#but mostly fluff
Text
Understand
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
E/R, modern AU.
Enjolras wove expertly through the crowded bar, having done this far too many times, especially recently. He saw the man he was looking for half-slumped at the bar, a row of empty shot glasses in front of him, and Enjolras sighed heavily.
Grantaire spotted him as he approached, and even now, even after everything, Grantaire’s entire expression lit up as he did. “Enjolras!”
His smile was wide and wicked, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the bar, but even his ebullient greeting couldn’t quite hide the fact that he slurred a little on Enjolras’s name. Enjolras pursed his lips, just slightly. After the fight that they’d had, he had fully expected Grantaire to drink his cares away, but Grantaire seemed long past the point of cares.
“C’mon,” Grantaire said, patting the barstool next to him. “Sit. Drink. You’re a few behind.”
It occurred to Enjolras, as Grantaire tugged him onto the barstool next to his and slung an arm around his shoulders, that he hadn’t seen Grantaire this drunk in quite a while. Drinking, sure, even tipsy, but since the first time they’d stumbled back to Enjolras’s together, Grantaire’s drinking had never reached this level.
Which was definitely not a good sign.
Grantaire propped his chin on his hand and smiled at Enjolras. “So what’re you drinking?” he asked, his voice too loud. “Shots? You wanna do shots, Apollo?”
“No thanks,” Enjolras said, nodding to the bartender and muttering, “Water, for both of us.”
Enjolras gave him an even look. “I think you’ve probably had enough fun for the both of us,” he said firmly, pressing one of the glasses of water in Grantaire’s hand. “Drink this and then I’m taking you home. It’s been a long day.”
Grantaire snorted and rubbed a hand across his face, his smile disappearing in an instant. “It has been a long day,” he agreed, looking and sounding exhausted. “Long day, long week, long month…” He trailed off and forced a smile back on his face as he leered at Enjolras. “Long boyfriend, if you know what I mean.”
He tipped an enormous wink at him, and Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Normally the lecherous thing works for me, but not here, not now.”
The smile again slid off of Grantaire’s face. “Then what do you want, Enj?” he asked, sounding tired and upset and everything Enjolras had expected when he had gotten Bossuet’s text advising him that Grantaire seemed to be attempting to drown himself in vodka. “You want to dissect every single thing you said to me during our fight this morning? Because I already did that somewhere around drink 4. You want to ask me why I picked a fight in the first place when everything seemed to be going so well? That was the topic of conversation at drink 6. Oh, or perhaps you’d like to remind me that you expect more of me, or at the very least, you expect me to pretend like I care – oh look, I beat you to it.”
His voice had grown in volume as he had gone on, and Enjolras winced at the vitriol in his words, acutely aware that people were beginning to stare at them. “Keep your voice down,” he told Grantaire, aiming to keep his own voice calm and soothing, but Grantaire clearly wanted no part of it.
“What, are you embarrassed by your drunk, loser boyfriend?”
Grantaire practically flung the words in Enjolras’s face, and Enjolras flinched, biting back his initial instinct to contradict Grantaire. Partially because he didn’t actually think that Grantaire was a loser, but most because he knew when Grantaire was picking a fight, and the last thing he wanted was for Grantaire to twist his attempt at comfort into something it wasn’t. “The only one you’re embarrassing is yourself,” he said instead, struggling to keep his voice even and controlled. “Now you can either come home with me or I’m calling you an Uber, but I’m not doing this with you here.”
For one long moment, Grantaire just glared at him, and Enjolras shrugged, pulling out his phone so that he could order an Uber for him. Suddenly, Grantaire’s hand shot out, closing around Enjolras’s wrist, and Enjolras glanced up at him, Grantaire’s expression inscrutable. “I love you, you know,” Grantaire said, his voice still several decibels too loud, as if he didn’t care that the entire bar could still hear him. “But for the life of me, I can’t understand why you would ever love me back.”
Enjolras stared at him, completely taken aback by the words that had just come out of Grantaire’s mouth. “Are you…are you serious right now?” he asked, his voice cracking, just slightly, and when Grantaire shrugged, Enjolras twisted his wrist out of his grip so that he could reach out and take Grantaire’s hand in both of his. There were a million things he wanted to say, a million reasons he wanted to give, but instead, he did the only thing he could, and turned it back on Grantaire. “Why do you love me?”
Grantaire stared at him. “What?”
“You heard me,” Enjolras said. “You don’t understand why I love you? Well, then I want you to explain why you love me.”
“I– that’s not the same thing!” Grantaire spluttered. “You’re – you’re you!”
He gestured so emphatically at Enjolras that he almost toppled off his barstool, and Enjolras rolled his eyes as he helped right him in his seat. “And you’re going to have to do better than that.”
Grantaire just shook his head. “I don’t understand how anyone could not love you,” he told Enjolras, with the kind of honesty brought on by far too many shots of vodka. “I don’t understand how Combeferre and Courfeyrac can spend as much time with you as they have and not just fallen head over heels in love with you.”
“I imagine the amount of time they’ve spent with me is probably why they haven’t,” Enjolras murmured wryly.
But Grantaire ignored him. “You just—” He shook his head admiringly. “There is so much broken in this world, so much that it’s, it’s incomprehensible for any person to even begin to make a difference, and somehow, you do. You give every part of yourself to trying to make the world better in whatever little way you can, and you never let anything, including and especially me, stop you from trying.”
Enjolras nodded slowly. “And that’s why you love me?”
“Yes.” Grantaire barked a laugh and scrubbed his free hand across his mouth. “No. I don’t know.” He dropped his hand and tilted his head to look up at Enjolras. “I love you because you make me want to be someone more than I am.”
Enjolras squeezed his hand. “And I love you because you make me better.”
Grantaire made a small note of dissent. “Be serious.”
“I am.” Enjolras pronounced the words with as much iron as he usually saved for his calls to arms. “You make me better. You make me want to be better. You ground me and remind of exactly why I do this. And you soften my rough edges and keep me from working myself to the bone on a half-brained idea that probably won’t even accomplish what I was intending anyway.”
He echoed Grantaire’s words from earlier in the day back to him, but gentler, sweeter, with a teasing lilt and no sharp bite, and when Grantaire smiled, just slightly, Enjolras smiled as well, lifting Grantaire’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of his hand. “I love you because you helped me figure out how to be whole.”
There was something unreadable but impossibly soft in Grantaire's expression as he looked at Enjolras. “I want to kiss you,” he told him.
Enjolras laughed lightly, feeling for the first time since he’d set foot in this bar like they were still them. “What are you waiting for, my permission?” he asked with a grin.
“No,” Grantaire said, swaying just slightly in his seat as he searched Enjolras’s face before confessing, “I’m drunk and there seems to be two of you, and I’m not sure which one I’m supposed to kiss.”
Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately before leaning in to kiss Grantaire on the forehead. “C’mon,” he said, his voice rough. “Let’s get you home before you say something else you’re going to regret in the morning.”
Grantaire let Enjolras pull him to his feet, patting automatically for his wallet. “Wait, I need to pay my tab—”
“I got it,” Enjolras told him, having slipped his credit card to the bartender almost as soon as he had sat down.
Grantaire leaned heavily against him. “You better have tipped well,” he said.
“Believe me, I did,” Enjolras muttered.
Grantaire blinked up at him. “I love you,” he repeated, as Enjolras wrapped an arm around his waist and steered him towards the exit. “And I’m not gonna regret this in the morning.” He considered it for a moment. “Well, maybe just a little.”
Enjolras just shook his head. “Well, you’ll have to call me in the morning and let me know.”
Grantaire frowned. “Why don’t you come home with me and find out for yourself?” he asked, with just a little bit of a whine in his voice. “Save me from having to make a phone call.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Enjolras told him. “Not tonight.”
“Not like that,” Grantaire said, a little impatiently. “I mean – just come home with me, Enj.” Enjolras’s resolve was already wavering when Grantaire added softly, “Please.”
Enjolras sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But if you regret it in the morning, it’s your fault, not mine.”
Grantaire gave him a bright, genuine smile. “I won’t,” he promised.
“Good,” Enjolras said, pressing a kiss to the top of Grantaire’s head. “Because given how shitty your mattress is, I might.”
#enjolras#grantaire#exr#enjolras x grantaire#enjoltaire#fanfiction#modern au#established relationship#fluff and angst#but mostly fluff
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Family Traditions (We Are a Family...Right?)
