#This was prompted by me watching a documentary about cephalopods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

candied-peach · 4 years

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ao3: “soft in the quiet” rating: T warnings: autistic remus, sensory overload, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, intruloceit genre: fluff description: Remus gets easily overloaded. His boyfriends are here to help. (for anon prompt: "Can I request some intruloceit with Autistic!Remus having sensory overload?")

Too much, too much, too much-

Remus's hands slam over his ears, his eyes squeezed shut, as if his eyelids can block out the bright lights of Thomas's apartment. He knows rationally they aren't that bright, but they feel like ice picks, needling through his eye sockets and into his brain. The low murmur of voices around him roar like a crescendo, crashing against the shores of his ear canals like the crack of a thunderstorm.

"...mus? Remus? Can you hear me?"

A whimper breaks free, Remus rocking back and forth on his heels as hard and fast as he can. He manages to crack one eye open, coming face to face with Deceit, mismatched eyes warm and full of concern.

"Overload?" Deceit asks, finger spelling it slowly, so Remus can keep up. Remus nods so hard, he feels like his head is about to come off at the seams.

"Thomas, we'll be back as soon as we can," Logan says, out of Remus's field of vision. A gentle hand on each elbow and Remus is guided down, sinking out of Thomas's living room and into Logan's room, the bedroom they've discovered tends to be the best for Remus when he's like this.

The lights are turned down low, so low he has to squint, and he sighs in wordless relief, letting both eyes fully open and embrace the soft wash of blue-tinted light. Logan tilts his head to one side in inquiry and Remus makes grabby hands for the noise-canceling headphones on Logan's desk. Deceit settles them gently over Remus's ears and finally- finally- he feels like he can breathe again.

"Sorry," he mumbles, barely able to hear his own voice. His boyfriends don't speak, but he can read their body language just as well, if not better. It's all right. We understand. We love you.

Deceit guides him with the barest of touches to the bed, inviting him to his usual blanket nest. Remus settles in the middle, pulling his weighted blanket over his body and burrowing under its warmth. He beckons toward Deceit and Logan, encouraging them to join him. They do either side, just close enough to touch.

He looks up, losing himself in the constellations that spiral and wheel across Logan's ceiling. He falls asleep at some point, crumpled under his blankets, bookended by his boyfriends. When he wakes up, his headphones are askew and he can feel drool drying on his chin.

"Thank you," he says, tugging the headphones off and resting them on his chest. His face is on fire. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Cephy, it's not your fault that you had sensory overload," Logan says gently. His eyes seem to echo the stars above. "You don't need to apologize for needing to leave, and Dee and I are always more than happy to help you."

"Logan is right," Dee murmurs. Deceit combs his ungloved fingers through Remus's hair, making him melt into the touch. "And the others will understand, too. They know you get overwhelmed sometimes."

Remus relaxes back into the bed, reassured.

"We- we don't have to go back yet, do we?" He asks. Logan shakes his head.

"Not if you don't want to," Logan assures him. "This is all at your pace, cephy. All right?"

"Okay," Remus says, subsiding. He idly taps his fingers on his headphones. "Can we- can we watch a documentary? On cephalopods?" His voice is painfully full of hope.

"Of course we can," Logan says, pressing a tiny kiss to Remus's forehead. "I'll find one that we haven't watched yet. How does that sound?" Remus beams.

"Perfect," he says.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @littlestliu @iamthenewqueenofgames

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waywardfangirl · 3 years

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I was incredibly fortunate to get to write for the wonderful @fight-surrender in the Carry On Secret Snowflake exchange, and she gave some of the best prompts I've seen. I ended up choosing to write a meet-cute (a meet-ugly, really) that takes place on the beach and centers around Simon's new fixation on the supposed dangers lurking below the waves.

I have to give a giant thank you to @foolofabookwyrm and @caitybuglove23 for being excellent betas, cheerleaders, and for helping me get the fic formatted and posted when my computer stopped working - you guys are the best! 💜💜💜

You can read the fic below, or on AO3!

Simon

I've always wanted to go to the beach. Growing up in care, I never had the opportunity to, but now that Penny and I are done with university and enjoying weekends without the threat of homework hanging over our heads, I finally can. Of course, we don't live close to the beach, so our day trip took some planning, but it gave me time to look up all the best places to eat, and it gave Penny time to watch every possible documentary about the ocean. I watched a lot of them with her, and while I know I probably won't see all of the tropical fish that swam across our TV screen, I'm still really excited to see the ocean.

Unfortunately, I also happened to be in the room while Penny watched some show called “Predators from the Deep”, or something along those lines, so my excitement is also tinged with trepidation (or outright fear) of some of the things lurking under the waves.

“Sharks aren’t anything to worry about, Simon! They don’t want to attack you, and the likelihood of even seeing a shark here is extremely low.”

“It’s not the sharks I’m worried about, Pen! It’s all of the other stuff, all those little parasites, and the poisonous things, and the spiny ones.” The documentary was filled with shadowy shots of spiked balls and spotted tentacles just waiting to attack some unsuspecting wader.

