it all looked like crystal, and stepped into a high ceilinged room that sported the most magnificent chandelier he had ever seen.

The ice shards hung down in elegant lines that culminated in three perfectly formed circles. The artist in him was in awe of the work that had gone into creating something that was not only visually stunning but practical at the same time.

Walking through the rooms he saw more exquisite sculptures, fur draped beds in bedrooms that each had a different theme such as under the sea with giant ice jellyfish hanging from the ceiling, clowns, dancers, and solar systems. On the way to the beautiful chapel with its ice shard altar and fur covered pews, he saw a magnificent unicorn that dominated a large part of a hallway. Here and there he saw leaves, animals, birds, faces and flowers, all carved from the ice and snow that made up the hotel. It was, simply put, stunning.

He returned to find Scott and Alan, who had taken up residence in one of the warm rooms with cups of hot chocolate, surrounded by guests. Many of them seemed a little worse for wear after their extended stays in the bar areas where the drinks had been flowing freely in an effort to keep them unaware as to the predicament they had been in.

It seemed that the guests were also fans, their voices carrying that slightly raised, mildly slurred tone that drunk people got, as they peppered the boys with questions.

“We really can’t reveal any of our secrets,” Scott told them, sounding as if he were repeating himself for maybe the twentieth time.

“You eat?” someone popped up behind them and offered a delicious looking burger on a plate.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Scott grinned, reaching to take it. “Thank you.”

Alan and Virgil happily accepted their own plates, diving in to take large bites, eager for some food that hadn’t been cremated by Grandma. Decent food was hit or miss on the island, but everything dished up was met with a general sense of trepidation until the first bite determined its edibility.

“Damn, this is good,” Alan mumbled, his mouth full.

“I’ll say it is,” Virgil agreed, his cheeks resembling hamster pouches as he answered with his mouth full.

"I am glad you like,” Felix smiled, looking rather proud of himself. “They are our speciality, made from our own reindeer.”

Alan choked, his eyes growing wide as he stopped chewing and stared at the burger. Reaching for a napkin he, as politely as possible, spat out the food in his mouth.

Virgil looked a little horrified while Scott just shrugged and kept right on eating. Scott counted himself as a foodie, he would try anything once, or even twice if he was undecided the first time. He had eaten in top restaurants around the world, in little cafes, from carts on the side of the road, anywhere and everywhere that there was food, there was Scott, willing and ready to try it.

“What?” he asked when Alan stared at him in disgust. “It’s a burger, plus it’s good.”

Virgil was obviously fighting some internal war between his stomach and his brain. On the one hand he was hungry and Scott was right, the burger was damn good, but on the other his brain was insisting on conjuring up visions of Santa and his sleigh. In the end his stomach won and he took another bite.

“Virgil!” Alan gasped, making Virgil wince guiltily.

“There’s nothing wrong with the burger, Al. They were good enough to feed us, it would be rude not to.”

Alan, clearly torn between his desire to not be seen as impolite and his desire to not eat Rudolph, was spared from making a decision by a sudden burst of music coming from deeper in the hotel. All three Tracy brothers groaned in unison.

“Is there a problem?” Felix asked, concern etched on his face. Had he given them a bad burger? Food poisoning? Insulted their ancestors? “Anything I can do to thank you, please do say.”

“No,” Virgil assured him. “We just recognised the music, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Felix smiled, clearly relieved. “That is the band beginning a last minute rehearsal and sound check before the concert.”

“Concert?”

Felix pointed to a holographic poster on the wall.

Alan’s eyes widened in recognition and he leant over to whisper to Scott. Scott listened, his eyes widening too as he realised what his little brother meant.

Clearing his throat he made his request. “Maybe there is something you can do for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course! Anything!” Felix gushed, pleased that the high profile Tracy brothers weren’t mad at him.

“Can you get us their autographs?”

Felix grinned, looking even more proud of himself than he had before.

“I can do better than that.”

***

Grandma hadn’t known what to think when Virgil had called home and told her that Scott was on his way back to collect her, telling her only to wear as many warm clothes as she could, but she had done as she was told.

Digging deep into the back of her wardrobe where she kept the clothes that had languished there for more years than she cared to remember, she had dragged out a thick winter coat and a warm top to wear under her customary onesie, along with wooly socks, gloves, scarf and hat.

She was waiting impatiently in the launch bay before Scott had even made it home and was soon comfortably installed in a passenger seat as her eldest grandson whisked her away into the unknown.

Virgil and Alan were there to greet them as they landed, a pair of ice skates in hand and identically proud grins on their faces.

They had spent a pleasant hour or so sliding around on the custom built ice rink. The ice, as with the hotel, had been imported from the nearby Torne River. Grandma was pleased to find that, although slightly rusty at first, she was able to take to the ice with a reasonable degree of competency, much better than that of her grandsons.

Scott was all long limbs and over enthusiasm, trying to go fast straight off the bat and failing spectacularly until he slowed down and figured out how to walk before he ran. Virgil was a little better, adopting the tactic of trying to place his feet carefully, as he would while walking, getting his footing before doing a slow first lap around the outer edge of the rink, gaining confidence the longer he was on there.

Alan it seemed, much to their surprise, had inherited her grace on the ice and took to it easily, executing an almost perfect first lap before streaking off across the ice like a bullet.

Skating gave way to an impromptu snowball fight started by Scott aiming at Alan and finished by Grandma who pelted the troublemakers with snow while Virgil held them in place.

“How about we head inside and grab a warm drink before heading home?” Virgil suggested, shaking the snow off his shoulders, thankful that their uniforms protected them from such a wide range of weather conditions.

“That would be wonderful,” Grandma sighed happily as they walked towards the hotel.

“I want to thank you boys for such a lovely surprise. Much as I love our home it’s been nice to feel snow again and experience an old fashioned Christmas eve again after so long of endless summer.”

“You deserve it,” Scott assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, it was our pleasure,” Alan agreed, holding the still freely swinging door open for her.

Grandma experienced much the same wonder as they had as she enjoyed a tour of the hotel at the hands of the ever accommodating Felix, who had been more than happy to be her guide, showing her all the hotel had to offer.

It was beautiful, a true once in a lifetime winter wonderland of crystalline ice and exquisite sculpture that reminded her of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, her favourite book as a child, when the White Witch had frozen all of Narnia in an endless winter.

Felix was happy to let her wander at her own pace, never trying to hurry her as she explored, her eyes taking in all there was to see. But, eventually, she grew tired and needed to rest, not being as young as her mind would have her believe. She was more than happy to be delivered back to her waiting grandsons with the promise of a hot chocolate in one of the warm rooms.

