Hi!! I've been working on a short Hollanov camping fic: enemies to lovers??
(EX) Orgasm denial (if you squint), bossy bottom Shane, humiliation kink, sub top Ilya- Svetlana invites Shane and Ilya to spend 72 hours camping together, realizing they like each other more than they thought.
Here are some twt post teasers-hoping to post tomorrow night! 5k-ish wc. Should be one part, but maybe I'll add more!
Can I request 18. I know autumn camping trips are totally aesthetic but it’s cold as shit in this tent, can we snuggle? for either Boggie or Flarrie? Your choice.
- @michelangelinden
You say or, I say and. Same thing, right? /j
Anyways, this one got a bit long, but oh well. This AU just turned into a whole thing in my head, so.... Idk, maybe there will be more of it in the future? Hope you like it! Love you!!!!
The Great Wilson Family Camping Adventure felt like it was doomed even before it began.
Carrie's dad had been going on and on about this plan for months, how he was going to take his kids out into the woods so they could all get to know each other and become closer as a family, away from all the regular pressure of work and school. Yup, kids, plural.
Ever since Trevor had discovered that his old ex-girlfriend had a son, his son, life in the Wilson household had been a rollercoaster. Carrie was pretty sure she’d never forget coming into the kitchen and discovering her dad on a video call with some woman she’d never seen before. Okay, the video call thing wasn’t that uncommon, though he usually did that sort of stuff in the den. What was unusual about it was the set of her dad’s jaw, the hand clenched around a glass so hard that Carrie was afraid it would shatter, and the even tone he only used when he was nearing a breaking point and didn’t want to show it.
It had taken some time for the whole story to come out, but eventually Carrie had pieced together that her dad had dated this girl back before meeting Carrie’s mom, and that they’d broken up because she was going out with someone else behind his back. The woman had moved away from the area, neither her nor Trevor realizing she was pregnant.
The next part of the story was blurry at best, since the only one who was both willing and able to talk about it had been six or seven at the time. But as near as Carrie could figure out, there had been some… issues in the life of Dierdra Shaw leading to many things, including a CPS investigation and her son, Bobby, going to live with his grandparents in Los Angeles.
And so, by some weird, cruel twist of fate, one of Julie’s bandmates turned out to be Carrie’s biological half-brother.
Carrie didn’t have any issues with Bobby, per se, but… it wasn’t like they had much in common. He liked alt-rock and lived in the same pair of vans 24/7. She preferred pop and power ballads and would change shoes at least twice a day, thanks to dance classes and various events. And her dad, their dad, was making all of them go camping together. For ‘family bonding’ or something.
But at ‘family dinner’ a few nights before they left, her dad had asked Bobby if there was anything he wanted to bring to make it more comfortable or fun. It was a reasonable question, but instead of bringing up food or a space heater like Trevor was probably expecting, Bobby had hesitantly asked if it would be okay for him to bring Reggie, his bandmate and boyfriend.
That night, after Bobby had confirmed all the plans for the trip and gone home, Carrie had asked her dad if Flynn could join them as well, since Reggie was coming. Her dad had made excuses about how Reggie was just coming since Bobby didn’t know either of them that well, but Carrie had refused to budge. Whether her dad acknowledged it or not, this was an awkward situation for her too.
“Okay, I think that’s our site.”
Her dad’s overly cheery tone pulled Carrie out of her thoughts. She looked up from her phone just as he parked the SUV. Her dad and Reggie had both tried to get people talking at the start of the three-hour trek, but with Carrie and Bobby stuck in the middle together, things hadn’t exactly gotten chatty. It had quickly turned into an ‘everyone has their headphones on and is ignoring each other’ type of drive, apart from Reggie and Trevor in the front seat. Carrie really hoped Bobby couldn’t tell that she spent most of the time texting with her girlfriend, who was literally sitting right behind her.
Look, it was just awkward, okay? She and Bobby had always been chill, but they weren’t friends, not really. To her, he was Julie’s bandmate and Reggie’s boyfriend. He probably thought of her as Julie’s friend or Flynn’s girlfriend or something. But her brother? No, that was just too weird.
But she also cared about her dad. She hadn’t seen him this anxiously excited in years. So she could do this. And she had Flynn to keep her sane while they all did something Carrie was 99% sure her dad hadn’t done since he was little.