Summary: Summary contains AGIT spoilers! Inspired by the Christmas season, Vlad takes his two charges Dan and Dani to select a Christmas tree for their first Christmas together. Dani is thrilled by the outing, Dan...not so much. And Vlad is left to ruminate on his nostalgic memories and the meaning of the word family.
Happy Holiday Truce @northerngrail! I'm your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy your gift this year! Thank you for the wonderful prompts! I decided to go with this one for your gift:
Prompt: The Masters family (Vlad, Dan, Dani) doing something incredibly stereotypically "family bonding" ie: fishing, road trip, etc. And suffering through it (happily)
AO3
CW: AGIT Spoilers!
Family Traditions (We Are a Family...Right?)
He didn’t know what drove him to think this idea would go well. Maybe he thought this living arrangement meant more than it actually did. Maybe he finally had some hope that something would change. Or maybe he was just getting soft and senile in his old age. Vlad realized with a sharp jab of annoyance mixed with pain that it was probably the latter.
He couldn’t really put a name on what living situation he had now with the young Danielle and the redemption-seeking Dan. Parent? No, that felt far too familiar. Warden? In the case of Dan that sometimes felt appropriate. Caretaker? He certainly did watch out for them, but even that seemed a little distant for the paternal relationship he’d started to build. Guardian? That seemed to fit the best as a good mix of responsibility and affection.
But would that make them a family? He felt loath to ascribe that much affection and companionship towards what they had. He could catch a glimpse of it sometimes, especially from Danielle, but he didn’t feel that quite met the criteria for family. Then again, he didn’t have the best example of that growing up, but when he looked at what the Fentons had…he didn’t see that in his current living situation.
So if he didn’t see them as a family, then why did he think it wise to embark on something that most would consider a family tradition? He still couldn’t rationalize those competing principles in his mind, just like he still couldn’t explain the pull he felt towards this activity. He could say he got caught up in the infectious holiday spirit surrounding him, or the yearning for a family tradition, but in reality it had been a thought: a simple thought that pushed him to change his entire approach to the month of December. This was the first Christmas he would spend with children under his roof - and he painfully realized it would be the first Christmas he would spend with anyone under his roof since he was a teenager - and he needed to make that special for them. Whether he was their parent, warden, caretaker, or guardian, that meant he bore the responsibility of giving them a Christmas and rolling out all the stops. The decorations. The stockings. The presents. The Christmas meal. The Christmas movies. And that also meant…the Christmas tree.
Wrangling them into the car proved to be a challenge. Dan was a malevolent, violent ghost stuck in a teenager’s body, which proved to be a disastrous combination on the best of days, and Danielle was mischievous and far too inquisitive for her own good. Neither of them responded well to the idea of an unannounced drive to an undisclosed location for an activity. His suggestion was met with suspicion and questions, and even though he managed to convince them to join him in the car, the suspicious and inquisitive questions had not ceased.
Christmas music crooned out of the stereo to set the mood as Vlad turned off the highway and onto a country road. Sure some people sold suitable trees in the city, but this was less about the tree and more about the experience, and he wanted to find a small local shop off the beaten path. As they pulled into the small dirt parking lot, Dan’s eyes focused on the large cars with cables and trailers and harnesses already equipped. He watched as a family walked out from under a white canopy strung up with warm Christmas lights as they pulled something heavy behind them.
Dan shook his head as he frowned. “No…no wait no. I see what you’re doing here. Are we–”
“Picking out a Christmas tree!” Dani interrupted in sheer joy as she pressed her face against the cold car window to look out at the selection of pine trees that covered the snowy ground.
“Yes, that is what we are doing,” Vlad confirmed as he out-maneuvered someone to get a close parking space. They didn’t need a closer parking space - all of them were fit and able to walk and carry a tree a long distance - but this was about the principle and the status of managing to find and obtain a closer parking space.
Dan groaned as he slumped into his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why can’t we just get a plastic tree from Target like everyone else? Or better yet, none at all.”
“Because that’s no fun,” Dani pouted as she turned around in her seat to face her…sibling? Herself? Her future? Vlad wasn’t quite sure how to quantify and label their relationship either. “This is so much better! I’ve seen this on TV. You run around and look at all the trees and pick the best one. Don’t you want to do that?”
“No,” Dan quickly retorted.
“Really?” Dani pressed.
“I would rather be in the thermos.”
“We can arrange that,” Dani muttered under her breath as she turned to look back out the window.
Vlad took a moment to build his patience (a patience he’d been working incredibly hard to develop after finding himself a guardian) before he turned around to look in the back seat. “No one is being sucked into a thermos. Now we are going to look at some Christmas trees. Maybe we don’t need to look at all of the trees,” he conceded. Dani opened her mouth to protest but Vlad held a hand up. “We can find a perfectly good tree without looking at all of them. But we are going to look, understand?”
Dan and Vlad locked eyes for what felt like minutes to Vlad, but he knew in reality it only lasted a few moments. He’d engaged in his fair share of these battles of wills with the malevolent ghost before (and he’d lost his fair share as well), but he had a purpose this time and the genuine hope this would do them all some good, and that pushed him to stand his ground.
Finally Dan huffed out an annoyed breath and stepped out of the car. Vlad slumped in his seat in relief. He really didn’t want this argument to escalate further, but with Dan he never knew. He genuinely felt that the ghost was trying to make good on his second chance, especially since they both knew Clockwork kept his eye on them, but sometimes he acted out in anger and it turned violent. Vlad could take the abuse until he could calm him down, but he preferred not to cause a panic in public around so many families.
Dani seemed to sense their victory. The tension bled out of her and a smile returned to her face as she jumped eagerly out of the car. He had originally been wary of bringing Danielle into the house after he took charge of Dan’s rehabilitation, but she had actually proven to be a stabilizing force in the house. Maybe she served as a gentle reminder of Dan’s prior innocence, Vlad couldn’t quite say, but in the absence of Jazmine (who Dan surprisingly listened to), Danielle could hold quite a bit of sway. They still argued, but she could hold her own and put him in his place when needed. Sometimes they even teamed up, and while Vlad appreciated seeing them working together, that never bode well for him.
He followed his two charges out of the car and led them towards the first row of trees as the snow crunched underfoot. What a stereotypical sight they must make: the single parent leading a sullen teenager and a wide-eyed younger child to pick out a Christmas tree. It felt reminiscent of those horrible Hallmark channel movies that he absolutely did not hate-watch in secret, but how wrong anyone would be to think that their arrangement was anything close to that stereotypical display.
“Don’t even look at the prices,” he instructed as they reached their first row of trees. Wafts of fresh pine scent assaulted them, and Vlad took a moment to breathe deep of the nostalgic smell. He couldn’t wait to have it spread through the living room once they installed the tree. “Just pick out a tree you both like.”
Dani clapped her hands happily and ran off down the row to look at trees further in, but stopped short as soon as Dan spoke up and pointed ominously at the very first tree. “This one.”
Dani stopped and turned around as she stomped her foot. “Ugh, you dummy! You didn’t even look at the rest of them!” Vlad raised an eyebrow because Danielle may very well be the only being in both the realm of the living and the realm of the dead who could get away with calling Dan a dummy.
“I didn’t need to. I like this one,” he said firmly.
Dani opened her mouth to argue again, but Vlad spoke first. “And why do you like this one?” Maybe he had a genuine reason for liking this tree, but he doubted it.
“Because it’s the first one.”
Both Vlad and Dani groaned. “We’ll keep your preference in mind, but we’ll keep looking at other trees,” Vlad decided. He didn’t want to dismiss Dan’s preference if he truly felt a connection to that tree, but he had a feeling the only positive quality that three possessed was being the first of the lot.
Dan retreated further into his sulk as he bowed his head lower, but he trudged after them as Dani ran through the trees. They had their work cut out for them, because all the trees were lovely. The recent snow dusted the branches with white powder and it looked like a perfect winter wonderland; he would be happy taking any of them home. Thankfully Dani seemed to have a vision and she inspected trees that caught her eye with an expert, critical gaze.
“What about this one?” Vlad suggested as he pointed at a well-shaped tree that Dani walked right past.
She turned to give it a second look as she placed a gloved hand to her chin, but she shook her head. “Nope. It’s too…piney.”
“Too…piney?” Vlad asked in confirmation.
“What the hell does that mean?” Dan asked as he raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s more of a feeling. It’s just…too much pine.” And as if that statement cleared everything up, she dashed off to another tree.