The function room was beautiful in its simplicity, decorated in a cozy cabin style with insulated fireplaces here and there which gave off no heat but looked perfect in the wood panelled room. There were comfy couches and wooden tables with rings of chairs dotted here and there, all arranged in a semi circle that faced towards the raised platform that was acting as a stage if the instruments there were any indication.

The room was still empty apart from five men sitting around a table, enjoying a quiet drink before the show started. They looked up expectantly when the door opened and the three Tracy boys led their special guest into the room.

Grandma had never been one to be lost for words before but there was a first time for everything and this appeared to be that time. She froze in the doorway, requiring a gentle nudge from Virgil to get her moving again. Her eyes were firmly fixed on one man as he put down his drink and moved towards them, a bright smile of welcome on his face.

“Hi there,” he started, holding out his hand, “I’m Cli-”

“Cliff Richard Jr!” Grandma shrieked, coming out of her starstruck daze to grab his hand between both of hers, yanking it closer, reeling him in for a smothering hug.

“Woah, easy there, Grandma!” Scott laughed as the singer’s arms flailed in shock. “Let the man breathe.”

Alan gently untangled Grandma’s arms from around Cliff, allowing him to back up and regain his freedom.

“So,” Cliff wheezed, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, regaining his composure before he bestowed upon her another dazzling smile. “Am I right in assuming you’ll be staying for the show?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Grandma!” all three boys yelped in shock but, thankfully, Cliff just laughed.

The music might not be to their tastes, in fact for Alan it was akin to torture, but seeing the look of joy on their Grandmother's face made it all worth it.

And wasn't that the true spirit of the season? Taking the time to think about others before you thought of yourself, spreading joy and happiness whenever you could.

Grandma was the heart of International Rescue, the heart of the house and the loving center of their family. She had always gone out of her way to look after them, now it was their turn to give something back to her. Something that she would never, ever forget.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #grandma tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #willow-salix #secret santa 2020 #tag team secret santa

16 notes · View notes

kulaykape · 4 years

Text

Ina Kingsley x MC: Quality Time

Second to last part of this mini-series. The only part of this I'm honestly happy with is the end of it 😂 but that'll have to do.

Hope you enjoy! 💙💙

tags:

@nydeiri, @thepotatobleh

•••

"Just walk with me. Please. If only for a little bit."

"Have fun, kiddo," Aliyah said, leaning down to ruffle Leon's hair, "Be polite to the dads, and clean up after yourself after you guys eat, okay?"

Leon turned to look back and up at Aliyah, through eyes identical to hers. He gave pause as he scrutinized Aliyah intensely, even while his friends ran past him and into the house where they were having a Christmas party. "Are you okay, Ali?" He asked. His voice was small, but sharp.

Aliyah sometimes found it unnerving how smart this kid was. He was too young to be reading people like they were books.

She let out a sigh as she kneeled down, giving him her most convincing 'I'm fine' smile. "I'm great. Really," she insisted when Leon glared distrustfully, "Look, it's not your job to worry, kid. Now go have fun." She gave him a wink and pushed him by his forehead towards the party.

And Leon being a five year-old in spite of it all, didn't need much more convincing than that. With a final wave to his big sister, the little boy ran up the steps and into the house to greet his friends. Aliyah started back down the sidewalk, puffing a cloud into the cold air.

She slipped her phone out to check her texts, skimming through the last three people that had texted her.

Phillie: 'You wanna come get drinks with us, Diaz?'

'Not today, thanks. I'll see you guys at rehearsal.'

Jay: 'Phil said you're not coming with us to the bar. Is everything okay? I'm paying.'

'I'm good, really. Just not feeling it. Make sure Monica drives.'

Aliyah winced while she came to the last message. Was she really showing her 'symptoms' that much?

Monica: 'It's Ina, isn't it?'

Aliyah had stood for a good five minutes, more frozen than the New York air, as she had tried to formulate a reply on the subway.

'Yeah,' she'd ended up with.

Monica: 'Ugh, knew it. This isn't good for you, you know.'

'Woooow. Quit music and be a detective.'

Monica: 'C’mon sis, don’t be like that. I've always got your best interest at heart. But Ina? I'm not so sure.'

Scathing and cold. Monica was good at that when nobody else had the heart to be. Aliyah put her phone back in her coat pocket with a sigh, ignoring the pang in her stomach.

Her friends were never going to tell her it was hopeless, 'cause Aliyah didn't do hopeless. But at this point? She just might start…

When Aliyah got back to her apartment, the first thing she did was throw her jacket on the floor. The second thing she did was flop onto the couch, face-first. No standing back and sighing proudly. No thinking 'damn, how many college students have their own apartment?' per the usual.

"This sucks," she grumbled to herself instead. And it did indeed.

Her brain had been racking itself for something, anything else to think of. But Ina's name just pulsed in her head, and forced its way to the forefront. Think of me! It went.

Her brain didn't want to ignore Ina. Even in the shittiest of times with that damn woman, it refused to still.

Aliyah felt for the necklace that she knew damn well she was still wearing. The metal was cold on her neck. Biting especially in this weather. But Aliyah refused to take it off, and refused to talk about where she'd gotten it from with her friends.

No one could really blame them for asking. The necklace before had been Aliyah's dad's. A memoir not so easily replaced, maybe not ever even meant to be.

Aliyah rolled over to look at the ceiling. "Damn, dad," she muttered, "I'm whipped, man. What the hell am I supposed to do?" Aliyah rubbed her hands over her eyes. "You told me not to fall in love with someone who didn't care about me. Shit, but what do you want me to do now, fall out?" Aliyah scoffed as she grabbed the pillow behind her head and slapped herself in the face with it.

Aliyah's father has been the victim of a very impromptu death when she was fifteen. In life, Aliyah liked to think he was exactly like her. Or rather, she was exactly like him. Smart, thoughtful, and damn good with a pen and paper.

But she wished she wasn't like him like this. Her dad had been a fool for her mom- or rather, as Aliyah liked to call her, her womb donor- until the very end. And that woman had played him like an instrument for just as long.

The worst part was, Aliyah was sure her dad knew her mom was no good. But that love in his eyes hadn't faded even up until the morning he walked out the door and then died on Sixth Street. Was Aliyah really gonna be just like her old man?

A sudden knock on her door interrupted Aliyah's thoughts. She made an irritated sound as she rolled off the couch and stumbled for the door. It was probably Monica, trying to coerce Aliyah into drinking away her feelings for-

…Ina.