“Ah, smell that fresh mountain air,” Trevor declared enthusiastically as he climbed out of the car.
Bobby still had one earbud in, but at Reggie’s encouraging nod, he said, “Yeah, it’s nice.”
Carrie was pretty sure her dad’s smile was going to blind someone if he kept it up. She slid out of the car and walked quickly around to the trunk. “The tent is going to be big enough for all five of us, right?” she asked.
“Sure it will be,” Trevor responded, opening the trunk and pulling out a big, blue cooler that Carrie knew he must have borrowed from Julie’s dad. “Bobby, you wanna help me get it set up?” he asked, pulling the tent (also most likely belonging to the Molinas) out of the back.
Bobby shifted uncomfortably but shrugged. “Sure,” he said quietly.
Reggie followed the two men over to the middle of the campsite, where there was a large flat area for the tent. Carrie started pulling bags of food out of the trunk while they dealt with the tent.
“How you holding up,” Flynn asked quietly, taking a bag from her.
“I’m fine I guess,” Carrie answered, leaning on her girlfriend’s shoulder.
Flynn raised their eyebrows, making it clear that they knew it was a lie, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she helped Carrie unpack the van, setting all the food on the wooden picnic table, which looked about two minutes from collapsing, and piling the sleeping bags in the backseat until the tent was ready for them.
Then, because her dad, Bobby, and Reggie were still struggling with the tent, Carrie carefully started on dinner. Thank goodness her dad had brought the little propane stove, since she had no idea how to cook over a fire. Flynn managed to get it turned on and they got some water boiling without too many issues. Carrie poured in what should be enough pasta for everyone to cook, standing guard so it didn’t boil over. Flynn moved behind her and wrapped their arms around her waist.
“You having a good time back there?” Carrie snarked as Flynn rested their chin on her shoulder.
“I’m watching my hot girlfriend make me dinner, I’m having a great time,” Flynn retorted.
“Flattery won’t get you food any sooner,” Carrie sassed, ignoring the flush in her cheeks at both the compliment and her partner’s proximity. “You’re still gonna have to wait till this finishes.”
“Awww, not even a little taste?” Flynn asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “Someone has to make sure it’s not poisoned.”
“Wow, you think I’d poison you?” Carrie responded, tone dripping with mocking sweetness. “Please, I could think of a million better ways to kill you if that’s what I wanted, sweetie.”
“Oh yeah, like what?” Flynn challenged, leaning in closer so Carrie felt the words against her cheek.
“Who’s poisoning dinner?” Trevor asked, coming up to them with a confused expression.
Carrie rolled her eyes. “No one, dad, it was a joke,” she informed him as she checked the pasta. It seemed to be done, so she carefully lifted it off the stove.
“Here, let me help,” Bobby said, grabbing the strainer and holding it out for her.
Carrie was surprised by the gesture but carefully poured the pasta into the offered container. Once she mixed it with the sauce, they all settled down around the table to eat. Carrie was glad when Flynn immediately settled against her side, letting Carrie lean on her without it being so obvious to the rest of the group.
“So, Bobby, what’s your favorite thing to do out here in the woods?” Carrie’s dad asked, grinning widely.
“Uh, I mean, I’ve never been here,” Bobby responded uncertainly. “Lola didn’t like driving this far, so we usually stayed closer to the city.”
The table fell into an awkward silence for a minute. Carrie could feel the tension building with every passing second, but she had no idea how to break it without making things worse. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it broken. Because this was how it was now, all the time. At school events and barbeque parties at the Molinas’ and the ‘family dinners’ that her dad had never even tried to make happen before he realized he had another kid. It was mean, but a part of Carrie wished all that tension would just snap like a rubber band, hurling everyones’ lives back to how they were before.
“Well you can’t have a good camping trip without s’mores,” Reggie commented finally.
“Yes!” Trevor exclaimed, locking onto the topic. “I haven’t made them in years, but I have marshmallows and everything so we can give it a shot after dinner.”
“Did you get Reeses?” Flynn asked. “Peanut butter s’mores are God’s gift to humanity.”
The conversation continued between the three of them, both Carrie and Bobby staying quiet. Carrie was endlessly grateful to her partner for being willing to come on this dumpster fire of a camping trip.
She glanced over at Bobby, trying to gauge his mood. He was staring at the table, not quite angrily, but… something. Carrie couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was intense, like poking your head into another room only to realize that a horror movie was playing inside. Scary, but not angry. Just… intense and unexpected. She was surprised to realize that she didn’t want to run away from it.
