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bimobuddy · 9 months

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Safe at Last

TUA tickle fic

> Comfort Tickles <

Lee!Five - Ler!Klaus

Post Series

Might be a little ooc but it's fiiine

Summary: Five is finally being hit by everything, and what better way to help him out than to bring back something simple and familiar?

Five laid there on his bed (futon), just staring up at the ceiling. Processing. He had time traveled, gotten stuck in the post apocalyptic future for 43 years, leaving his family behind, killed people, came back as a child, barely survived three apocalyptic ends, so much more, and... it was finally catching up to him. He exhaled, long and slow.

Due to the deal Allison made with Reginald, they all were alive. Powerless, but alive. And Five was still in his child body, meaning no one believed him that he was 58, and he couldn't buy his own house yet, so he just bounced around from sibling to sibling, whoever would let him stay a few nights.

A few of his siblings had offered to let him just fully move in, and he had considered it, he really had, but he decided against it. He was an old man at heart and mind, he didn't want to feel like he was being taken care of -even if deep down he knew he probably needed it to some degree- so currently, he was staying with Klaus, in an apartment.

"Hey, Fivers.." Speak of the devil. Five didnt even move his head, he just flicked his eyes over to Klaus, who stood in the doorway. "Hm?"

"Hate to barge in like this, but I couldn't help but notice you looked so... sad?" Klaus sat on the futon next to his older-younger brother. Five snorted. "After everything we've been through, 'sad' is an understatement." Five said, looking back up at the ceiling.

Klaus nodded. "Yeah, that's... that's fair. That's really fair." Silence hung in the air for a moment, while Klaus looked down at Five. The poor kid guy looked exhausted, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. In a way, he had. Three times.

Klaus leaned back against the couch part of the futon, in thought. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hey, Five, if you'll trust me-" "I know I shouldn't, especially after you've said that, but go on." "-I think I know what may help."

Intrigued, Five propped himself up on his elbows. "I hope you don't mean dr-" "No, no, I'm clean now. But back when I was fighting in the war, there was something Dave used to do that would help me relax." Almost immediately, Five laid back down. "Klaus, I'm flattered and a little creeped out, but not interested." Klaus was tempted to bring up the fact that Five had actually made a joke, but he decided to do it later. "No, it wasn't anything like that, it was just a way to calm me down on real bad nights. If you'll trust me, I'd like to try it with you. You need it, buddy, trust me."

Five thought for a moment. "Fine. I doubt you could make it any wORSE-" As soon as the words left his lips, Klaus had pulled him into his lap. Five started to get up but Klaus gently held his shoulders. "No no, it's okay, this is part of it, you're fine! I'm not gonna mess with ya.. Well- Not much. Give me your hand." Five hesitantly laid back down and gave Klaus his hand.

Klaus started to very gently trace light circles against his palm. When Five snorted and closed his fist, pulling away, Klaus chuckled. "Oh right, I forgot your hands were bad. Let's try somewhere a little less sensitive." Before Five could question what he was doing, Klaus had pushed his shirt up to just under his ribs, starting to lightly trace and tap around his tummy.

Five felt his face and ears get red as he hid his face. He tried to blink away- right. No powers anymore. He decided to just keep his face covered as he giggled into his hands. "Fuck- Klahaus! Whyhy?" The Former-Seance just grinned. "It's hard to think about the bad things while you're getting tickled, isn't it?"

He was right. Five found it quite difficult to think about that while giggling, laying across his brother's lap. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Five was remembering a time when they were kids, this was a thing Klaus had done back then, too. He was always one to give cheer-up tickles to him and his siblings after a rough day. He felt a mix of comfort and nostalgia spread throughout his chest, coming out in the form of much lighter, more bubbly giggles. He hadn't even noticed.

Klaus grinned down at him. "Aw, look at you! You're actually giggling and staying in place, you haven't rolled away once!"

Oh, right.. His reputation.. He was supposed to not like this. Five raised an arm to cover his mouth as he turned his head away, but Klaus just upped the tickles and skittered up his ribs and toward his underarm. Five slammed his arm down as his giggles turned frantic. "Dohohon't!" "Don't what?" "Tihickl- I'M NAHAT THAT DUHUMB!" "Ah, I almost gotcha though."