Aliyah froze, her hand squeezing the handle of the opened door. A thousand different little voices in her head were screeching in panic at the same time.

Ina stood- albeit a bit nervously- in Aliyah's doorway, brown hair falling over her face and her nose sprinkled with snow. Aliyah's first instinct was to brush her hair away and kiss the snowflakes off, but that clearly wasn't going to happen.

Worry flashed over Ina's eyes as she observed Aliyah. She looked sleepless, disheveled. And Ina was more than aware that it could only be her fault.

"What are you doing here?" Aliyah asked, tone more biting than Ina had ever heard it.

Ina hesitated for a moment, as if she couldn't remember the answer. "I… I wanted to talk to you," she said. Aliyah shifted in disbelief and Ina thought she was going to close the door, so she lurched forward. "Wait! Please, Aliyah," she added, her tone on the edge of begging. Aliyah hated it. Ina didn't beg (well, not like this at least).

"There's nothing to talk about," Aliyah muttered, lying through her damn teeth.

"There's so much to talk about," Ina replied. Aliyah saw her hand move towards hers, and then back down. "You deserve an explanation. The way I've been treating you these past several months, it’s inexcusable," she continued.

"Look Ina, I don't know what you want," Aliyah said, her voice raising, "And maybe you don't either. But I don't think it's the same thing as what I want." And while it hurt her to her very core, Aliyah just wasn't brave enough for this conversation. She began to close the door…

"I care about you, Aliyah," Ina said quietly. Aliyah froze as a ripple of warmth and cold went up her arm and down her spine. She slowly opened the door again, daring to meet Ina's dark brown gaze.

God, she had beautiful eyes. Why was the lord so intent on making this hard for Aliyah?

"I really, truly, do," Ina continued, "And you've made it more than clear that you care about me. Probably more than I deserve." She afforded Aliyah a small smile. "I've spent every spare moment thinking about you. I can't get you out of my head, or the way I hurt you."

Aliyah's instincts were telling her to scurry away from this confrontation. Damn right she hurt you! They said, Now get away before she does it again! But for some reason, she held steadfast.

"Ina, what do you want from me right now?" She asked weakly. There was a side of Aliyah that was witty, sarcastic, and bright. That had all been quickly and soundly stripped away.

Ina took in a deep breath as she stepped ever closer. Aliyah caught a whiff of her perfume, and a wave of safety and familiarity in spite of it all rolled over her.

"Just walk with me. Please. If only for a little bit."

Aliyah bit her lip. Ina stared up at her with wide, sad, and guilty eyes. And how the hell was she supposed to say no to that?

"…Let me grab my coat."

---

At first, Aliyah was worried people from school might spot the two of them walking together down the New York streets. But Ina, a born and bred New Yorker, knew all the sidewalks that were without congestion. They were walking through the more lowkey part of the city now, somewhere the ostentatious and frivolous ranks of Belvoire would never go.

"So…" Ina cleared her throat, "May I ask you something?"

Aliyah shot her a look, and then she just couldn't help herself. "I don't know, may you?" She replied. Her face was void of amusement, but her tone just lacked the edge of seriousness.

A grin spread onto Ina's face. Aliyah's sarcasm was often biting, but it was more than welcomed now. She chuckled softly as they maneuvered around the thin streams of people they passed. "I was just thinking," she began, "I often feel like I know so much, yet at the same time so little about you."

"You don't know a thing," Aliyah replied simply. Ina deflated a bit, her lip pouting out. "But…well, we're doing this, aren't we? You might as well ask what you want to know," she added.

Ina paused to ponder. Lilian had said, if she wanted to be effective in her apology, she had to understand Aliyah. Ina was ashamed to then think about how little she actually knew. And so she resolved to simply start at the beginning.

"When we met at the speakeasy, I could tell you weren't from around here," Ina said, "Perhaps not Bea Hughes level of newness, but not born and raised."

Aliyah shook her head. "No, I'm not from this dump."

Ina smiled amusedly. "Hey, this dump is still my dump, Aliyah." A shadow of that bright and full laugh left Aliyah, but nothing more.

"I grew up further south. A little place called Statesville," she explained, "Honestly, I was a little excited when I heard Hughes was coming from the cornfields. Too bad she turned out to be an ass."

Ina hummed thoughtfully. "Yes. She assimilated to Belvoire's nastier nature very quickly," her hand brushed purposely against Aliyah's, and they met each other's gazes. "You, however, haven't allowed yourself to be so easily changed."

"Of course not," Aliyah said in her biggest 'duh' tone, even while she felt a warmth pooling in her chest.

As the two of them continued their walk, feeling just a little bit of a warm respite even with the cold, Aliyah recognized one of the buildings they strode by. It was the coffee shop she'd always stop by to get Ina something when she was feeling particularly generous.

Ina, as always, was quick to notice a smile on Aliyah's face. "What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing," Aliyah shook her head, then jutted her thumb behind them, "That's where I stop by to get you coffee when I'm feeling nice." Ina followed the line of Aliyah's thumb and smiled.

"You come out this far to get me coffee on those days?" Ina asked. Aliyah was too abashed to nod, instead pursing her lips neutrally. Ina chuckled. "I apologize for any time I reprimanded you for being late," she said.

Aliyah's eyes flicked in an adorably petulant fashion to Ina, and then her lip quirked up. "...Apology accepted."

While Ina had a mini celebration in her head, they turned a corner to an apparently more festive part of the city. Music filtered through hidden speakers, decorations were hung from light posts and shop awnings. Aliyah spotted a mistletoe, and made sure to side-step around it.

Don't you know I…

Sit around,

With my head hanging down…

And I wonder…

Who's lovin' you?

Above all- and Ina knew this better than anything about Aliyah- Aliyah was a musical soul. She looked at Aliyah again as a content smile spread onto her lips and she hummed the lyrics, obscuring a beautiful voice.

This was going much better than Ina had anticipated. She'd been bracing herself for the possibility of Aliyah giving her the Bea Hughes black-eye treatment- which she thought she might kind of deserve- but was relieved to see that wasn't going to be the case.

The weariness had slowly slipped from Aliyah's face, the weight gradually coming off her shoulders. Ina had come to apologize and make up, yes, but seeing Aliyah happy again? That might be even better.

Who's… lovin' you?

"This used to be my song," Aliyah said out of the blue. Ina gazed curiously at her as she seemed to struggle with her next words. "Well… it used to be me and my girlfriend's song," she added.

A pang of unreasonable and yet painful jealousy shot through Ina. She gulped and nodded. "An ex-girlfriend?" She asked.