“Okay, Bobby, you want to help me build a fire?” her dad asked, pushing up to his feet.
Carrie tried to ignore the little sting that came from Bobby being the only one on the receiving end of the invite. She was getting used to that.
“Sure,” Bobby responded quietly, sticking his dirty bowl in the dish bin and heading over to the firepit.
The two men crouched by the rusty metal enclosure, Bobby reaching inside to carefully lay down some sticks. Reggie watched them for a minute, his face a mix of love and concern, then turned to Flynn and Carrie.
“You guys mind helping me with the dishes?” he asked, grabbing a bucket. “It’s a lot faster with more than one set of hands.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Flynn agreed.
Carrie quietly followed the pair over to the bathrooms, where Reggie filled up his bucket with warm water from the spigot outside.
“Hey, you doing okay?” Reggie asked Carrie as they walked back.
She looked up at him, startled by the question. “Shouldn’t you be asking your boyfriend that?” she responded, fighting to keep the instinctive snap out of her voice.
“I have been,” Reggie answered. “And this whole thing is really hard for him. I can’t imagine it’s any easier for you. So are you doing okay?”
Carrie felt Flynn’s hand slip into hers as she considered how to answer. It wasn’t like she and Reggie were close at all, the only one of the guys she felt she really was close with was Alex, and maybe Willie. But they’d spent some time watching lousy Hallmark movies together after everyone else fell asleep at movie night. She’d bought him pizza for lunch. He’d given her a ride a few times. They weren’t quite friends, but…
“Not really,” she admitted. “It’s nothing against Bobby, it’s just this whole thing is… a lot.”
“That makes sense,” Flynn said, squeezing her hand.
They reached the campsite then and Reggie grabbed the dish soap and sponge to start doing the dishes. Flynn picked up a towel to dry them once he was done. Left without a task, Carrie sat back down at the picnic table, watching her dad and Bobby build their fire.
Just then, Bobby glanced back at her, that unreadable expression still on his face. “Hey Carrie, could you bring me the lighter?” he called.
Carrie raised an eyebrow and was about to point out that there was clearly a book of matches sticking out of his back pocket, but suddenly some part of his expression made sense. He wasn’t asking for a lighter, he was asking for a lifeline. Until Reggie had mentioned it a few minutes ago, Carrie hadn’t thought much about how this would feel from Bobby’s side of things. But suddenly finding out that some famous music star was your biological father, being pulled into a family you had no concept of, it couldn’t be easy. Especially with all of said biological father’s attention on you whenever you were in the same room.
“Yeah, just a sec,” she responded, glancing around the table for a minute before spotting the little green lighter. She grabbed it and joined Bobby and her dad by the firepit. She handed over the lighter, then placed herself between Bobby and her dad as she gave the little twig tent a skeptical look. “Is that actually gonna work?” she questioned.
Bobby shot her a grateful look at making some space between him and their dad, but didn’t comment. “Watch and learn,” he chuckled instead, setting a piece of crumpled paper inside and setting it on fire.
Slowly but surely, the sticks started to catch. Bobby carefully fed larger branches and eventually logs into the dancing flames, looking more at peace here than Carrie had ever seen him outside of band practice and the occasional group movie night. She settled on a log bench beside the fire, watching the sparks fly up into the darkening sky. Flynn joined her a few minutes later, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Carrie rested her head gratefully on her girlfriend’s shoulder.
Her dad went back to the car to find a proper camp chair, complaining about his back, and Carrie could see some of the tension start to leave Bobby’s body as the distance between them grew. Reggie dropped onto another log right behind Bobby, and he leaned back against his legs, shooting a smile up at his boyfriend and receiving a quick peck on the lips. Carrie smiled as she watched them. Regardless of her relationship to Bobby, she was glad to see the two of them so happy together. That little spark of joy at seeing another happy queer couple didn’t go away just because one of them was suddenly your half-brother.
When her dad returned, he started telling stories. Carrie suspected it was an attempt to avoid the awkward silence. But she’d heard most of them before, so she let herself tune him out in favor of breathing in the clean air of the woods and the fruity scent of Flynn’s body wash. Their sweater was soft against her skin, her fingers tracing patterns on Carrie’s shoulder. If her dad wasn’t literally five feet away, Carrie would probably have leaned up and kissed her. Not that her dad was homophobic, but… kissing in front of your dad just felt wrong.