“She’s drawing this out,” Dan complained.
Vlad sighed. “We’ve barely been here five minutes; this is hardly being drawn out.”
“There was nothing wrong with that tree,” Dan pointed out. “She shot it down because she doesn’t want to be done.”
“And what’s the harm in that?” Vlad probed. “Let her look at some of the trees, get a feel for what’s out there, and then we can press her into choosing one.”
Dan rolled his eyes and trudged after them as he scuffed his boots stubbornly through the snow. Occasionally he’d kick the trunk of a tree just to watch the snow shake and fall from the branches, but mostly he sulked behind them while Dani debated the features of different trees and the quality of their pine needles.
“Oh stop looking like you’re being tortured,” Vlad finally spoke up. “This is far from the worst thing you’ve ever had to endure.”
“Don’t you remember I hate Christmas?” Dan pointed out.
“Part of you may,” Vlad conceded. He remembered hearing Jack complain incessantly about how young Daniel could not get into the spirit of Christmas. He’d planned to use that at some point to his advantage in recruiting the young Daniel, but now…well he had enough versions of the boy that he didn’t need to add another under his roof. “But the other part of you secretly loves Christmas. I know because that part is me. So maybe you should listen to that other part.”
“I usually lean towards hatred,” Dan quipped sullenly.
Dani poked her head out from behind a nearby Christmas tree, her hat covered in snow. “Well, then maybe you shouldn’t.” She gave Dan a pointed look and a shrug before she disappeared back behind the foliage.
Vlad had to hide a chuckle behind a gloved hand at how simple the suggestion seemed. Danielle had a way of cutting through the attitude to find the cheery solution. He didn’t know where that quality came from, because while Daniel could be overly hopeful at times, he wouldn’t necessarily describe the boy as cheery. She hadn’t had a cheerful existence so far (he meant to change that) so he couldn’t say that positive outlook came from her prior experiences. Maybe she forced herself to adopt that perspective specifically to deal with her experiences? He’d have to ponder that a bit more. But whatever the explanation for her optimistic demeanor, he appreciated her view on the world and tried to adopt a little of it himself now and then.
Dan also seemed intrigued by her suggestion because he grew quiet and pensive. It wouldn’t last long, it never did, but maybe he took some of what she said to heart.
Suddenly a tree caught Vlad’s eye and he stopped in front of it. A wide base with a tapered point, taller than him, no patchy spots - it resembled the quintessential tree from any holiday catalog. “Danielle, what about this one?” Vlad suggested as he inspected the branches. He gave them a good shake and they seemed sturdy and capable of holding even his heaviest Packers ornaments.
Dani doubled back and gave the tree some serious consideration. She walked around it a couple times and even got down onto her knees to look up under the tree at its bones. She scooted out from under the branches and shook her head. “No, that’s not our tree.”
“Are you kidding me?” Dan snapped. “It’s perfect!”
“That’s the problem,” Dani stated as she lifted up one of the branches. “It’s too perfect. You want the tree to have some character.”
“I can’t believe this,” Dan groaned as he looked up at the sky like it held some kind of salvation.
“Well, then we’ll keep looking,” Vlad agreed, though it pained him to walk away from this picture-perfect tree.
“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Dan spoke up.
Vlad took a moment to close his eyes and collect his patience before he spoke up again. “Because we need a Christmas tree,” he tried to say through a controlled, even tone.
“Okay, but why are we doing this?” Dan asked with added emphasis on his real question. ”Why not just send Skulker to grab one? You send him on all your other mundane errands.”
“Because he wouldn’t grab the right one. And he wouldn’t take the care needed to transport it back. And he’s on a date.” There, three practical reasons that should hopefully quell Dan’s query and avoided the true emotional reasons for the trip.
Dan stopped abruptly as he blinked a couple times. “He’s what?”
Vlad turned around and quickly noticed the shocked wide eyes and gaping mouth, and he took the slightest bit of delight that he could catch the ghost off guard like that. He actually greatly resembled Daniel in that moment in more than just appearance. He didn’t often see pieces of the Daniel he knew in Dan - he must have torn it all out when he rid himself of his emotions - but occasionally they would bleed through. It was refreshing to see. “Well, he didn’t call it a date. He’s off destroying the world with Technus. But it’s a date. We all know it’s a date.”
Dan shook his head minutely as a look of revulsion colored his shocked expression. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“What, do you have a problem with love?” Dani asked as she emerged from behind them. She had clearly been crawling around under trees because pine needles stuck out of her hat and jacket.
“No - I mean yes,” he countered quickly. “Yes. I hate love.”
“Riiiight,” Dani said as she rolled her eyes. She gave a slight wink to Vlad who hid a chuckle behind his glove. “Hey, shouldn’t we be worried about the ‘destroying the world’ part?”
Vlad waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too worried. It’s Skulker and Technus after all: hardly a pair to be concerned about. Besides, I’m sure Daniel will find a way to ruin their fun.”
“First good thing that brat’s done,” Dan quipped.
Dani put her hands on her waist as she leaned in close to Dan’s face. “Why are you so against them dating?” she asked as she squinted to study his face.
He took a step back and lightly shoved her out of his space. “Because I’ve seen them in the future. Look, can we talk about anything else? Like what about this tree?” he asked as he tapped the tree next to them.
Vlad smiled that Dan seemed to be getting into the spirit enough that talking about a tree was an acceptable alternative. It also seemed to work because it completely distracted Dani who rushed over to examine the tree.
“Nah. This one sheds too many needles,” she decided as she pulled a handful of needles off.
“You can’t–every tree will lose its needles if you pull on them like that!” Dan argued in exasperation.
“Yeah, but this one lost more,” she countered. “So there. Not a good tree.” She scampered off before Dan could get another argument in.
He clenched a fist and breathed out a long, slow breath. Vlad hiked an eyebrow in interest because it looked like some of those anger management techniques were actually working. He’d have to thank Jazmine later. “She’s being unreasonable.”
“She’s just having fun,” Vlad sighed. “I promise, I’ll make her select one soon enough, just bear with her.”
“Oh I’m bearing with her alright,” Dan muttered through gritted teeth as he watched Dani dismiss another perfectly good tree.
While Dan might be suffering watching her traipse through the rows of pine trees, Vlad actually found the whole event quite enjoyable. The whimsy of watching Danielle play around amongst the trees and inspect each one filled him with a paternal glow. Watching a Christmas tradition unfold through the eyes of a child filled him with a happiness he couldn’t really explain and renewed his Christmas spirit more than any other activity could. Now if only his other charge would find the tender happiness of the moment with them, then it could all be perfect. Alas, that seemed to be too much to ask for.
“If none of these trees are right, then why can’t we just get a plastic one? It would save us all a lot of time,” Dan pointed out.
“The plastic ones just don’t have the same feel to them,” Vlad explained as he stretched the limits of his very limited patience to stay civil. How he longed to turn around and brandish the ‘because I said so’ that all guardians use at some point, but he knew that would only end in conflict and would force Dan to pull away even further. But god would it be easier. “A real tree has a scent and a presence that the fake ones don’t have. And the experience of selecting a tree is far more thrilling.”
“I can’t say I agree with the ‘thrilling’ part of that statement,” Dan grumbled.
“Because you’re not letting yourself. But selecting a tree for Christmas…why it’s one of the few happy memories I have of Christmases past. My parents were usually too busy for their trophy child, but Christmas seemed to be the time when they remembered why they had a child in the first place. Every Christmas we would pick out a tree from some small lot like this one here. Mother would watch and smile as I picked out a tree. I could actually hold my father’s attention for a time. We had no distractions or anything else demanding their attention. It was us as a family picking out a Christmas tree.”
A soft smile settled on Vlad’s face as he thought of those happy, nostalgic memories. He didn’t have many happy memories of his childhood as they were mostly filled with loneliness and boredom, but the few he had of Christmas he held very dear to his heart. And being back amongst the trees, with the snow and the pine and the excited squeals of children pointing to trees brought him right back to the happiest of his memories.
Dani stopped her inspection of a tree’s branches, and when she turned to look at him, Vlad could see the sympathy creasing her slightly teary eyes. He wasn’t really trying to get that reaction from her, but he wanted to share how much the nostalgia of this trip meant to him. She reached a comforting hand out towards him, but stopped when Dan’s harsh voice cut through the silence left by Vlad’s story.