Aliyah laughed. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. Back in high school," she shot Ina a grin, "I don't know why we chose this song, the lyrics really make it seem like it was never going to last."

Ina didn't want to say 'thank god it didn't', but… well, thank god it didn't.

And it really wasn't her business, but Ina just couldn't help but notice the flicker of fondness in Aliyah's eyes she knew wasn't reserved for herself. "What was she like?" She then asked.

A pensive look passed over Aliyah's face. "Well, she was a lot like me. Maybe too much. And it was a great thing to have then, but probably another reason we flopped as a couple," she laughed, a bit sadly, "And she loved music. We were both in the singing club at our school, and she'd help me figure out how I wanted the songs I was writing to sound. She's the one that taught me how to play guitar, actually."

"It sounds like she was perfect for you," Ina found herself saying mindlessly. Aliyah turned to look at her, and once again found herself giving pause to just appreciate Ina's beauty.

And in spite of everything, she knew damn well the soul beneath there was twice as gorgeous.

"No," she said simply. "Ina, you have to understand that the me you know now isn't same person I was in high school."

Ina couldn't help a laugh. "I would hope not," she replied. Aliyah grinned, teeth shining.

"The thing is, I grew up. I started to care about my future, started to expand my world beyond just music. And I had to take care of my little brother," Aliyah winced a little bit, "Jessie… didn't understand any of that."

"Didn't grow up?"

Aliyah shook her head. "Jessie grew up in Belvoire-level privilege. She couldn't comprehend that some people have responsibilities outside of a relationship… she also couldn't comprehend the concept of loyalty either, I guess," she said.

Ina's jaw clenched. "She cheated on you?" Aliyah nodded. And Ina racked her brain as to explain why the hell anyone would cheat on the woman before her.

"She told me 'it was fun while it lasted' before she skipped off with some Broadway-hopeful girl. I think she's in some prestigious music school in California right now," Aliyah said. Used, she thought, And you're gonna do it all over again, aren't you, Ali?

"I'm so sorry, Ali," Ina said, genuine sympathy written all over her face. She felt a sting in her stomach when she saw the glazed-over look in Aliyah's eyes. It was the same look she'd had on her face when she left her office.

Aliyah scoffed. "Don't apologize. You had nothing to do with that," she replied. Ina felt the pang as she picked up on the invisible words.

The two of them were quiet for a long moment, too caught up in their own thoughts to worry about any tension between them. Ina's hand brushed Aliyah's as they swung while they walked, and Aliyah turned to look at her.

"Did you love her?" Ina asked all of a sudden.

Aliyah paused for a moment. To her surprise, the question didn't scare her, even when coming from Ina, no less. She gave a small nod. "She was my first. My first everything," she replied, "I don't completely know why, but it still hurts. Not 'cause I miss her, I hate her ass now." Ina let out a strangled snort while Aliyah smirked. "But… maybe it's because I miss feeling that way."

The two of them turned to look at each other at the same time, and then quickly looked away.

"When we were just starting out, we had everything that the other wanted," Aliyah continued, "But I started changing. I didn't want everything so fast, and powerful, and just so energized." She shot Ina a sheepish smile. "Call me a squishy romantic, but I wanted something softer. Something that was more '2010 Bruno Mars' than '2020 Bruno Mars', you know?"

Ina laughed softly. "There's nothing wrong with that at all," she said, "As we grow older, we start to grow out of our more… savage desires."

"Well... not completely, though…" Aliyah murmured. She nudged Ina's shoulder, drawing a hearty laugh from the Professor as she pushed a curl of hair behind her ear.

"Of course not," Ina replied, "But you've had to practically raise your little brother. You've had to live on your own. You've seen so many different sides of the world, and you know what's out there for you now."

And Ina couldn't lie, she loved that about Aliyah. She hid her worldliness under sarcasm and curiosity, but it was there. In some ways, Ina wouldn't be surprised if Aliyah was much smarter than her.

"The reason so many of your peers only fool around and party is because they think that's all there is," Ina continued, and then shot Aliyah a smile. "But you know better. And that means you'll get to spend more of your life with meaning than they will."

Aliyah hummed. "That'll only be true if the right person comes around."

"It's doesn't have to be just about a person, Aliyah," Ina replied.

Aliyah gave Ina a wordless look. Ina didn't know if it was anger, or sadness, or pain that was shaded behind her gaze.

"It is for me."

---

(There's a limit on text blocks, apparently 💀. Pt. 2 can be read on my page, since idk how to fookin link)

#ina kingsley #queen b #professor kingsley #ina x mc

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Start of Time: 9/9

Here it is! The end of this journey! This has always been a gift for @teamhook, and my dear, I hope this ending brightens your day after all you have been through! I always knew this was where it would lead, with these exact bits of dialogue inspired by the song by Gabrielle Aplin that you shared with me. I even incorporated some lines from the song into the closing scene for you. Sending you lots of love, my friend!

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: Alice Jones appears in this fic and Alice and Henry are both Killian’s adopted children with Milah. Henry isn’t Emma’s. Positive past Millian. No Neal.

Words: about 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4@jennjenn615 @kday426 @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree@whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @distant-rose@shireness-says @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @welllpthisishappening @stahlop @hollyethecurious @ekr032-blog-blog @scientificapricot @wellhellotragic @vvbooklady1256 @sherlockianwhovian @superchocovian @nikkiemms @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @ohmakemeahercules

It was awkwardly silent in the elevator. Honestly, it had been awkwardly silent the majority of the time between her and Walsh ever since she got home. Yet it seemed to hang even heavier between them since the doctor’s appointment earlier.

The elevator stopped at her floor, and the ding when the doors opened only punctuated the silence. Emma dug in her purse for her keys, and wished like every other time Walsh rode up with her how to politely send him away. He hadn’t pushed her for anything physical - mostly. He just whined like an oversized baby about it, constantly asking her when things would get back to normal.

In that sense, today’s appointment was almost a relief.

“Well, thanks for walking me up,” Emma told him as she grasped her keys.

Walsh gave her a smile that he must have thought was charming. It wasn’t.

“Come on now, Emma, you can’t let your fiance in for a few minutes?”

She pressed her hand firmly to his chest as he leaned in. “You’re not my fiance.”

“Of course I am. You just don’t remember.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, first of all, you heard the doctor today. Chances are, I won’t ever remember.”

“Chances is the word. You heard him, there’s always a chance. Especially if I jog your memory.”

He went to put his arms around her, and for the first time, Emma had to shove him off. It sent her heart beating erratically, and not in a pleasant way. It also sent anger flaring through her veins.