Klaus fluttered his fingers around Five's ears and under his chin, which resulted in an adorable little snort, then found his way back to his tummy, getting bubbly giggles, then to his hips, which made Five buck and let out a real belly laugh. Yet he still hadn't really protested or tried to get away.

When Klaus squeezed his knee, Five shot up and grabbed his hand. "KLAHAUS!!" He paused to catch his breath, giggles still flooding out of his chest. Klaus smiled warmly. "Just gentle tickles? Calm?" Five just nodded and repeated, "Calm."

Five laid back down, covered his face, and giggled softly into the room, the way he used to before everything happened, back when he was still a somewhat normal 13 year old spending the night in his brother's room after a hard day. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #Lee!Five #Ler!Klaus #post series #comfort tickles

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robinante · 13 days

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Brennan Lee Mulligan: just made a dark, fucked up, gender swap au of The Bad Kids haha. Just a glimpse into my dark reality

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causeilikelix · 4 months

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new to the blog but abt those felix throughts 😍😍 felix whos so tired of the members calling him innocent and babying him. yea its nice from time to time but hes a grown man ! so he goes 100% hard dom on you just so your moans can be heard in the dorm 🫣 also he would totally cover you in bite marks and hickeys just so he can get his point across to his group 💕

now THAT's what I'm taking about skhsfdlkfjsdlkfj

Like we all know that Felix is a lil guy with too much love in his body but soft =/= sub. He's a man very comfortable in his identity and the power he holds over you. Felix just wants to make his baby feel good but he also wants to prove a point...

Smut and warnings below the cut. MINORS DNI!!!!!!

↳ Words - 2.7k (and some change)

↳Warnings: SMUT duh, Soft!Dom Felix (I'm still getting used to writing Hard!Dom anyone) and a tough of Hard!Dom Lix at the end, afab!reader, relatively vanilla, fingering (f receiving), P in V, unprotected sex (don't), multiple orgasms, exhibitionism?, hickeys

You loved his innocent vibe! You really did! His angelic smile and his sweet words and actions is what drew you to him in the first place. He was nothing but romantic and sweet all the time. The best communicator, respectful of your boundaries, always treated you like a princess. Honestly everyone needs their own personal Felix!!

But he’s tired. He can’t help it. All of his friends baby him so much! Like Changbin said himself, Felix is happiness personified! But enough is enough. His sweet exterior is giving him a reputation he doesn’t want. When his friends talk about their sex lives, they always make these jokes that Felix must be a little pillow prince who takes what he’s given and lets his partner take the lead. In fact, his friends bet, he’s as innocent as can be and maybe you and him don’t even have sex at all!

He’s still grumbly about it when you get to the dorm one night, just to spend a little time together in between schedules. He greets you with his normal warm hug and a sweet peck but you can sense something is off.

Initially you stay in the living room to continue watching the movie the other guys are watching. It’s some action film you couldn’t give two shits about. Your legs are swung over Felix’s lap and he’s gently massaging your calves and thighs while he stares at the screen. You can hear a few of the other guys snickering but you can’t make out what they’re saying. When you glance at Felix, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set. Honestly it’s kind of hot and makes heat pool between your legs. Let’s be honest though…. It’s Felix. Almost everything he does can get you wet.

The boys laugh again and you note that it’s during a not particularly funny part of the movie. This is where Felix breaks. He pushes your legs off him and grabs your hand.

“Come on, babe, this isn’t very interesting. Let’s go to my room.” Felix whispered to you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Your body immediately went hot and you had a feeling you knew what was on his mind. He dragged you to his room and tossed the door shut behind him.

His hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss before the latch had fully closed. You could simply melt into his kisses. They always were deep and full of every ounce of love in his body. Tonight, however, his lips were urgent and demanding.

“I need you baby, please.” He whispered against your mouth. The need to show his friends that he wasn’t a little boy anymore coursed through him, but he would stop if you gave the word.