“You forget old man that I have those same memories too,” Dan growled with a slight edge to his voice. While Vlad clearly drew warm feelings from these memories, Dan’s reaction gave him the distinct impression that he was not as pleased to be reliving those old memories. “I don’t need the reminder. So I ask again why are we doing this? And I want a real answer this time.”
Vlad opened his mouth with a quick businessman answer full of bluster and smoke and mirrors, but faltered when he realized that this wasn’t a business meeting. This wasn’t some pitch that he needed to sell to a stranger whose feelings and opinions didn’t matter. This wasn’t some cut and dry business proposal that most people would forget about two days later. No, this was his ward and he owed him more than some superficial response. He deserved to hear the real reason, even if Vlad still didn’t know what that real reason could be. How was he supposed to explain to the ghost who tore out his own feelings a decade ago that he did it because he yearned to give his wards a warm memory to hold on to in the cold and lonely months that seemed to come for everyone in their later years, like he had of his own Christmas traditions. He couldn’t rationalize it or explain it in a logical way that would make sense to him, because all he had were feelings and a hope, and he could hardly find the words to explain that to himself, let alone to the other ghost.
Dani, however, seemed to have no problems putting that feeling into words. She stepped in between them and looked at them both with that infectious smile of hers. “Because it’s what family does.”
A silence fell about them as the word ‘family’ rang in their ears. Dan stared down at the snow-covered ground and refused to meet either of their eyes. He slid his foot in the snow just to make some kind of noise to fill the awkward silence. Vlad also shifted uncomfortably as he grabbed his other arm and ran his hand along his sleeve as he lost himself in thought.
Family. So Danielle somehow believed they were a family? Why was he so shocked to hear that? He’d thought it earlier that night and even multiple times before that as he planned this out. This was the sort of activity a family did together. He wanted to share this with them because he saw them as family. It all made sense in his head, and yet for some reason the word never felt right when he rolled it around in his head. He always felt it wasn’t quite right for what a family should be, but maybe that had been his problem. For Danielle to say it so plainly…well it made it all the more plain to him too. Maybe it wasn’t the family everyone else had, but it was the family the three of them got, and didn’t that make the word all the more meaningful? The fact that three outcasts who never really belonged to anyone had found each other (sometimes in very strange circumstances) and managed to make it work meant something to him, to Danielle, and hopefully to Dan based on his reaction.
Dani must have realized she said something poignant because she let the other two sit in their thoughts for a long, awkward moment before her eyes grew wide. She pointed into the distance as a huge grin spread across her face. “That’s it!” she cried out before she shot off down the row to the tree that caught her eye.
Dan glanced up from the ground and took a step forward to follow after her, but Vlad held a hand out to gently stop him. He knew Dan didn’t like being touched and he was putting his own safety in danger by doing so, but he had a feeling he would allow it this time. “Wait. You want to know why I’m doing this?” he asked, which turned Dan’s warning glare into a look of curiosity. “I’m doing it for her.”
Vlad gestured towards Dani who jumped about her newly selected tree with excited hands clasped together. “Maybe you don’t care anymore, or maybe even can’t care anymore, and that’s fine. Maybe you don’t think we’re a family, and that’s fine too. But she does. And she has known very few Christmases since she…well since I brought her into this life. I wasn’t ready to make them good Christmases before…but I am now. And I want her to have a good memory of this, like we did.”
He gave Dan one last little nod before he met up with Dani at her chosen tree. Dan fell silent and stayed behind, but Vlad didn’t mind. Giving him a chance to think and ponder those thoughts seemed like it would be helpful in the long run. “Well now, let’s see this tree.” Like many of the others they’d pointed out, the tree had a good wide and full silhouette and was tall enough to fit the ceiling of its destined room. He nodded his head in approval as he circled the tree and studied it from all angles, but his inspection unfortunately uncovered a gap in the tree. And not just a gap, but it appeared all the branches below that gap seemed to be drooping, like something heavy had pulled them down. He grabbed those branches and tried to move them up to see if they were broken, but the branches still remained firm. So they were attached securely to the tree but had just been shaped improperly.
Vlad sighed as he released the branch and dusted his hands off on his jacket. “I’m sorry to tell you this Danielle, but your tree has some drooping branches on this side.” She would be crushed to hear the tree that captured her heart had such a noticeable imperfection.
“I know,” she said simply. “That’s why it’s perfect.”
“...I’m not following,” Vlad admitted. She’d dismissed so many other trees for the tiniest of details (some of which she made up) so how could she so easily ignore this one?
“Because it’s not made perfect. It’s not the perfect example of a tree, and maybe it’s not exactly what you expect or want when you think about a tree, but it’s still good. It’ll still make a good tree,” she pointed out as she held one of the branches and ran her gloved fingers over the pine needles. “And you can love the tree not just in spite of its flaws, but because of its flaws.”
Vlad quickly realized this had become far larger than just picking out a tree. Somehow she had turned this into a metaphor for herself. She wanted a tree that had its flaws just as she had, and knowing that tree could still be chosen and loved and desired was important to her. He realized he had caused that insecurity too. By chasing after a “better” clone, a clone more like Daniel, he had dismissed his other creations as failures without caring about how that made them feel. He had a lot to atone for, more than what he could do with a Christmas tradition, but he’d start that atonement by showing her that yes, she could still be chosen and loved because of who she was.
“Well, then it sounds like it’s the perfect tree for us,” Vlad agreed with a smile as he placed a hand on her shoulder. A slightly broken tree for the slightly broken family. It felt right.
Dani squealed in excitement and jumped up and down in place. “Yay! I can’t wait to put all kinds of garland and ornaments and lights and - ooh tinsel! We can put tinsel on it too!”
Vlad chuckled as he shook his head slightly. Tinsel sounded like a horribly messy thing, but if tinsel brought her some holiday cheer and joy, then he’d let her throw tinsel all over that tree. “Whatever you’d like. Now, let’s take this tree number to the–”
“Oh, sorry pal,” a voice spoke up from behind them. Vlad turned to see a middle-aged couple walk over to them. The bearded man gestured towards the tree. “We already paid for that one.”
“What?” Dani asked as she turned her wide, sad eyes onto Vlad, as if pleading for a different answer.
“For this tree?” Vlad asked in confirmation as he placed his hands on the branches of the tree.
“Yup, that exact tree. Number 251. Best bang for its buck on the whole lot. Managed to get a discount on account of the defect,” he crowed proudly.
“But…but…” Dani stammered as she looked back at her prized tree. “But I spent so long looking for this one…”
Vlad felt a frustration rise up within him, but he tamped it down as he put on his best businessman face. He didn’t need to let his temper get out of control here. He had to remind himself that this couple didn’t understand or know how much this tree meant to her, but surely they could be persuaded. And if the joy of a child couldn’t sway them, then he was sure money could.
“Any way I could persuade you to pick a different tree?” he cajoled as he took a step closer. “Pay the cost of the difference to another tree perhaps? My dau–young Danielle here, she really has her heart set on this tree.”
“It’s perfect,” she pouted as she held onto one of its branches like a young child held the hand of a beloved stuffed animal.
The couple looked between each other for a moment, but when he met Vlad’s gaze again he shook his head. “Sorry, but we worked hard for the deal we got for this tree, and as a point of pride we’d like to take it home.”
“Extra money then,” Vlad pressed. “The difference in price for another tree plus an extra hundred to spend on decorations or whatever you’d like.”
The man shook his head again. “Sorry pal, but we’d like this tree, and we did find it first.”
Vlad clenched a fist as his ectoplasm boiled in rage. Really they were just being unreasonable. The tree, while perfect for them, could not possibly be worth this much to the other couple. It seemed like the more he argued for it, the more value they found in their initial purchase. He normally believed everyone had a tipping point, but he feared that these individuals were too stubborn for their own good. Perhaps he could arrange a little…situation on the road, where the tree mysteriously fell through their car on the way home. He’d tried to handle this nicely, but he wasn’t above some ghostly trickery to get that tree. Yes, that could work. He would just need a duplicate to follow them and then–
“He made you a reasonable offer,” Dan growled out from behind them. Vlad turned to see Dan practically vibrating in his anger, like his skin could barely hold the rage building up inside him. His clenched fists shook from the effort it took to keep them at his side.
“Now Dan, we don’t need to–” Vlad tried to intervene, but Dan cut him short with a steely glare.