“God, do you even listen to me?” she shouted. She had tried so hard since she got back to New York to cooperate, hoping that following the lead of Walsh and Regina would bring her memories rushing back. Now she was sick of it.

“Actually I do,” Walsh snapped, “which is why I know you aren’t even trying to remember.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You act like I’m doing this on purpose. And no, you don’t listen, because I wasn’t finished. Second, I don’t have a ring, Walsh.” Emma waved her hand in front of him.

“People don’t need a ring to get engaged.”

“I also listened to your message,” she bit out. “You proposed, but I never accepted. You may not need a ring, genius, but the girl has to actually say yes.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Well, I am now.”

Walsh blinked. “Emma, seriously, this isn’t you.”

“No Walsh, it is me! Maybe this whole experience has changed me, maybe I’ll never fully remember who I was before, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have always been hesitant to marry you.” Emma pressed her fist, still clutching her keys, to her chest. “I know you and Regina keep treating me like a wounded puppy, but I do remember some things clearly. I was getting away to Maine because I was stressed and confused. I was unsure of so many things, including us.”

Walsh’s face fell, as if he were finally beginning to understand. “But I thought we were so good together.”

Emma was able to smile at him. She stepped closer, and laid a hand on his arm. “You were comfortable - safe. Being with you didn’t risk my heart because my feelings were on the surface. Your proposal brought all of that into focus.”

“So what you’re saying is, you were always going to say no.”

Emma nodded, truly feeling sorry for Walsh for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember our first date or how we met, but I do remember that.”

Walsh nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. He gave her a platonic hug, and Emma accepted it. Then he walked away from her, and when the elevator doors closed behind him, Emma sagged with relief against her door.

The phone in her jacket pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out to see text messages from her bandmates pop up one after another.

How did the appointment go? - Elsa

Did the doctor have good news? Are you getting your memories back? I’m dying with worry here! - Anna

Calling to check on you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but have you dumped Walsh yet? - Ruby

I wanna hear more about this hot vet you were snowed in with. And don’t tell me he wasn’t hot, I can read between the lines. - Ruby

Emma smiled as she scrolled through the messages. It was strange the way a brain injury worked. The moment she walked through her front door and saw her three best friends waiting for her, memories had flooded her. She didn’t remember anything but confusing feelings where Walsh was concerned, she couldn’t remember this supposed solo career Regina kept going on about, but she did remember these three amazing women. She couldn’t remember performing, but memories had returned of the times they spent together both on the road and before they hit it big. She also remembered the words to every single one of their songs. The doctor had explained to her that the brain was a complex organ. His theory was that she had retained her emotional memories, but not the details of her life.

Bizarre didn’t begin to cover it.

Emma locked the door behind her, toed off her shoes, and dropped her keys in the catch all by the door. She collapsed onto a couch that was too hard in a room that was too cold. The view of the city skyline outside her window seemed foreign. With a sigh, she moved to her bedroom, shooting off texts to her friends as she went. She slipped into a pair of comfortable pajamas, collapsed onto her bed, and grabbed the tv remote.

This was apparently her life, and she simply had no idea what to do with it.

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

“Checkmate!” Liam crowed with satisfaction, but his face fell when he looked across the chess board to find Killian staring absently at the chess pieces. “Little brother? I beat you. Again.”

Killian sighed and knocked over some of the pieces in frustration. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

Liam frowned. “This is still about Wendy, isn’t it?”

“Emma,” Killian corrected him as he ran a hand wearily down his face, “her name is actually Emma. Emma Swan.” His hand dropped to his lap, and he studied his brother warily. “And please spare me the I told you so.”

Liam leaned back, both hands lifted in the air in surrender. “I’m not going to say that, trust me. This is a situation where I hate being right.”

Killian arched a brow. “My brother? Hates being right? Who are you and what have you done to my real brother?”

“Haha, very funny. Seriously though, I liked her. I liked how happy you were when she was here. If the situation had been different -”

Killian cut him off. “But it wasn’t. She has a life, a career, a fiance somewhere else. God, I was such a fool.”

“No, you weren’t. You were generous in offering your home to her. I was wrong, Killian. You did the right thing. I can’t believe I was so callous towards her.”

Killian drummed his fingers on the table as he regarded Liam. “You never seem to realize what an ass you’re being to the women in my life until it’s too late.”

Liam leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fisted hands. “With Milah, you’re right. When you adopted Henry, I still gave her hell. I worried a child was just another novelty to her. But then she was such a wonderful mother, then you got Alice, and . . . .”

Liam trailed off with a long sigh. Killian’s brow furrowed in shock.

“I thought you didn’t soften towards her until she got sick. Why didn’t you say anything? Try to mend things with her?”

“You know how bloody stubborn I am. I’m sorry, Killian, I would do it all differently if I had the chance.”

“I know.” Killian could never stay angry at his brother for long. He loved him too much.

“Besides, who says it's too late with Wendy - I mean Emma. She may be missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”

Killian absentmindedly picked up a pawn and twirled it between his fingers. “Doubtful. She’s a bloody rock star, for God’s sake.”

“The kids miss her too, don’t they?” “Aye.”

“She said she’d keep in touch.”

“People always say that. Then they never do.”

“Give her time. None of this can be easy.”

Killian was about to counter that Emma had no reason to think of them now that her memories had most likely returned, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. He gave his brother a confused look. It was late, and the kids were already asleep. Who could possibly be knocking? He hurried to the door, looked through the keyhole, then swore under his breath to find the view blocked by greenery. Alice had made a wreath for the door, and he couldn’t see a damn thing past her handiwork. He wrenched the door open, expecting it to be a local farmer with a livestock emergency.

It wasn’t a farmer.

“Emma,” he breathed in awe.

She smiled, and it was like the sun came out.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you call me that.”

Killian chuckled as he scratched behind his ear. “Well, I’m a bit embarrassed that I didn’t

recognize you. Let’s just say it’s mostly Radio Disney around here. And something about K-Pop which I don’t really -”

“I was never engaged,” Emma blurted out.

“Oh?”

Emma twisted her hands nervously and shrugged. “He proposed, but I never accepted.” She trailed off, her gaze darting to her feet. “It felt important for you to know that.”

“There’s no need to explain,” he told her gently. “I’m just glad you’re getting your memories back.”

“I’m not,” she said, her gaze flying back to lock on his.

“What do you mean?”

She bit on her lower lip. “I mean, I don’t have my memories back. I remember bits and pieces, feelings mostly.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Look, there’s something I just gotta say, alright?”