Bobby seemed to have fallen into a similar zoned-out state, poking the fire every so often with a long stick and leaning back to rest his head against Reggie’s knees. One of the bassist’s hands wove slowly through Bobby’s dark hair as the night fell. A few stars appeared in the sky, scattered with the rising sparks from the fire. Trevor finally fell silent, just watching the fire. Carrie was glad. She got wanting to bond with the son you never knew you had, but he’d been laying it on way too heavy, clearly making everyone uncomfortable.
If there was one thing Carrie had learned in the past few years, it was that you couldn’t force relationships to happen. She’d tried it a million times, with Nick, with Julie, with Flynn. She’d tried to make things fit what she wanted without doing the hard work to reach that real place of trust, and it had caused pain for everyone. She’d made her peace with all of them now, counting Nick and Julie as her best friends and stealing kisses with Flynn after shows, but it had taken a long time. Family wasn’t built in a day.
After a while, Bobby softly informed them all that the fire was low enough for roasting marshmallows. Reggie jumped up almost immediately, almost making Bobby fall with how fast he ran to grab the s’more supplies from the table. Carrie’s dad seemed almost as excited, handing out roasting sticks and moving his chair so he could try and make his without having to sit on the ground.
Reggie quickly readied his stick and started toasting his marshmallow, giggling about something with Bobby as he slowly turned the stick. Bobby just smiled and sat down beside him with his own sugary treat.
“Yeah I have no idea how to do this,” Carrie hissed to her girlfriend, watching the boys in confusion.
Flynn laughed, then pulled her to her feet. “I got you, babe,” they promised. “Ray taught me all the tricks.”
Carrie rolled her eyes affectionately and let Flynn stick a marshmallow onto the end of her stick. They settled beside the fire as Flynn showed her how to find the hot spots and keep rotating her rod so the sugar didn’t burn. At one point, she glanced up and caught Bobby’s eye over the hot coals. He smiled. It was a bit awkward, but well… having a civil conversation with Julie was awkward for a while too. She smiled back.
Later, after they’d probably all had too much sugar and Bobby had put out the fire, they brushed their teeth in the dirty, communal bathroom and changed into pajamas. Carrie was glad she’d brought some thicker, fluffy pants to sleep in, because she was starting to shiver by the time they got back to the tent. Reggie had clearly not had the same thought, as he was wearing thin, red flannel pants and curling into Bobby’s side almost immediately when they left the bathrooms.
Her dad flipped on the little space heater in the tent, then crawled into his own sleeping bag.
“Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me seeing,” he muttered sleepily as he slumped down onto his pillow.
Carrie fought the urge to burst out laughing. When she glanced over at the others in the dim light of Reggie’s flashlight, she could see similar expressions of amusement on their faces, though Bobby looked a bit red as well.
“He does realize we’re literally all sex-averse or something, right?” Flynn whispered.
“I haven’t even tried having that conversation with him yet,” Carrie responded wryly. “Can you imagine telling your dad that he didn’t really have to go through the extreme awkwardness of giving you The Talk because you never wanted to do that anyways?”
Everyone laughed and settled into their sleeping bags, Carrie the closest to the entrance with Flynn beside her and Bobby and Reggie near the back. The space heater was in the middle of the space, but it wasn’t really warming it up very quickly. Carrie could hear Reggie shivering after a few minutes, and then a whispered voice.
“Hey, I know camping trips are supposed to be an aesthetic or something, but it’s freezing,” Reggie hissed, probably to Bobby. “Can we please cuddle?”
Carrie heard a low chuckle from Bobby, and then the swishing sounds of the two moving closer together. She couldn’t quite make out their hushed words, but she smiled anyways. Yeah, this was the most awkward (and only) camping trip she’d ever been on, but she was glad they were here.
Well, okay, she wasn’t hugely fond of here here, she could live without the smell of woodsmoke in her hair and the pine needles that kept appearing in literally everything, but it was nice to be out with her dad and Flynn and Reggie and her brother. Stepbrother? Half brother? They could figure that one out later. But for the first time since she’d walked in on her dad giving his laptop a death glare, she felt like they might actually be something, not just blood, but maybe something akin to family.