“I’m not talking to you, old man. I’m talking to these two,” he snarled as he focused his attention on the pig-headed couple as he took slow, controlled steps towards them, like a careful predator stalking his prey. “He made you a reasonable offer and you said no because of what? Your pride? So you can have a trophy and congratulate yourselves on how you got such a good deal at the expense of the dreams of a child? You’re pathetic.”
The man bristled and stepped in front of his wife. “We saw it first. We already paid for it. That means it’s ours.”
“Oh no it isn’t. No, this tree is ours now. You want to take this tree from her?” he asked slowly as he gestured towards Dani. “On her first real Christmas? Her first Christmas with her family? No…no you’re not going anywhere near this tree. I’ll make sure of that,” he promised as a sinister red light flared in his eyes.
“Brad,” his wife squeaked up from the back, but he shook his head and took a brave (and foolish) step forward. He took a moment to size the teenager up with his dark jacket and thick black boots. Vlad realized that the man probably thought he had this “teenage punk” all figured out - oh how wrong he would be.
“You think some teenager with a mouth will stop me?” Brad asked as he puffed up his chest with fake confidence. “I’ll call the cops and shut down your tough guy act.”
“The cops won’t save you from what I have in store,” Dan threatened as his eyes glowed a uniform red. A white ring of light formed around his waist, and as it split apart it revealed the massive, muscled form of Dan Phantom. Brad took a terrified step back on shaking legs as Dan advanced on him, towering over him. He grabbed the man’s shirt in his fist and easily suspended him in the air. The man grasped at the hand around his shirt and kicked his legs as he begged for mercy, but it only made Dan’s malicious smile grow wider.
He flew the pleading man up into the air, higher and higher before he simply released his hold on the man and dropped him. He screamed as he plummeted quickly to the earth, but Dan swooped down to grab him again. He held him in the air and grinned at his screams for mercy. “If you think that was bad, you should see what else I have in store for you,” Dan threatened as he held up a fist wreathed with green ectoplasmic flame.
“Oh butter biscuits, we’d been doing so well for a public outing,” Vlad sighed from down on the ground. As much as he felt great pleasure (and maybe pride?) upon hearing the unreasonable man squeal in terror and fright, he didn’t actually want the trouble of having Dan hurt the man. As much as he wished for the man to suffer pain for his stubborn attitude and refusal to help secure Dani’s dream tree, as a guardian he couldn’t actually let Dan hurt the man.
“Are you going to stop him?” Dani asked with a slight tremble in her voice. She must still remember the last time he had to stop Dan and took quite a beating in the process.
“Eventually,” Vlad sighed as he kept his eyes focused closely on Dan. “If he does anything that’s actually harmful I will of course rush in.” For now though, it seemed like Dan found satisfaction enough in terrifying the man, and judging by Brad’s high pitched squeals of “You can have the tree! You can have the tree!” he had a feeling the tactic worked.
“But first, let us rescue that tree, hmm?” Vlad suggested as he smiled down at his young charge.
Dani’s smile lit up her face as she reached over to give Vlad a hug from the side. He stiffened slightly in surprise only because he didn’t expect such a physically affectionate reaction, but it melted his heart all the same in a way he’d never felt before. He placed a hand on her back and gave it a comforting pat.
He looked back over at Dan who had moved on to threatening the man by slowly sinking him intangibly into the ground and he noticed the gleeful yet sinister smile on his face. Dan reacted so strongly to the potential for Danielle’s dream to be dashed, and he had even used the word family in his threats. He admitted they were a family.
Somehow, in their own strange way, this trip had brought them closer as a unit and…yes as a family. This off-the-cuff idea that he stitched together with a feeling and a hope had actually proven to be a happy outing that he knew generated some formative memories for all involved. Maybe he had done it. Maybe he had created a new Christmas tradition for all of them. For his family.
Their own family tradition.
Notes: I just wanted to make a note that I don't actually have anything against plastic trees. I myself have 3 plastic trees and have never had a live tree (I'm too paranoid about the fire risks). So that was all Vlad. But I do have a romanticized idea of what selecting a live tree would be like!
Also @northerngrail I hope you noticed the little nod to one of your other prompts in there!
This is also a first for me on a lot of levels. First time including Dani in a story. First time writing from Vlad's POV. First time writing anything post-AGIT. So hopefully I did it all justice!
I hope you enjoyed your gif!
#danny phantom#danny phantom fanfiction#fanfiction#phandom truce 2023#holiday truce 2023#masters family#agit spoilers#a glitch in time spoilers#post agit#christmas fluff#found family trope#family fluff#minor angst#but mostly fluff#parental Vlad Masters#Vlad Masters POV#christmas tree#christmas spirit
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“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”
“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.
International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.
With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.
Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.
There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.
The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.
It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.
Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.
But it was too late for the town.
It was gone.
Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.
Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.
It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.
The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.
Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.
He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.
Nothing could be done.
Nothing.
He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”
“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”
The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.
Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”
“Eastern side, southern corner.”
There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.
“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”
He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.
Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?
His shoulders dropped.
But then...something? A whimper?
Maybe?
Virgil began digging.
It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.
The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.
Aw, hell.
“John, lifesign is a dog.”
“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”
“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”
Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”
The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.
“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”
Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.
A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”
Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.
-o-o-o-
Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.
When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.
No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.
“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.
But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.
He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.
And he couldn’t.
Just couldn’t.
His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.
He looked down at her little brown eyes again.
No, he couldn’t.
Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.
Maybe for just a few days?
The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.
Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.
“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”
-o-o-o-
It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.
When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.
Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.
Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.
“What is that?”
Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.
“Bo?”
“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”
“Oh.”
Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”
Bo let off a sharp bark.
Everyone jumped.
“What the hell, Virgil?”
Bo was literally glaring at Alan.
“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.
“Hey!” That from Alan.
“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.
“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.
Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.
She sneezed.
Alan snorted.
Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”
She licked his wrist.
“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”
“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.
Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.
“Shut up, Virgil.”
Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.
“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”
“Sorry, Bo.”
“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”
Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”
“Augh.”
“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.
Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.
“Virgil, where the hell are you?”
Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.
TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.
“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.
Bo fell asleep in his lap.
-o-o-o-
Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.
So tired.
Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.
Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”
“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.
“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.
His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”
The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.
Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.
Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.
The smile became a grin.
“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”
And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.
If he could hold off the sleep.
If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.
Bo started chewing on his glove.
Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.
God, that felt good.
As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.
He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.
He was asleep within moments.
-o-o-o-
He was being kissed.
Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...
Uh?
She licked his eye.
Wha-?
Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.
Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”
A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.
Ugh.
He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.
The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.
Oh god.
“Bo, down, honey, down.”
He was completely ignored.
Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.
He winced.
“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”
“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.
Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”
“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”
Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”
“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”
“She’s a rescue.”
“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”
“She had no one.”
“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.
Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”
Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”
“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.
Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Bo just licked him some more.
It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.
Ugh.
And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.
He closed his eyes and sighed again.
Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.
-o-o-o-
A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.
Since starting International Rescue it had changed.
Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.
There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.
There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.
As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.
“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”
Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”
John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.
His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.
“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.
“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”
“Since this morning.”
“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.
“He does.”
“And you still have it?”
“Her.”
“Her.”
“Yes.”
“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.
“She had no one else.”
John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.
“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”
“God, I hope not.”
Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”
John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.
“It will be fine.”
Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.
The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.
“I think you have been approved.”
John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.
“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.
“Incoming.” John was smirking.
“Hey, Grandma.”
But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”
Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”
Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.
“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”
Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”
Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Virgil rolled his eyes.
“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.
A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.
Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”
“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.
Scott was glaring at him from a distance.
John smiled at them and drank his beer.
Bo started chewing on his collar.
-o-o-o-
As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.
Bo yipped.
Sherbert yapped.
And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.
Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.
But never out of sight of Virgil.
Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.
Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”
Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.
The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.
The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.
Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.
The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.
-o-o-o-
Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.
The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.
And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.
His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.
Scott sighed.
But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.
Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.
Scott found himself smiling.
Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.
Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.
The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.
Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.
But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.
They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?
He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.
Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.
Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...
Another sigh.
A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.
“Gordon!”
“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.
Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Exactly.”
The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.
A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.
“Oh, for the love of-“
“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”
“Leave it, Gordon.”
His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”
“Gordon-“
“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.
“Gordon-‘
“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.
Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.
Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.
She jumped up and licked his nose.
Scott sighed.
Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”
Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.
“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”
He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.
“I really hope we don’t regret this.”
-o-o-o-
“PRESENTS!”
Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?
“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.
A sharp little bark.
Bo.
He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.
Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”
“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.
Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.
There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.