Killian nodded. He’d been sort of speechless anyway since he opened the door.

She licked her lips nervously before plunging in. “The doctors say I might never get my memories back. Not all of them, anyway. But I’m okay with that because what little I remember either isn’t that great or it’s fantastic.” She winced as she closed her eyes for a second. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “but I’m still listening.”

She returned his smile with a wobbly one of her own. “Right. So, I remember that I was a foster kid. I must have been since I was a baby because that’s all I remember. I don’t remember any of the places I lived or who I lived with. All I remember is that I never had a home.”

His heart broke for her and the sheen of tears in her eyes, but he didn't interrupt.

“I remember I ran away all the time. I just figured that when you really have a home, when you leave, you just miss it. So my whole childhood, I just kept running waiting to feel that, but I never did. Then I found my band. And I got to keep running, on the road you know? But it was okay because my family was running with me. I think that’s why they’re the only people I remember. Except -”

She paused, and a look of fear flashed over her face. He took a step closer and took her hand. “Except?” he prompted.

“Except you. And the kids.” She winced again, shaking her head and laughing. “Not that I wouldn’t remember you, I mean I met you after. What I’m trying to say is . . . I miss you. When I left here, I missed it all so much. My band - the people in it - were home, but that was ending. And then I met you - and Alice and Henry. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like my life got a reset that day you found me. I want to start time, right here. With you.”

Killian searched her face, scarcely daring to believe this was real. He reached up with a shaking hand and traced her jaw with his finger.

“What about your career?” he asked softly. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was in a vulnerable place.

She smiled at him as a single tear slipped down her face. “I never wanted that career. I loved the band - the people, I mean. But not the performing or the limelight. I just want to play and write songs on my guitar. I can do that anywhere.”

He let hope expand his heart for the first time. He cupped her face with both hands, catching her tear with his thumb.

“Stay with me?” he asked her.

Emma’s eyes crinkled at the force of her smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Killian bent slowly to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She sighed and tilted her head, allowing him more access. He threaded his fingers through her soft hair as his tongue lazily explored her mouth. Emma pulled back and smiled with such blinding happiness, he could hardly take it in. Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she captured his lips again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He never wanted to let her go.

I'm an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine. Maybe we could be the start of something. Be together at the start of time.

Rolling Stone Magazine - Two Years Later:

. . . The Grammy’s this year brought one big surprise: Emma Swan Jones, former member of the female rock band Wendy Sewed it On, took home the Song of the Year award for penning Ruby Lucas’s number one smash hit “The Song in Your Heart.” The romantic power ballad was a slight departure for the normally angst-filled alternative rock Swan-Jones was known for when she was part of Wendy Sewed it On. Yet her new hyphenated last name along with her acceptance speech may give her fans a hint for the change. In her speech, she thanked “my true love, my husband Killian. Words can’t say enough how much you mean to me or how you’ve inspired me. I wouldn’t have this award without you, babe.” Judging by the baby bump she was proudly showing off beneath her Elie Saab couture gown on the red carpet, Emma Swan Jones is very happy with her man which may mean more romantic ballads from her in the future . . .

#cs ff #cs modern au #snowed in #start of time #daddy killian #amnesia #knightrook #angst #pining #for teamhook

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 3 years

Text

Along Tides of Light - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - the rescue of Liara T'Soni as told by a very thirsty (and also dehydrated) asari maiden. https://www.patreon.com/posts/53939916 ===== The stasis field around her hums and buzzes. Unlike modern biotics or artificial barriers, it produces no smell of ozone. Too well tuned, perhaps. Too efficient. As perfect in the mechanism as it is in the spherical shape.

The krogan they sent with the geth stomps down the gangway, carrying something over his massive

shoulders. Purple droplets fall to the white deck before fading on the unstainable, self-healing alloy the Protheans use. It is still snow-white fifty thousand years after whatever caused this place to be abandoned.

He dumps his load with a dismissive grunt. The body of Emyni Jaega tumbles to the plating, the left side of her face a rotting, charred gap and her vivid teal skin almost black with discoloration and decay. Liara's friend. Her mentor in field work. "Files say this one had a krogan father," her tormentor huffs. "Guess that's why the bitch got a piece of me."

He taps a crater dug deep into the bone-plates of his forehead, one of the few parts of a krogan that never heals. Warpfire has ripped apart the bones atom by atom, down to the pale layers closest to the skin. A few centimeters more and the forelobes of his brain would have melted.

He kicks the body out of his way and it tumbles off the platform, landing with a thud somewhere below.

Don't cry, Liara reminds herself. Don't spit at him. Don't use your biotics. You can't spare the water.

"She did," Liara replies. "And her wife is ten times the krogan you are! After I pull your vast'kak from your spine, I will give them to her for a grave-trophy. She can chase down your pups by their sire's stink."

"Hah!"

He waggles a giant finger at her and pulls a hunk of charred varren meat out of a bag on his hip.

"I like you."

He keeps talking, but she's too exhausted to piece together the words.

=====

A bang that reverberates through the cavern jars Liara from the half-sleep she had been languishing in. Dragging her eyes open, she sees a pair of the pale gray geth slam into the barrier field clad in ice blue biotic fields. The machines twitch and chirp and struggle until two shots ring out, striking each through the optical housing on the head and stilling them instantly.

"Hello!" Liara calls out, not even sure she's making any sound dragging air over her aching tongue. "I'm trapped! I need help."

"Doctor T'Soni, I presume?"

With a hiss of recaptured air, the huntress removes her helmet.

"Goddess."

Rather than scaled crests and Serrice Guard tattoos or a House T'Soni diadem of rank, the helmet reveals a human woman with pink skin dusted with tawny speckles, eyes the dangerous green of tideglass shards in the moonlight and hair like a blast of wildfire: messy, red and curling.

"You're human."

The sob rushes up her chest and out her throat. She shakes her till her body aches.

"Commander," the quarian murmurs. "She's dehydrated. Badly. She's delirious like I would be after a suit failure."

"Place reeks of Garatog. Been stuck in the field a long time. Tough little pyjak," the krogan rumbles.

"Less chatter, more options. I need her out of that field and patched up."

=====

Hands pry her lips open--none too gently--and Liara thrashes, flinging what biotics she can. A stasis field clamps tight around her body, stilling her below the neck.

"Easy! I'm not going to hurt you. It's just water. Here."

Liara forces her eyes open despite the way the light stabs at them. Something thin and plastic pokes at her lips. A straw, she finally realizes, with the other end jammed into what looks like a huntress's ration tube except for the lack of the Asari Republic's sigil on the plastic. She takes it between her lips and lets her rescuer squeeze eezo-infused water into her aching mouth.