“Don’t eat any of it then,” she replies, hardly even paying attention to me as she smooths out her blanket and sets up the umbrella.

“What?”

“You said you were worried about the poisonous things, so just don’t eat anything you find in the ocean.”

“They can hurt me even if I don’t eat them! What about that one octopus?”

“That was venomous, not poisonous, there’s a difference.” She squirts sunscreen into her palms and then slaps them lightly onto my cheeks, not allowing me time to squirm away.

“Whatever, venomous then, there are still things to be scared of in there!”

Penny ducks under the arm I have flung out to point at the ocean with, and grabs two waters from our cooler.

“You’ll be fine Simon, I promise.” She shoves a bottle into my hands. “Rub in your sun cream, and let’s walk by the edge of the water, alright? You’ll like it, we can find shells!” She starts off, picking her way through the sand and looking back only once to make sure that I’m following her.

It turns out that the water feels quite nice, even soothing. The sounds of the waves and the feel of cool water splashing my ankles combine to make me feel safe. They make me forget about the horrors lurking off-shore.

Penny has a handful of shells and has started handing me others to put in the pocket of my swim shorts. I’ve found a few shells of my own too, but I stopped paying such close attention to the ground about ten minutes ago, when I noticed a man about our own age playing in the waves with his younger siblings.

He has dark hair, originally falling around his face but now wet with seawater and slicked back to emphasize his widow’s peak. He’s still too far away for me to tell what color his eyes are, but as Penny and I walk closer I’m able to make out more of his facial expressions. He seems to be putting on sneers for show and occasionally gives bright smiles for the younger kids swarming him. He’s wearing one of those long-sleeved swim shirts, but it’s clinging tight to his body. He looks like he could be a footballer with all of the muscles I can see, even at this distance.

I’ve been trying not to stare too openly at him, but I can’t really help it - there’s just something about him that keeps drawing me in.It’s almost as if I’m under some sort of spell or thrall. Right now though, I’m extremely glad I’ve been so captivated by him, because I seem to be the only person on the beach who realizes the danger we’re all in.

Curling around the man’s left ankle are the tentacles of an octopus, surely about to stick its fangs into him and inject him with its venom (or whatever it is octopuses do to kill people).

"Octopus!" I yell. I’m at a loss for any other words, but I’m desperately trying to warn Penny as I sprint off to rescue him.

"Ooh, where?" She doesn't sound nearly concerned enough for the looming threat of death hanging over us all, but I'll talk to her about taking proper safety precautions later. Right now, I have to go save the life of the prettiest person I've ever seen.

"Octopus! Octopus!" I can't seem to make any other phrases come out of my mouth, but eventually the man looks up to see me barreling towards him, flailing my arms and yelling at the top of my lungs. He raises an eyebrow at me, staying far too calm considering the mortal peril he's in, and glances behind him to see who else I could possibly be talking to.

Unfortunately, that means he's not paying attention enough to sidestep me when the combination of my momentum and adrenalin send me toppling into him. We both splash down into the small waves lapping at the sand and I scramble to extricate myself from his long limbs as quickly as possible, crawling down to examine his ankles and prepared to risk my own life if I have to pull the octopus off of him.

"What are you doing? " His voice is lovely and posh, the vowels round and smooth and expensive.

"Saving your life, mate, you're welcome by the way," I grunt as I make another unsuccessful grab for the tentacles.

"From what? All you've done so far is endanger me, pushing me down and holding me in the water." He pauses. "If this is your attempt at murder by drowning, I think I pity you. First, you caused a scene by yelling the whole way down the beach before you assaulted me, and now you're not even bothering to hold my head under this truly pathetic amount of water. You're an absolute disaster."

"I told you—" (why are these tentacles so hard to grab,) "I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to save you."

"Save me from what, exactly?"

Ha! I've got you now, evil cephalopod!

"This!"

I hold the octopus up in triumph, feeling the water drip onto my sodden hair.

"From… a clump of seaweed?"

"What? No. No, it's an octopus."

Slowly, I lower the mass in my hand down to eye level, and immediately I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, then."

I try to push back from him and stand up, but my hand won't release the seaweed (it really did look like an octopus!). When I try to move a wave hits me, washing the sand out from under my foot and making me flounder for a few moments, only compounding my embarrassment. When I finally look up at the man I accidentally assaulted, he seems entirely unbothered by anything. He's lounging back on his elbows, somehow managing to look down his nose at me even though I'm sitting up fully now, and it's simply unfair how defined his abs are, even under his shirt.

"Do you make a habit of doing things like this?"

His eyes are too intense for me to look at any longer, they're a grey color that seems to be shifting to reflect the ocean behind me, and I have to busy myself with peeling the green fronds of seaweed away from my fingers.

"Like what?"

"Attacking strangers or playing the hero, take your pick."

"Sorry. I thought it was an octopus and I didn't want you to die," I mumble. This prick should be grateful, where does he get off being so smug anyway?

"Why on earth would I have died from an octopus touching me?"

"Because they're one of the most deadly creatures on earth!"