“You okay?”
“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”
Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.
Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”
Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.
Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”
“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.
Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.
The result was immediate.
MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.
With Bo hanging on.
“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.
Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”
MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.
Virgil dashed after them.
Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.
All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.
A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.
Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.
“No!”
Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.
As he plummeted into the pool.
The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.
Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.
Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.
She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.
He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.
“You trashed the tree, Virg.”
“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.
And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.
-o-o-o-
“Only you, Virgil.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”
“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”
“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”
“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”
“You are still getting out of clean up.”
“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”
“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”
Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I know that, Ow!”
“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”
“Bo ate one of my boots.”
Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”
“She’s a puppy.”
“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”
“I’m not planning on it.”
As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”
To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.
Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”
Bo yapped at him.
Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”
“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.
Ooookaay.
He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.
Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.
He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.
“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”
-o-o-o-
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#scott tracy#john tracy#gordon tracy#christmas#nuttyfic reblog#bushfire warning for the first part#but mostly fluff
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Please sir do you have any more saizo or Claude laying around
(I have a metric f*ck ton of Claude lying around WAITING to be put back on the blog!! Here's Byleth confronting him about his real name)
“Khalid.”
You had said it so quietly, and so hesitantly, Claude wasn’t entirely positive you had said it. But he had frozen in his tracks, halfway out the bedroom door to go do some sparring, when the word slipped from your tongue.
Slowly, he turned around, looking back at you with an almost unreadable expression. But if you didn’t know any better… you’d think he was surprised. Almost scared.
“Come again?” He certainly sounded as though he’d been caught off-guard. You tilted your head.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?”
So he had heard correctly.
Claude shook his head and shut the doors again, setting his bow to the side.
“It was, a long, long time ago. But it’s been so long since I’ve gone by that name, I just… don’t think about it too much.”
“When were you going to tell your wife you had another name?” You questioned him, lips pursed as you observed the man who was very slowly making his way to you.
Claude shrugged, scratching at his cheek. “Whenever it was relevant, assuming it ever came up.”
“But you didn’t plan on telling me?” You quirked an eyebrow, and he looked more embarrassed than before.
“Well, it’s not like it was high priority.”
“I suppose not, but… learning you have another name from Balthus, of all people…”
“Balthus.” Claude swore under his breath. “He swore he wouldn’t say anything. How’d you get it out of him?”
“He was being himself, teasing me about knowing something I didn’t, and then he let it slip while he was trying to hold the information over my head. He is capable, but he doesn’t always have the most bright moments.”
“No, he does not.” Claude sighed, sinking down on the bed across from your recliner. You crossed your legs, refusing to let him escape you so easily.
Claude, sensing this, decided against his better judgment to question your rigidity.
“You wouldn’t happen to be upset about it, would you?”
“I might be.”
“Don’t be upset.”
“Since the day we met, I haven’t hidden anything from you. And when questions were asked, I would tell you. Especially not now that we’re married. There shouldn’t be a need for you to hide things like this from me… I’m supposed to be someone you trust.”
“And I do, dearheart, I promise, I trust you more than anyone else in the world. But this is just…”
“A secret worth hiding from your wife?” You tilted your head the other way, clearly unconvinced.
Claude glanced away, biting his lip as he tried to think of the best way to explain it to you.
“Look, By, it’s… not so much that I didn’t want to tell you that… I was trying real hard to forget. My identity… my former name would get me into trouble, especially when folks who weren’t fond of the Almyrans found out that my name was, well… extremely Almyran. People can be cruel, and they were.”
You relaxed some at his words. That made sense. Claude was a man of many secrets, but he wasn’t one to deliberately hide many things from you. If he wanted to tell you something, he usually did.
The reasoning behind not telling you this crucial detail of his identity was jarring, to say the least, but considering the persecution he spoke of, you could start to see why he wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops.
“Things are better, but it made sense to keep my new name. ‘Claude’ has been my name for ages- I can’t remember the last time someone called me ‘Khalid’. At least, not someone who didn’t already know it. And most of the people who did aren’t alive, anymore.”
“I see.” You hummed, watching your husband slide from the bed and finish his journey to your side. You shifted over some so that he could lie down beside you, his head falling contentedly into your lap. Your hand found his hair, smiling down at the man who seemed to happy just being near you. “Then, I’m sorry for doubting you. I just didn’t understand.”
“It’s all right. If I found out your name wasn’t Byleth, I’d be a bit suspicious, as well.”
“So what should I call you?”
“’Love’, ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘baby’… all of those work jus-”
“Not what I meant.” You pinched his cheek, annoyed by his playful shift.
He chuckled. “Ouch.”
‘Would you prefer I call you by your name, Khalid? Or do you want to remain Claude?”
“That’s a very difficult question.” He sighed, leaning his head back into your lap and peering up at you. His hand found yours, lazily swinging it back and forth in the warm spring air. “Whichever one you prefer.”
“But this is about-”
“It’s just a name.” Claude interrupted you, “I’ll answer to anything you call me- whatever you think suits me best. I’ll always be yours, after all… it doesn’t matter what you call me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You beamed softly at him, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Khalid.”
There was no hiding the bright, broad smile that crossed his lips, and he gently pulled you down to give you a real, searing kiss.
You would never forget how happy he looked.
#claude#byleth#fe 16#fire emblem three houses#fe three houses#fe3h#claudeleth#claude x byleth#fe fictions#fe-fictions#f!byleth#fem!byleth#f!mu#fluff#a little angst#but mostly fluff#we love and support our king khalid
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It was only a matter of time before I succumbed to the need to write for these two.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vaggie#charlie morningstar#chaggie#it was either this or aerti#my brain would not shut up#so ya'll have to suffer with me#enjoy the fluff#well#some angst#but mostly fluff#writing
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Time continued to pass both slowly and quickly for the new lovers. Lazy hands barely brushing damp skin turned into more fervent motions that ended in sore throats and bodies, then back again to slow breathed snuggles. The cycle continued to repeat as they dozed, and fucked, and worshiped each other for an unknown amount of time. Eventually, the pattern was broken by hunger.
Kate threw a frozen pizza in the oven to make the break in pattern as short as possible. Yelena took the chance to jump in the much nicer shower hiding in the basement behind the spiral staircase. Chef Kate couldn’t resist joining, of course. Their dance together under the power of multiple showerheads went much better than the first one over a week ago.
The pizza almost burned as freshly cleaned hands helped Kate guide Yelena through another orgasm with her back pressed into the finely laid tile of a glass doored shower and one leg hooked around Kate’s waist.
Getting fucked into mindlessness by Yelena’s strap was one of the best feelings Kate had ever experienced, but the way the blonde’s body submitted to her had started to unlock another addiction. The uncontrollable moans, the twitching, squeezing muscles that surrounded her hands and the dark eyes that pinched and plead for release filled her whole being to such an extent that she felt like she would never be able to be rid of them, no matter how many miles eventually ended up between the two.
They didn’t talk about the elephant of Kate having to go back to NYC in a few weeks, but conversation over a single plate of stuffed crust supreme, half covered in hot sauce - Yelena’s favorite, of course - eventually led to Kate being able to broach the subject of what she had originally wanted to ask for…before their attentions turned to seeking as much pleasure in each other as possible.
Yelena’s teasing voice reached over the empty plate between them, “So, full report, did I give you what you needed, Kate Bishop?”
Kate laughed sarcastically, “I don’t know if I exactly needed that many orgasms but, it was pretty good.”
“Um, that was more than pretty good. How dare you?” Yelena leaned over the plate, menacing Kate with a look of faux shock.
Kate laughed deeply as she moved the plate from between them and replaced it with her own body, “Ok, ok, you’re as great a lover as you are a killer, maybe better.” She nuzzled into Yelena’s shoulder, sending them both back into a near prone position propped up on thick, down feather stuffed pillows.
Yelena grinned softly then placed a firm chin on the top of Kate’s head, “I’m glad I didn’t kill you.”
Kate shifted her head to look upward, forcing Yelena’s chin to drop. Her ardent blue met the playfulness of Yelena’s green with more serious intent, “I’m glad I didn’t kill you .”
“Like you could have.” Yelena didn’t bother trying to hide the roll of her eyes.
Chapter 16 is up. It's cute!
#fanfic#wlw#bishlova#yelena belova#bishova#kate bishop#kate x yelena#just a little smutty#but mostly fluff
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In light of this being the last day of filming (according to one post), this felt appropriate.