"Gotta go slow on the water, sorry. Don't want to shock your system."

Her focus ebbs and flows but when she can make herself see and think clearly, she finds herself staring into those dark green eyes and watching the damp curls of hair move along the sweat-slicked skin and wondering how long it would take to count every freckle and if freckles are permanent on humans, or if they can be sucked from the skin and Goddess, Liara, get a hold of yourself and wishing she could ignore how firm and steady the hand supporting her head is, like a pillar of stone even as it cradles her crests without a whisper of pressure on the inflamed tissue.

=====

Liara opens her eyes to the inside of an auto-medical pod. The clamshell is half open and the lights are dimmed--truly a mercy--and her vitals are displayed on one of the interior screens. On a chair next to her is a human woman with silver hair, a few tiny wrinkles around each eye, and a kind smile. She rests her gloved hand over Liara's and squeezes gently.

"You're a doctor?"

"Dr. Karen Chakwas, chief medical officer of the SSV Normandy."

"Thank you," Liara croaks. She doesn't have to be a medical doctor to know that her blood levels of eezo, sodium, and tungsten are more suited to a mummified corpse than an asari maiden.

The doctor's omnitool pings.

"And that's the commander asking for an update on you. I think I'll lie, give you a couple hours more rest. How's that sound?"

Liara can't manage to thank her before she falls asleep.

=====

The man reaches his hand out in a gesture Liara doesn't understand, shrugs, and pulls it back.

"Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, by the way. I'm the MCO here. Sorry. Marine Command Officer. Means I'm in charge of keeping all these fine men and women in the metal suits ready to go."

Liara hazards a sip of the liquid. It's bitter and slightly spiced and she can taste eezo in it. She smacks her lips, trying to place the flavor.

"Closest I could get to kaffe. Columbian from the commander's stash, cinnamon and some granulated honey."

She sets the cup down hurriedly.

"I...I couldn't possibly."

Kaidan chuckles.

"I'm pretty sure Skipper would kick my ass if I hadn't offered you the good stuff. Please, enjoy. For my safety if nothing else."

Kick his ass? Is that an idiom?

=====

An image flashes unwanted through Liara's brain. Sinew hard as silver-pink riverstone of the old quarries near Armali, carved into arms that lift her up with ease. Hips leaned forward, pinning her body against the cold steel of a bulkhead. Tongue dancing between the neck-folds, fingers pressing into the bundles behind the sil'atr and pinching at the tips, where the skin is firm and can take that abuse.

Making her body weep salt and eezo, running in rivers around her fingertips.

Would it be like an azure? Would Shepard want my fingers in it? My tongue? Goddess, would I even know how to pleasure her?

Heat crawls up her neck folds to her cheeks. She wishes the table wasn't so shiny because she can see her skin going violet with embarrassment.

#mass effect #liara t'soni #female shepard #shiara #liara x femshep #thirsty #asari

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shining-red-diamond · 4 years

Text

Trick or Treat, Revenge is Sweet

Words: 1k

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: slight angst, but mostly fluff (in a sense), mostly humor

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, vandalism, mentions of illness and bullying, and some language

A/N: This was inspired by a story time from @/HeyParis on YouTube. I also gave a name to the antagonist.

Fumed.

That’s all Y/N was feeling at that moment. Tanya had humiliated her for the last time, and in front of Felix, too. Typically, Y/N would let it go, but after crossing the line by bringing up her sick father, she nearly snapped. Felix already knew about Y/N’s situation, but he did his best to help her out. However, he thought Y/N was going to beat up, and he held her back.

“Such a good little boyfriend you are, Phillip,” Tanya scoffed.

“It’s Felix,” he huffed.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I’m having a Halloween party at my house tonight. Everyone on campus is invited if they wanna come, and that includes you two. But I understand if you have other priorities.”

Y/N had always gone to Tanya’s parties in attempt to make some friends, and she had mangaed to make a few, mainly because they hated going to Tanya’s parties to feel that they’ve done something wild. Tanya’s parties always started out calm, but they always ended up with someone or some people getting overly drunk and other shenanigans that happen. Y/N and her friends typically left early after the first round of shots were passed out.

However, Y/N was beginning to hatch a plan.

“There’s also gonna be a costume contest,” Tanya continued as she played with her brunette locks. “Best costume wins a hundred bucks.”

“It actually sounds like fun,” Y/N nodded. “Since I’m not in the mood to beat your ass anymore, I think I’ll come.”

Tanya looked at Y/N as if waiting for another sarcastic remark, but then smiled in a fake manner.

“Party starts at eight,” she said just before turning to walk away.

“We’re going,” Y/N confirmed as she watch the Wicked Witch strut away.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked.

She turned towards him and exhaled. “I’m not afraid of her. She can put on a ‘nice girl’ an act all she wants, but we know the truth.”

“What are you going to do? Attempt to embarrass her in front of everyone? I think she’s wear a dress to the party, so the only thing you’d do is somehow rip it with out her noticing.”

Y/N shook her head.

“What plan are you hatching?” Felix asked as he stepped forward.

“I’ll tell you when you come over to get ready for tonight.”

Taking one final look at herself in the mirror, Y/N felt like she could rule the world. She was dressed in a black, long-sleeve crop top, a black, plaid skirt with some silver chains on it, and she also wore a pair of black wings. Her makeup was dark, but nothing too intimidating. The thigh high boots she wore made her feel powerful.

Felix was dressed as dressed similarly but without the wings. He was dressed as a rock star with a Led Zeppelin shirt on.

His arms slid around Y/N’s waist, and he kissed her cheek. “You are stunning, my love,” he whistled.

“Is this Lee Yongbok or Kurt Cobaine?” I chuckle.

“I was going for a more Billie Joe Armstrong look,” he whined.

“Here.” Y/N grabbed some eyeliner and turned in her boyfriend’s embrace. She got to work, and in about two minutes Felix’s eyes were much more dramatic with the smudged black eyeliner.

“Perfect,” she giggled.

Felix kissed her once, careful not to smear her lipstick. When he pulled away, he asked, “Are you sure your plan will work?”

Y/N nodded. “By the time we’re done, Tanya will be too wasted to know she was set up.”

Once she grabbed two tubes of lipstick, she and Felix headed out the door and began their hike to Tanya’s house.

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” Felix asked after walking two blocks.

“You’re acting like I’m gonna go full-on WWE on her,” Y/N scoffed. “I’m just going to embarrass her, and then I’m not messing with her anymore.”