“You doing okay?” Flynn hummed in the darkness.
“Yeah, I am,” Carrie answered honestly.
“Good, because I’m freezing,” Flynn stated. “Aesthetics are overrated, I want cuddles.”
“You stole that from Reggie,” Carrie accused, giggling.
“You got a problem with it?” Flynn snarked back.
“No,” Carrie chuckled, shifting over and partially unzipping her sleeping bag to wrap her arms around her girlfriend.
“Good,” Flynn said, curling closer and nuzzling into the crook of Carrie’s neck. “Cause I need some of that hot Wilson body heat right now.”
Carrie smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her partner’s head. “Goodnight, love you.”
Also roommate/flatmate stuff and Friends to lovers or more like FWB to lovers 👀
34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.
From the first draft of the second 🏕chapter 👀
"Wanna try going faster?"
You only nodded, his wet hair brushing against your skin as you moved. Having him this close almost drove you crazy.
When you turned up the speed his hand wandered further down, stopping right over where you wanted him to touch you most. And you did your best not to shiver or whimper in need.
"Concentrate!" Joel chuckled behind you when you slightly lost control of the jetski. You quickly teared at the handlebars, making the jetski move straight forward again.
"Perfect!" He hummed, his breath tickling the skin of your neck and giving you goosebumps.
How were you supposed to concentrate on anything but him?!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It’s finally done. This was really fun to write, so pls enjoy yourself while reading this as well ;)
Thanks to my beta reader @michellespenscratchz for her amazing work <3 And also thanks to all the people who supported me while writing it. You guys are awesome.
Being stranded turns a regular mission into an impromptu camping trip. In a storm. Crowe and Sonitus work together to herd their glaives (wet cats they swear) to actually sleep. Everybody has a sweet spot- a melting point- and Crowe knows them all.
The day could not get any worse. Crowe had had it up to here with her idiots. Yes, they were crammed in a shitty tent pitched hastily- the thunderstorm raging at the time had allowed for nothing less- but at least they could try to dry out. Her pack of mages were the only sensible ones here, drying sopping clothes with soft puffs of fire magic. The others were too busy griping about their situation- waiting for pickup at a haven after said storm washed their transport out- and not being of any real use. Crowe shook her head at their bickering and turned to see her mages pull out sleeping bags from the armiger, setting up for a damp yet relaxing night. It wasn’t so bad, the storm now a steady downpour rather than the lightning bath it had been an hour earlier.
Sonitus and Axis were the only boys who seemed to have their shit together- changing into spare clothes and settling in, sharing ration packs. Sonitus caught her eye, nodding towards where Nyx, Pelna, and Libertus sat squished together, whining about the stupid flooding getting their boots wet. Crowe sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes in response. She cocked an eyebrow, jerking her chin towards Luche, quietly growling into his earpiece, and Tredd, silently stewing in irritation.
Sonitus rubbed a hand wearily down his face, nodding tiredly. If they didn’t get their respective morons to sleep soon they would be pissy all the next day and then some. He turned back to Axis, grabbing his blades and a whetstone from the void. Axis watched with dark eyes, blinking slowly, hair drying into a floppy mess over his eyes. The glaive snuggled into his sleeping bag, belly down, head resting on folded arms. Ready to watch the proceedings.
Crowe had finally gotten her boys to change and attempt to bed down, but they still wouldn’t shut up long enough for the rain or rhythmic scrape of Sonitus sharpening his weapons to drain some of their tension. A more hands on approach was needed. Everybody has a melting point, and she knew all of theirs well.
She plopped unto Libertus’s back, forcing him down further into his bag with a grunt of frustration. He squirmed, bumping into both Pelna and Nyx, gaining growls from both men.
“We are already packed in like sardines, can you not-” Libertus started, but squeaked as Crowe tickled the back of his neck where his braids left it exposed.
“Can you not. Shut up and get some sleep.” She chuckled, using her weight to pin him, nails following his neck as he squirmed under her.
“Ok, okokok- just get off!” Libertus nearly squealed, much to their amusement. Libertus wriggled, seemed to find a comfy spot, and lay there, still grumbling to himself. Crowe snorted, and then slowly started to scratch across his shoulders, using her nails to get down through his shirt. Libertus groaned and relaxed, asking her to go higher or lower, slowly starting to drop off under the gentle scritches. Crowe grinned to herself as his requests and quips started to slur, his head drooping down. She followed the contours of his spine, gently digging in, until his breathing evened out, deep and slow, minutes later.