“Lix, I need you too.” You managed out between kisses, “But what about the guys? They’re right outside and-”

“Remember what we talked about last month?” Felix kissed down your neck and pushed you back towards the bed.

How could you forget? Most of the time you and Felix had sex it was very mutual. You didn’t do a whole lot of powerplay. Maybe a sprinkling here and there when the situation was right, but Felix loved it when sex was a mutual expression of love. A few weeks ago he asked you about exploring power play a little more and maybe experimenting with some kinks. One of them was being listened to. Not necessarily the real thing, but pretending like someone could walk in on you at any moment.

With the boys right down the hall, that one held more risk than normal.

“You wanna try it?” You asked. The back of your knees caught on the edge of the bed and you sat down. Felix weaved his fingers through your hair and bent down to kiss you. You parted your knees instinctively and Felix settled between them.

With him above you like this, you felt small under him. The thrill it gave you made your heart speed up. You gripped his slim waist to pull him closer.

“I want them to hear you while I fuck you dumb,” Felix’s voice dropped and octave. It sent a shiver down your spine. You always loved it when he got like this. When he got too horny, his voice dropped and it made you wet in an instant.

Felix’s hands made quick work of your clothes. He wasted no time in getting you naked, leaving your top and jeans in a pile on the floor. Even though you hadn’t expected to have sex on this visit, you still wore one of your cuter underwear sets. Baby pink with a little bit of lace at the top of the cups of the bra and the top of the panties, made even more innocent by a tiny rose in the center of both pieces.

Felix swallowed thickly at the sight.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” Felix whispered. He maneuvered you onto the bed and hovered over you. You clawed at his shirt, urging him to take it off. He smirked and tugged it off. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay? Until then you're going to let me do whatever I want with you, right baby?”

“Yes, baby.” You nodded in understanding.

You groaned at the sight of his chiseled chest. Those gorgeous, defined ab muscles and his perfect little pink nipples made your mouth water. Everything about him was beautiful from his head to his toes. Not to mention his cock. Speaking of, you wanted to see it immediately. You tried to reach for his pants but he grabbed your wrists and shoved you back against the bed.

“No touching without permission, got it baby?” He cooed, “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you. I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you? It doesn’t take much to get my baby worked up.”

Felix slipped his hand into your underwear and seemed unfazed by the amount of slick in your panties. To be honest, you thought that there should have been more. The sudden show of power had your cunt gushing and clenching around nothing and you needed him inside you, um, yesterday.

“Felix, please!” You cried, pushing your hips up into his hand. His digits rubbed small, slow circles on your clit. Just enough to feel good but not enough to actually get anywhere.

“What do you want, baby? Good girls use their words.” Felix chided, his fingers slipping lower to tap against your entrance but not going in.

“I want you to touch me! Please!” You kept your voice quiet so that no one outside the door could hear you, but that wasn’t what Felix wanted.

“You want me to touch you? Alright, baby, I’m feeling nice today.” Felix kept his eyes on your face as he slipped two of his fingers into your tight hole with basically no resistance. He watched as your face screwed up in pleasure and your lips parted in a silent moan. “Come on you can do better than that.”

With that, Felix pumped his fingers into you. Quick thrusts wouldn’t get him where he wanted to go so he opted for long, deep strokes that pressed the pads of his fingers onto that special spot he’d found a few weeks ago. The ball of his hand pressed deliciously against your clit with every thrust. You swallowed a moan and turned your head to press your face into your arm to help silence yourself.

At this, Felix threw three quick thrusts of his fingers into you.

“Uh uh,” he chided, “I want to hear those beautiful noises of yours, baby. Let me know how good I’m making you feel, yeah?”

He pressed a few more deep and precise thrusts into you and this time you complied with a long, drawn out moan. Felix grinned. He continued like this for a few minutes, pressing his fingers in as deep as possible. He resorted to pressing his hand against your clit and his fingers massaging that spot within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re drenching my fingers already. I can’t wait until you cream my cock, baby. Keep moaning, just like that.”