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

She knew it was only petty revenge, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She wanted Tanya to have a taste of some of her own medicine. For a little while, at least, Y/N wanted some ease.

Hand in hand, the couple finally reaches Tanya’s front porch, music blaring from the inside as if they could shatter her windows at any moment. Once the approached the front door, Felix rang the doorbell, and Tanya, dressed as a sexy angel, answered almost immediately.

“So you decided to come,” she giggled before losing her balance a bit. Y/N could immediately smell the alcohol on her foe’s body. “You two have fun, but be mindful of the…um…fruity drinks. I think someone poured a little bit of Captain Morgan in it.”

Tanya hobbled away to who knows where, and Felix and Y/N entered the house. It was large and beautiful, no doubt, and Y/N sometimes wished she lived in such luxury; however, she liked her home the way it was. Lights were bouncing off the walls, the entire interior were decorated to the nines in cute Halloween decorations, and everyone there was dressed as various characters or objects.

“So do you want to start?” Felix raised his voice over the loud speakers.

“Not yet,” Y/N replied. “I’m gonna wait until ten. People will either be drunk or making out in different hiding spots.”

“Oi, Felix!” a voice from behind them called. It was his friend Chan, who was dressed up like Ghostface for the night.

“Meet me in the upstairs bathroom in an hour,” she instructed.

The two went their separate ways, and for that hour Felix had fun with his friends from his soccer team. Y/N hung out around the snack and drink area speaking to people she knew. She wasn’t one for alcohol, so she stuck with sipping on soda for the night. The party itself was wild already, the music loud enough to cause a plane crash. More guests were starting to get drunk or disappear to various parts of the house. Tanya was acting more and more giggly and childish as the hour went by.

“I’m an absolute angel,” Tanya praised herself drunkenly to her friends at one point. “I am as pure as freshly fallen snow.”

“Snow that’s been pissed on,” Y/N mumbled as she sipped on her drink, causing a few guys next to burst into laughter.

When she checked her watch, it was five minutes until she and Felix would meet upstairs. After disposing her cup, she made the ascent, putting a little swagger in her step. Her brain couldn’t register why, but she felt powerful. She turned her head to signal for Felix, but he was already trailing behind her.

The two entered the designated bathroom and turned on the lights. The wallpaper was an ugly green pinstripe, and the marble counter wasn’t helping it either. The only decent pieces were the porcelain tub and framed artwork on the walls.

“So, what’s your plan for here?” Felix asked as he closed the door.

Y/N reached into her purse and pulled out the two lipsticks she had.

“Bathroom’s a bit ugly,” she sneered as she handed Felix one of the lipstick tubes. “How about we decorate it a little?”

“Is this part of your plan?”

“No, I just thought of this last minute.”

With a smirk on her face, she and Felix both began their artwork on the bathroom walls. Felix drew and wrote whatever his heart desired, and Y/N just doodled hearts everywhere. This went on for about twenty minutes, Felix managing to stand on the toilet seat to write “Trick ‘r Treat” near the ceiling.

When they finished, they decided to do make murals in the other bathrooms in the house. This continued until both lipstick tubes were empty, and neither of them got any marks on their costumes.

“Is this where your real plan begins?” Felix asked after they disposed the lipstick tubes.

Y/N said nothing but pulled out her phone and called the nearest police department. They stayed in the current bathroom they were in and locked the door while she dialed the number, making sure she used the star-six-seven method.

After someone picked up, Y/N ignited her scheme.

“Hi, this is Jennifer Barbara,” she used a fake voice. “And my neighbors next door, and absolutely loud. I have four children under the age of six, two of them have school in morning; and my husband has work in the morning. You need to come shut this down, please. It’s ridiculous. Listen.”

She held her phone to the door, which she had opened to increase the volume of the thumping music. The woman on the other end agreed to send the police over immediately.

Knowing where they lived, it was going to take the police at least twenty-five minutes to arrive; so Y/N lead Felix back out towards the snack and drink bar. A few more people where already drunk out of their minds at that point, and the party started getting a little crazier.

“A glass of Captain Morgan,” Y/N told the bar tender, and he was happy to pour her a glass. “Thanks.”

“That’s it?” Felix asked as she took her glass.

“Follow me.”

Felix obeyed, and she led him to where the deejay was jamming out to the music he was playing. He notices the two and gives them a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention to two other women who showed up next to him.

Felix did dance a bit as Y/N just bounced to the beat while pretending to drink her beverage. After a while, there was a banging on the door.

“Right on queue,” Y/N smirked.

Tanya’s boyfriend answered the door, and as Y/N planned, three officers were at the door. The music was still going while the boyfriend and now Tanya were arguing with the police while Billie Eilish’s “bad guy” was playing in the background.

“Party’s not over!” he announced to the rest of people there.

We’ll see about that, Y/N thought as the line “I’m the bad guy sounded.”

As soon as she was sure the deejay wasn’t looking, Y/N took a sip of her Captain Morgan and dumped it in a manner that looked accidental on the equipment. The deejay’s workspace sparked a little, but it mainly blew the speakers out. Fire wasn’t lit, but there was smoke. The party guests immediately started shouting in complaint and running around in panic.

After getting rid of the glass, Y/N and Felix quickly exited the main living room and out to the front patio. The two of them were both roaring with laughter as a few people were starting to exit the house, some of them a little too buzzed to sense what direction they were going.

After catching their breaths, they decided to head to a diner for a late night snack.

“You scare me sometimes, Y/N,” Felix commented as they walked to her house for her car. “But since it is still Halloween for another hour and a half, I’ll let it slide.”

“I’m not doing that again,” Y/N sighed. “If Tanya does figure out it was me that did all of that, then I’ll help her pay for damages.”

Y/N had grabbed the wizard’s wand in her little gamble, and she felt really good. However, she still felt a little bad for ruining someone’s party, even if it was someone she deemed as Lucifer. Her dad would want her to help out with anything.

She looked back at the scene they left. More people were leaving the property, and officers were still getting everyone to clear out. Tanya and her boyfriend were still dealing with an officer, but she had cuffs on her wrists.

Y/N couldn’t help the smirk that was coming back to her face.

“Trick or Treat, you she-devil,” she muttered victoriously.

Tags: @burberrylucas @daybreakx @cloudychannieee @barsformars @starsandsoul @hyyunjins @mafia-nct

#districtninewriters #kwritersworldnet #kpopuniversenet #thekpopnetwork #kpopficsnetwork #skz #stray kids #skz felix #lee felix #lee yongbok #felix x reader

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