“That was quick.” Nyx chuckled, watching from where he lay squished up against his now sleeping brother at arms.
“Magic hands. Now roll over.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Make me-” Crowe wriggled her fingers threateningly at his sides, and Nyx thought better about his actions, rolling onto his front with a grumble. Pelna snickered in the darkness.
Crowe carefully got up and stepped over Libertus’s form as the man started to snore. She settled on Nyx’s back and began to run her fingers through his hair, gently untangling and scritching at his scalp. Nyx made a low noise of appreciation and settled in, turning his head for her to get better access. Once there were no more tangles, she scratched down his scalp, from forehead, to behind his ears, to the knot of bone on the back of his skull. Nyx purred at her ministrations and groaned as she continued, following the path of his spine down. Once she reached his lumbar she started her way back up, this time firmly massaging into the tense muscle along the sides of his vertebrae. Up she rubbed, back along the same path to his forehead. Nyx moaned, going boneless in her hands. Back and forth she whittled away at his tension and irritation until he finally passed out with a groan.
Crowe studied her handiwork, standing and tucking in her snoring “brother” and the “hero”. Idiots, the lot of them.
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and caught the gaze of a grinning Pelna. She rolled her eyes, carefully stepping over to settle behind his head. The young man immediately laid back, setting his head in her lap, his teeth bright in the gloom.
“Eager, are we?” Crowe smiled, ruffling through his hair. Pelna made a happy little noise in response, eyes sliding closed. Ever a cuddlebug, Pelna was always down for physical affection. He turned his head and pressed into her hands, murmuring in quiet pleasure.
Crowe methodically ran her hands through his mop of dark curls, picking out any tangles, earning little pleased noises as she went. They chatted quietly about nothing in particular, frustration draining away now that nobody was actively griping. Crowe ruffled Pelna’s hair, then smoothed it back down. Messing it up, and fixing it. Back and forth.
The young glaive had no resistance to his hair being played with, going slack in her lap. Crowe urged him to slide back into his sleeping bag, which he somehow managed while mostly unconscious. She chuckled, zipping him in, and played with his hair until he was completely unresponsive.
Sonitus glanced over as he switched blades, one now finished. Crowe had made good progress, three down- two to go. Sonitus slowly stood, careful not to step on the lightly dozing Axis, and plopped down up against Tredd. The redhead sat with his knees tucked under his folded arms, chin resting on tense arms. He stared irritably into the dark, lost in his own thoughts. Sonitus put his back solidly against Tredd’s, leaning in a bit to share warmth in the damp chill. Tredd made no outward sign he even noticed but Sonitus could tell he was not quite as tense as he was a second ago. Hard to think you are alone with another body pressed in against yours.
Sonitus inspected the edge on his blade, noting how the day of Magitek slaughter had worn down the edge. A single whetstone would be sufficient, but with Luche and Tredd still firmly brooding he pulled his favorite set of whetstones out of the void, setting them down in front of him. A fine polish would be needed tonight- coarse stone down to fine stone. Starting with rough stone he dragged it down the blade, evenly, rhythmically. Tredd took no notice, still rooted in his thoughts. Sonitus smiled to himself and started to sing softly into the night air.
Axis looked up, startled out of his dozing, and then settled down. The Bellum clan was known for its songs and dances. Songs to work to, to make labor pass and keep spirits up. Dances to keep their joints flexible and to keep coordination high. War chants to intimidate enemies and to cheer warriors. But their secret weapon was known only by few outside their clan. A Bellum lullaby sung in safety to someone they cared for was incredibly potent. Axis had seen it in use several times- if you were quiet and kept your ears open a non-bellum could hear the clan’s magic at work. Lucians scoffed at the notion of magic outside the Lucis Caelum and Oracle lines, but the Galahdians knew better. There are older magics than that of kings.
Sonitus sung gently as he polished his steel with a fine whetstone. It was an old Galahdian song, in an even older dialect, but Axis could follow along, mouthing the words. It was about the ocean, waves on the sea, rocking the sailors to sleep, the waves holding her children close, bidding them goodnight, sailing on stars….