***
The Future is Bright
“You know, it’s going to weird not going into work tomorrow,” Kensi said, curling around Deeks arm as they lay in bed. “Well, I guess it’s not work anymore.”
Today, they’d finished their very last case as agent and investigator. It had felt surreal and completely normal at the same time as they said final goodbyes around the remnants of a small goodbye celebration. Yet, as they walked out the door, it seemed like any other day.
“It does,” Deeks agreed softly. He hesitated before adding, “But, as much as I love our people, and loved the work we did to help people, I don’t regret it.”
He tipped his chin down to see her face and found contemplation. Even though Kensi had initiated their resignation and they decided it all together, he knew it would affect her more than him.
“Do you?”
“No.” Her response was soft, a little muffled by his shirt. “I’m going to miss it all and it’s going to take a lot of getting used to, but I don’t regret it all.” She twisted slightly, freeing a hand to brush through his hair.
“I’m looking forward to not being spread thin every day, spending more time with Rosa, with you.” She smiled softly, fingers drifting to Deeks’ neck. “I’m looking forward to having a future. No matter no terrifying it seems right now.”
.”We have so much to look forward to,” Deeks murmured.
“Like not waking up at the crack of dawn,” Kensi said, stretching up to kiss him. “And spending weekend mornings in bed.”
“That sounds amazing.”
Grinning, Deeks let Kensi tug him closer.
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Findo
who still pretends he’s not behind the worst mischief in the family
✨appearance headcanons: ✨
Hair’s so straight any kind of braid, ponytail and up-do just disappears after a while.
Both sides of his head are shaved because he wanted to be cool. Frustratingly, he pulls it off really good.
Upturned ears like his mother.
Pale af BUT he tans after enough time under the sun.
Average noldo height.
✨Miscellaneous headcanons: ✨
Is -roughly- the same age as Finno and Káno, therefore forming the unholy trinity that terrorised the family for years to come.
Lead troublemaker.
Memorably, had the grandiose idea of throwing the three of them down a hill in a cart, crashing down in the middle of the market. (Broken bones were the last of their problems that day).
Always stirring up shit and provoking drama.
Particularly, loves openly teasing Nelyo and Finno because he has a death wish.
Became more responsible as he grew up (aka, learnt to sneak around better).
Is Very Disliked by Náro for stealing his baby (Káno).
They don’t actually court openly but everybody just knows.
they never had the chance to voice their love
they didn’t speak for centuries before he died
he still waited
but Káno never came home
Closest to Artanis out of all his siblings.
Never wanted to let go of his baby sister.
Spoiled her to death and bragged to everyone about her.
Loves composing music.
Whenever he wants to get back at someone he writes them songs and makes sure they become really popular.
Singing voice is baritone, though speaking he sounds more like a tenor.
Preferred instrument is the flute.
aaaand one more random cute fact to compensate for the angst i sprinkled in:
Pretends to not know how to play the harp to get exclusive lessons from the family’s expert.
#silmarillion#silmarillion fanart#silmarillion headcanons#house of finwe#house of finarfin#finrod#finrod felagund#mentions of finrod/maglor#idk what the ship is called if it even has a name#a little bit of angst#but mostly fluff#sorry i couldnt resist#i am a mean person
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Firebirdshipping tooth-rotting fluff fic is posted!
SUMMARY: Accompanying Aki on a trip to the most exclusive shopping district in Neo Domino was not on Crow's schedule for today, but he decides to make the best of it and both of them end up having a blast.
WARNINGS: None! Except for food/eating; they do have a little snack.
#yugioh 5ds#fanfic#firebirdshipping#aki izayoi#crow hogan#there's a little angst in there too#but mostly fluff
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i'm currently working on a jude x driver reader req that should be out before the singapore gp (my official deadline)
#sort of angsty ???#but mostly fluff#i have so many ideas for other fics#i wish i could write everything rn
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a fluffy fic to make up for the angst i did in the last fic
#evil xisuma#evil x#wormman#worm man#hermitcraft#fanfiction#its still got some hurt/comfort#but mostly fluff#drabble
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New Jake + Jas fic dropping tomorrow! You don't want to miss it!
#helena rants#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake seresin x oc#hangman x oc#otp: jasman#oc: jasmine lane#set after the events of the movie#it's a little angsty#but mostly fluff#and also JAS BACKSTORY
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Whumptober Day 11
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No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”
Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint
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Fandom: Genshin Impact
Characters: Arataki Itto (POV), and Ushi’s here too
Placement?: No particular time, somewhere in canon present
Word Count: 2135
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“Argh, why!? Why won’t you just work!?”
Itto groaned with displeasure (not pain, definitely not pain, he was way too tough to be bothered by that) as he held the end of his strip of cloth he was using as a bandage between his teeth and wrapped the other end around his arm with his one remaining hand. He just couldn’t get it to stay on right. How was he supposed to tie it? Obviously, if the injury was on something that was not his arm, he would be fine. He knew what he was doing; it was just annoying trying to do it with one hand.
Itto grumbled again as the makeshift bandages refused to cooperate and got tangled up in his fingers instead. Stupid Cryo Abyss mage… it just had to go and shoot him with ice chunks, huh? Of course, he won that battle—five whole Abyss mages and they had nothing on him!—but he wasn’t exactly as unscathed as he would have hoped. Nothing too bad, but those cuts were making a lot of blood, which was annoying. He could make it stop with just a bit of pressure from the bandages and all that, though—no big deal, really. He got this!
“Mr. Oni, are you sure you don’t want help?”
“What—huh?” Itto got distracted and looked over to his right and downwards. He was getting so focused in his work, that he almost didn’t realize the kid was still here.
The small child—Izumi, right?—looked up at him with a perfectly calm and sincere expression, just staring at him with wide little eyes. “You look like you’re having trouble.”
“Heh, what? Me? Trouble? Nah, no, I’m perfectly fine. Please, don’t worry about me. Just go on back home, and I promise, I’ll be out of here and far away before you know it.”
They were resting under a large tree, right now, a short distance from this girl’s home village. They were close enough that the village was still in view at the base of the hill and past some trees, but far enough they no one would care about him being here, probably.
“But your ankle’s twisted, right?” Izumi pointed out. “You can’t walk all that great.”
Ugh, right, that. Itto didn’t know what to do about that one. Stupid injury that he couldn’t see… if it was all on the inside, what was he supposed to do about it? He couldn’t just bandage it up and call it a day.
“Pfft, that?” Itto said out loud. “Not a problem at all! I can still walk, kinda. I got one good leg and that’s all I need.”
Izumi looked at him like she didn’t believe him.
“Argh, fine!” he conceded with great frustration. “I’m going to be stuck here for a little while. Just a little while, okay? Just until it stops throbbing so much. So, you can go back and tell your parents that I’m not going to bother them, alright? No need to worry about this Oni causing problems, no-sir-ee!”
“Well, I can, but…” Izumi paused to think about it for a moment, tapping her finger on her lower lip. “I don’t get it. Why would you cause problems? You helped us.”
“Well, umm, yes?” How was Itto supposed to respond to that, exactly?
“You fought the Abyss Mages and protected the village. So…I wanted to come over here and say ‘thank you.’ Thank you, Mr. Oni, for all your help,” she ended with a satisfied smile.
Oh. Well. She really just said that. That was…a thing. “Y-Yeah! That’s right!” Itto quickly pulled his swagger back together to counter his initial stunned expression. “I did do that. You’re welcome.”
“So now, I can help you in return with your injuries.” She pointed to his arm.
“H-Hey now, I said I could handle—”
“I think I need to say ‘sorry,’ too,” Izumi kept going, looking like she was thinking really hard. “See, Mom always told me, that when someone does something nice, you should say ‘thank you.’ She also said that, if someone needs help, you should help them. She also says that if nice travelers come by, it’s the right thing to do to give them hostal-army. Um, wait, that doesn’t sound right…umm…we should give them food.”
Izumi took a deep breath and then continued, conviction in her eyes and hands on her hips. “So, I didn’t understand why she and Dad and the others told you to leave right after you just got done helping us! Those mean Abyss mages might have done something really bad if you didn’t help. You’re way stronger than all the adults in the village! I mean, it makes sense—you also have a Vision and a cow, and no one in the village has a Vision or a tiny cow like yours.”
“T-Tiny cow?” Itto had to hold it in really hard to keep from laughing out loud. “You mean Ushi?”
“Yeah!” Her eyes lit up instantly. “He has a name? C-Can I see him again? Please?”