He has you clenching and cumming on his fingers in seconds. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets your thighs shaking. You’re moaning so loudly that you’re certain that the others can hear you. Felix smiles through the whole thing. His eyes are dark as he watches you cum just from his fingers.

“Good girl, there it is. Let’s see if you can take my cock, yeah?”

“Please.” You moan loudly.

Felix pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss. He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in the room. Next he strips from the rest of his clothes and his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum pearled at his tip and your mouth watered. You longed to take him in your mouth and suck him until he came but he had other plans.

“Hands and knees. Now.” Felix demands. He pumps his cock a few times to make sure he’s hard enough. How could he not be, though, as he watches you climb onto your hands and knees and present your ass and your glistening hole to him. He leans over you and brushes his cock along your swollen folds. “Good girl. God, you have the most perfect ass…” Felix palmed it appreciatively before pulling his hand back and landing a firm slap on the flesh.

“Fellix!” you gasped when he landed a second slap.

“That’s right, baby, remember who’s name you’re screaming when I make you cum.” Felix’s deep voice rumbles.

He lined up his tip at your entrance and rubbed it through your folds a few times, reveling in the way he could make you shiver every time his cock grazed your over-sensitive clit. When you least expected it, Felix pushed his cock into your tight, warm cunt. You both moaned out in unison when he bottomed out. His long, thick cock filled you up perfectly. It was as if your pussy was designed for him. Felix swore that he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, darling?”

With that, he began thrusting. Sometimes adjusting to someone’s cock in you is a thing of myth. You can never get used to how perfectly he fills you up. It may not be the longest, but it’s thick and it stretches you more than anything or anyone else ever has. His cock has a perfect little curve to it that hits that little spot inside you whenever he angles his hips just right.

Tonight, he’s determined to get all of the sounds out of you that he can. So every single thrust is designed to do just that. He shoves himself into your snug heat as deep as he can go every single time. It’s like you can feel him in your throat. Every thrust pushes his hips flush with your ass. He takes a hand and presses on your back to push your chest onto the bed.

“Fuuuuuck baby, you feel so good.” Felix moaned, “Always so warm and tight for me, baby.”

“You feel so good inside of me,” You moan back, struggling to get your words out between Felix’s rough thrusts, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Come on, moan for me baby, show them how good I make you feel.”

As if you had a choice. His thrusts were hard and he shifted his hips until his tip speared into that spot over and over again. Felix had found that spot by chance a few weeks ago when he was fingering you and now he made it a point to seek it out every time.

Felix’s hand curled around your bodies and his fingers made contact with your clit immediately. At this, you keened and let out the loudest moan of the night. Your cunt clamped onto Felix’s cock and he bit his lip to keep from cumming right there. Your tight, wet heat eas driving him crazy but you had to cum first.

He could have sworn that the TV volume lowered.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” Felix grunted, his finger swirling around your swollen clit.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around him. Something in your belly pulled taut and you rocked yourself back on Felix’s cock. The extra bit of friction made the coil pull tight. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to let your body relax so that Felix could take over and bring you to orgasm. Your moans grew louder and louder as you got closer.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cried, “Fuck, Felix! Right there!”

“That’s a good girl, cream my cock, baby.”

The sound of the TV in the front room had stopped all together.

The extra pressure of you pushing back onto his cock was just the right thing. The intense pressure in your stomach suddenly released all at once. Your legs trembled and your body shook. Felix took over and gripped your hips tightly. He slowly guided your hips down towards the bed so you were laying flat, continuing his intense thrusts into your cunt. He leaned over you and pressed his lips to the back of your neck.

“Felix, don’t stop,” you moaned, arching your back into him to keep his dick lodged inside you as deep as possible.

Your orgasm washed over you in waves, each one resulting in a gush of wetness between your legs. His hips kept drilling into you diligently. He kissed along your shoulders and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin. The second you rolled over, he’d give you hickeys on your neck and breasts to match these.

When he sensed your orgasm coming to an end, he slowed his hips but kept his cock lodged within your tight walls. He hadn’t come yet but he knew he had to give you a short break before he sought his own orgasm.

“Was I loud enough?” You giggled, “What was that about?”