Axis was unaware of where the tune of the song faded into that of dreams, but Sonitus registered the sudden lack of motion from where Axis was following along. Amusement washed through him and his attention turned back as Tredd made a low noise of irritation and slouched further. Sonitus continued on, willing warmth and safety to flow through the tune.
Tredd was a fighter, Sonitus would give him that. He could feel the redhead nodding off against his back. Tension slowly left his muscles, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Tredd fought back as best he could, struggling to stay awake. Stubborn like a kid fighting sleep.
Sonitus sang ever softer, the song naturally looping, designed to lull even the most valiant of souls. Tredd slid down onto his sleeping bag, grudgingly turning to curl around where Sonitus sat. His eyes closed of their own accord, the rhythm hushing his growl of irritation to a muted grumble. It took only a few minutes more for the furrow between his brows to relax and a few more for his body to go slack.
Sonitus did not stop singing as Tredd started to snore, just in case. Crowe stalked over carefully after tucking in her pack of mages. Sonitus stood as slowly as he could, desperate not to wake Tredd, who was snuggling into the warm hollow that he vacated. Sonitus's face made an interesting sight, cringing in the dark at any errant twitch from the man under him, yet still managing to sing. Even though Tredd clearly was out he kept moving as if dealing with live explosives.
Crowe bit back a chuckle, gently tucking the bag closed around the sleeping Furia. She turned and gave him a tired smile and turned to the last glaive standing. Sonitus met her gaze and nodded in agreement, gathering up their sleeping bags. They picked their steps silently over to their prey.
Luche sat cross legged on his sleeping bag, pouring over terrain maps by a tiny flame dancing in his palm. The shadows played across his face, deepening beneath his eyes. If they had just moved a little faster they could have outrun the storm, but no, dropships just had to be waiting in just the right spot to ruin their return. It was almost as if they somehow knew the Kingsglaive would be returning that way over the plains...Luche growled low in his throat. Drautos had better get his intel together or he swore to Ramuh…
Crowe snatched the map out of his hands, earning a startled half-yelp, and then the beginning of a curt telling off before she pressed her palm over his mouth.
“Don’t care, Luche. Bed. Now.” Crowe snarled as Sonitus spread their sleeping bags alongside his. The blonde flinched when Sonitus wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him down. Luche squirmed in Sonitus's arms, resisting, until Crowe forced herself into his space. She wriggled in, grabbing his arm and forcing him to wrap around her. Luche froze in a mix of exhaustion and shock. Crowe scootched back until her back pressed firmly against Luche's chest. Sonitus completed the Lazarus sandwich, cuddling forward against his back. Luche wanted to protest but no noise would come out. Crowe and Sonitus shared an amused smile- Luche's mind only shut up when holding someone or being held. But. Both? At the same time?
Luche couldn't hold any train of thought anymore than he could hold a handful of air. The gentle expansion and contraction of Crowe's breathing in his arms, her head tucked in under his chin, hair tickling his throat. The soft whisper of Sonitus's lullaby in his ear, a solid arm, warm and heavy, draped over his waist. A soft spot to lay down and comrades keeping out the chill and damp. Muted rainfall outside…
Crowe whispered back and forth with the captain’s second, talking about nothing of importance. Sonitus grinned to himself, feeling the hardness of Luche's shoulders relax gradually. The blonde slowly melted into the curves of Crowe's body, curling around her and holding close. Sonitus snuggled in closer, mirroring, still singing, weaving his spell.
Crowe started nodding off first, drifting in and out of the conversation. Luche huffed in amusement, allowing himself to enjoy the moment for once. Sonitus almost rolled his eyes. The only way to get the mother hen of the kingsglaive to rest was if another glaive and/or glaives needed cuddles themselves. Luche eventually gave into the fog clouding his mind, following Crowe into dreams.
Sonitus chuckled silently, settling in himself. Nobody could resist the song.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Author: nextraordinaire
Rated: Mature
Pairings: Erik/Charles
Length: 10,927
Summary: Running from unicorns hadn’t been in the work description when Charles’d applied for the research position, but from reading all the reports about the ‘rather aggressive behavior’ they showed towards researchers in general, it shouldn’t have come as surprise.
Rec notes: Charles and Erik go searching for unicorns in the mountains. For scientific research. (Yes, really.) Of course, unicorns are violent to anyone who is considered ‘impure’ so they can’t get to close... right?
I love this treat of a fic. It’s got unicorns, cryptid science, and sexual tension. What more do you need?