“Eh, yeah, sure. He’s resting right now in the ‘subspace’ thing or whatever it’s called, but I’m sure he won’t mind.” He couldn’t say no to a kid, right? “Alright…Ushi, go!” He stood up just enough to be able to throw him into the grass, an action that hurt way more than he should have, but oh well. He plopped back down on the grass just a second later, feeling the need to massage his poor ankle.
Ushi grunted upon release, wagging his tail and looking around as if expecting danger. When there wasn’t any, he turned back to Itto and moo-ed at him.
“H-Hey!” Itto protested. “I am resting! What do you mean I keep straining myself; you have no idea what a fraction of my true power is!
“Wow!” Izumi bounced up, breath catching with awe as she looked down at Ushi. “He’s so cute!”
“H-Hey! Ushi isn’t cute! He’s…he’s really tough!”
“Well I think he’s cute and tough,” Izumi decided, reaching down to pet Ushi on the head. For some reason, Ushi let her, and he even seemed happy about it, too.
“Well, anyways.” Izumi stood up again, hands back on her hips like she was back to business. “I’m going to help you with your bandages now. I’ve never bled before as much as you’re bleeding, but I watched Mom bandage up a wound Dad got from a hunting accident, so I know how it works. But actually…” She thought about it with intensity again. “I think I remember Mom cleaning it first. Shouldn’t you clean it?”
“Ugh…well…” For the record, he did wipe it down a little with a dry rag, which along with the bandage cloth was part of that ‘emergency kit’ Shinobu insisted he should carry around, which was usually totally unnecessary, except for those few times it was. He’s pretty sure she packed some kind of cleaning alcohol for him too once, but he thinks he threw it out to make room for his Onikabuto, so… “I didn’t exactly have any water or anything with me, but yeah, I cleaned it. Kinda.” Except now it was bleeding all over the place again, so some good that did him.
“Mm, okay then! Then…do you have cleaning cloths? Like a rag?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Okay! I’ll go to the river to get them wet!” she decided. “Be right back!”
And she was right back, surprisingly quickly for someone with such little legs. She ran up to him with these rags she got from somewhere and slapped them on his arm with a splat. She looked very pleased with herself as she helped him finish doing the cleaning and then grabbed the bandages to work on. “There you go, Mr. Oni! That looks…mostly right! Not as neat as when Mom does it though…” Upon closer inspection, her confidence appeared to falter, an emotion which Itto felt the need to quickly rectify.
“Pfft, you kidding? You did awesome! Look at that! I bet even my deputy couldn’t do a better job!” Shinobu very likely could, of course, but she wasn’t here right now, so it was fine. “Oh, right, and it’s ‘Itto,’ by the way.” It dawned on him after she called him ‘Mr. Oni’ yet again that he had, quite surprisingly, never actually introduced himself. “Arataki ‘Numero Uno’ Itto! The One and Oni!”
“Oh? Cool!” Izumi nodded in confidence. “Itto! That’s a nice name. Hmm, I feel like I should do something else now…oh, yeah! I should wash the rags!”
“A-Ah! It’s fine—I’ll keep them and just…throw them out or something later. They’re all gross and bloody and…stuff.” Really, they were. Itto felt weird letting her get that on her hands; it felt like a safety hazard or something. A health hazard? Which wasn’t usually something Itto would think about, but some strange instinct was welling up from deep down inside of him that probably had something to do with one of Shinobu’s lectures he couldn’t remember.
“Well, that’s okay.” Izumi shrugged, settling back down. “I don’t mind blood. Some people don’t like looking at blood, but I think it’s fine. Mom says it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and blood’s on the inside, so it counts. Oh, Itto! I was just thinking. You have a Geo Vision, and Geo is rocks, so can you make rocks? Can you make a rock fort? No one in my village has a Vision, so I don’t know how it works.”
“Oh, ah, well? Kind of?” Itto thought about it, because he really should be the expert in this and he couldn’t let her down by not being the expert, right? “Like, I can make Geo thingies which are kind of rock-shaped, but they aren’t like ‘rock’ rocks, you get what I’m saying? They’re glowy solid-ish things. It’s got tons of potential, trust me. I can make really cool-looking stuff, too, but right now my energy is kind of, well…”
“Oh no, that’s fine!” Izumi assured him. “I already got to see you fight, remember? You did that spiky stick thing! It was really cool. I hope I get a Vision one day. Do you think if I ask the gods for one every single day, it will happen? How did you get yours?”
“Ummmm…” He actually had no idea how it happened; it literally came in his sleep. “Because I’m awesome, of course! And don’t worry, I didn’t have to go begging the gods for it or anything, so you don’t have to either. You just have to be awesome! And I say, you’re already doing a great job of it.”
“Hehe, cool!” She laughed, then immediately going into that thinking mode again. “Hmm…Itto? Is it okay if I stay so we can talk? You’re not going anywhere, right? Because of the ankle?”
Well, she wasn’t wrong. It still hurt a quite a lot. “Nope, I am not. And it’s fine with me! But…umm…you’re sure your parents wouldn’t like…get upset or anything like that…?”
They sure weren’t happy to see him, that much was obvious. It didn’t bother Itto all that much, though—he was used to it. At least they didn’t go throwing beans at him—that was the worst—so maybe they were at least a little grateful? Maybe? What happened was, Itto was just out alone searching for Onikabuto, when he heard a few people screaming, and then he saw these Abyss Mages causing trouble for who-knows-what reason. So of course he beat them up. What else was he to do? Just watch? Nah, that wasn’t the Arataki way, not one bit. But of course, as soon as he was finished, they were all scared and like ‘please, leave us!’ and ‘I’m sorry, please let us be to make repairs’ and ‘we are but a humble village, we have nothing you want’ and blah blah blah. Like, really, why did they think he showed up? To rob them or something? So, he very kindly limped away from that place and said ‘good riddance.’ He found his spot by the tree to deal with the injuries alone, but like, surely no more than fifteen minutes later, here came Izumi.
“It’s okay,” Izumi spoke without a worry in the world. “I’m old enough to play outside by myself, so I can do what I want. They’d only be mad if I got hurt or something. Really!”
“Well then!” Itto laughed as he settled in, watching as Ushi got closer to Izumi at her coaxing and let her scratch him on the head again. “Prepare for some of the best bits of wisdom and best stories you ever heard!”
#whumptober2022#no.11#sloppy bandages#self-done first aid#fandom#fic#genshin impact#arataki itto#basically itto making friends with this random child#fantastic racism in the background#but mostly fluff
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so i may or may not already have a fic idea for mr bast and i may or may not have already started planning it out and added it to my wips page...
#update#idk i just need to give him something happy#though there's gonna be angst too#but mostly fluff
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Happy Birthday, my love
3,216 words. rated t.
summary: Carlos Reyes is determined to make his fiancé's birthday the most perfect day ever.
‘Are you wearing my hoodie?’ TK asks half an hour later as he strides up behind Carlos, hugs him from behind and kisses his neck.
Carlos turns from the stove, where he flips pancakes, to face his fiancé and offers a smirk.
‘Good morning to you too, fiancé,’ He says, cupping TK's face in his hands and kissing him gently.
‘Couldn’t wait for me for breakfast?’ TK asks as he hops up to sit on the counter beside the stove.
‘Actually, I was planning to surprise you with breakfast in bed,’ Carlos tells him, motioning to a breakfast tray on the counter.
read more on ao3
#my writing#nancygillianmvp#my fic#911 Lone Star#9-1-1 Lone Star#TK Strand#Carlos Reyes#Tarlos#911 Lone Star fic#Tarlos Fic#tk strand/carlos reyes#ao3#fluff#hurt/comfort#but mostly fluff#there is cake and cuteness#and owen strand gets put in his place#what more could you want#nancy gillian & tk strand#nancy gillian & tk strand friendship
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I wanted to try drawing them with tails to see what the hype was about. I get it now.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls fanart#broppy#trolls Floyd#trolls brozone#trolls poppy#trolls branch#trolls clay#trolls bruce#trolls john dory#trolls band together#tbt#trolls 3#they’re like tiny fraggles#or if a fraggle and a doozer had a baby#trolls with tails#I like drawing them without tails a little more but the tails are cute too#I mostly wanted to draw the brozone duckling chain#I think Floyd would pet his tail fluff as an anxious/nervous habit#or his ‘baloobius’ as one might call it#if you know you know
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