“The guys were making fun of me, saying things like… I couldn’t be a dom because I’m too innocent, that I’m just a pillow prince and I let you do all the work.” Felix peppered soft kisses on your skin.

“That’s not it at all baby! We just like sex to be reciprocal, that’s all.”

“I know, but I guess I needed a little ego boost.” Felix shrugged.

“Well if I get to come like that every time we need an ego boost, by all means,” You giggled, rubbing your ass back into him and making his cock slide against your puffy walls, making you both gasp. “I think you could stand to be a little meaner, though.”

“What? You want me to be mean to you?” Felix stared at you with large eyes.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Oh, so you want me to call you my own little personal slut?” Felix whispered in your ear. That tantalizing voice of his made your cunt clench on him. “Oh so you would like that? I should have known you’d be a little cock-hungry slut. Can’t go a single day without my cock in you, is that it?”

“Mmhm…” You nodded, eyes suddenly a little teary but in the best way. You pushed your hips back against his again. He groaned and pressed a hand to your hip to stop your movements.

“If you keep going like that I’m gonna treat you like a little cocksleeve, got it? I’ll stuff you with enough cum to keep you full for weeks. You want that, baby?”

“God, yes,” your eyes rolled back at the thought of feeling even fuller than you were now.

“Then relax, my pretty slut, we’re just getting started.” Felix growled.

His hand slipped under you to press lightly against your tummy, the pressure pushing your g-spot effortlessly against the tip of his cock. He’d hardly have to aim at all like this. You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up ‘til your cute little cunt can’t handle it anymore. M’ cum is all yours.”

#felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee yongbok smut #felix lee smut #ellie writes #PHEW #an ask!#i got carried away with this one #meant to be like 10 paragraphs but its now liek five pages #i don;t have time for the other asks tonight but #i am getting to them #fuck felix is so hot #thank you so much for the ask

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killerunicorn3 · 5 months

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When Tula told the story of her death all I could think about was the bear. She was so sad that the bear died alone because she did as well. Somehow those she loved gave her what she needed to come back. Tula was so sad that the bear’s loved ones couldn’t do that for them.

#burrow's end #burrow’s end spoilers #spoliers #dimension 20 #dimension twenty #dimension 20 spoilers #tula burrows end #brennan lee mulligan #tula #burrow’s end episode 8: five #dropout

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18catsreading · 5 months

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Tula: oh no. When you asked me "where were you," were you saying that to yourself?

Ava: well, I. I supposed. [Breaking down] no, that's too much! That's too far! No I can't examine that yet.

Tula: that's okay

Viola: cool bone mama.

Ava: [speaking into the dog's mouth, functioning as a megaphone] well I -- maybe. I perhaps felt like I could have done something more. Or I should have done something when your father passed. Maybe if I'd been stronger or faster, or you know, then maybe he would have -- you know. Had to leave you two. But you know. I'm going to take this all very slowly. And I love you two.

Tula: you did everything you could. It's not your fault. And I love you. And it's unlucky that we lost dad and it's lucky that we have you. That's just how the world goes.

Ava: well I don't like thinking about luck, because if things happen by chance then that means I have no control over what I -- what happens to you two or your kids.

Tula: it's really scary

Erika: Suddenly Ava feels very small, and very old, and very dry.

#aabria iyengar #dimension 20 #burrow's end #ep 8 five #brennan lee mulligan #siobhan thompson #rashawn scott #jasper william cartwright #erika ishii #isabella roland #well well well if it ain't just my whole pathology in a sentence

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raguonmynieceandnephew · 17 days

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I am really dreading the day we will learn the backstories of the Rat Grinders/Hi Five Heroes because it is guaranteed to be heartbreaking and I do NOT want to empathize with those cunts

#kipperlilly copperkettle #mary ann skuttle #oisin hakinvar #ivy #dimension 20 #brennan lee mulligan #fantasy high junior year #dimension 20 fantasy high #fantasy high #dimension20 #d20 #fig faeth #buddy dawn #rat grinders #hi five heroes

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mediumgayitalian · 18 days

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part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ��Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”