"What? No they're not. Not the ones around here, anyway. The blue ringed octopus is incredibly deadly, but it lives in the Pacific Ocean."

"But, couldn't they-"

He levels me with a look that could probably set me on fire.

"Mordelia!" One of the children comes running over from where they fled when I tackled their brother. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen, and while she isn't quite as dark and villainous looking as her brother she still has his same air of superiority. "Does this gentleman need to be worried about being attacked, maimed, or killed by any octopuses while swimming today?"

This kid - Mordelia, I guess - levels me with the most condescending look I have ever seen, and just scoffs . Actually scoffs at me, like I'm an imbecile. (Although, I still have seaweed stuck to me, so she may be onto something there.)

"No. Most accounts of cephalopod attacks can't be proven, and the few that have been entirely substantiated occurred in vastly different habitats or under circumstances that this beach couldn't support."

With that, she turns and runs back to the rest of her family, leaving me with only a parting eye roll.

"She's going through a marine biology phase."

It's the first thing the dark haired man has said to me in a casual manner, and I startle a bit.

"Did you also have a marine biology phase?"

I think my question catches him off-guard, and I smirk.

"Perhaps," he answers after a beat. "But Mordelia's has been going on for three years now, so we think it may actually stick. Mine dried up after only a few months."

He smiles at me for the first time since I knocked him over, and it's almost painful how handsome he is, sprawled out elegantly on the beach like he's in an ad for expensive watches or cologne or something, and I can't believe I tackled him because of some stupid seaweed.

"I had a dinosaur phase," I confess, smiling back at him.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I reach down to help him up, and I'm shocked at how cold his fingers are, and how much I want to warm them up in my own. It's too bad I made such a horrible first impression, I would otherwise be sorely tempted to ask him out on a date. "What's your name, by the way? You've already attacked me, had we been in cars we would have exchanged names and proofs of insurance by now."

I’m such a mess. I didn't even think to ask what his name was.

"Simon. I'm Simon."

I go to shake his hand, and then realize that we're still holding hands, and I feel my cheeks grow redder still.

"Hello Simon, I'm Baz. It's nice to meet you, although the next time we meet I sincerely hope you can refrain from throwing yourself quite so bodily at me before we've even said hello."

"Yeah, umm, I'm sorry, really, I-" My brain catches up with my mouth. "Wait, did you say next time? "

His mouth curls up into a grin, and he gives my hand a squeeze as I try to figure out how I messed up so badly and things still worked out so well.

"Of course. For our first date, perhaps we can go to the aquarium and you can see what an octopus really looks like."

#my fic #snowbaz #Down By The Sea #Secret Snowflake 2020 #fluff and silliness 😊

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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years

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Imagine that Bucky gets flung across universes after a magical accident of some kind (exact details up to you) and winds up in a world where he and Tony are mer people (species your choice, but I am partial to octobucky). Anyway, MCU Bucky 'lands' in this world over the open ocean and this is bad because he has a metal arm dragging him down anytime he tries to swim. But Mer Tony and Mer Bucky save him, and keep him alive until MCU Tony can haul him home.

Instant Capture

A/N: also for @the-flightoficarus for her 3 word prompt Bucky, Picture, Italy that got me out of a rut, and the winteriron discord server (18+ only) for their encouragement and sprinting with me -- Tisfan

“Back up, just a little,” the man said, holding up the oldfashioned camera. A Kodak relic from the 70s, the device was one of those withthe card of disposable flash bulbs that popped and sparked and were good forone roll of film. Bucky could smell the chemicals as the flash went off; hegrinned wide for the camera.

Tony wasn’t with him; Pepper had called earlier, despite promisingnot to bother them on their vacation, and Tony had kissed Bucky’s cheekapologetically and sent Bucky out to get them breakfast from one of the nearbycafes.

The old man with his camera had implored Bucky -- an Americantourist, even if he’d been to Italy more than a dozen times in the last fewdecades, practically lived there for most of 1952, honestly -- to let him takea photo to remember everything by.

Bucky thought Tony might get a kick out of the ancient camera,might like a photo of their vacation to remember things by. Also, Tony’d givenBucky way more money than they needed to pay for breakfast -- nothing new --and Bucky tended to give the change out to panhandlers and streetentertainment.

“Say addio,” the man said, and while Bucky’s eyebrowwent up -- say goodbye? What? -- he did as he was told. The flash went off. Theman laughed, delighted. Malicious. “Goodbye, Soldat.”

Everything went white.

(more under the cut)

When Bucky didn’t come back, with breakfast, Tony wasn’t entirelyworried. He and Pepper had been video conferencing since ridiculously earlyabout the breakthrough that Wallace had in R&D and the implicationsthereof. It was exciting for him, for SI, but it scarcely fascinating forsomeone outside the company.

But Tony was hungry, and he hadn’t had caffeine, and when hechecked the clock, Bucky had been gone for over four hours, and that wasn’tright. Bucky wasn’t like Tony, not apt to wander off, distracted by the nextshiny object. If nothing else, he’d have texted (Tony checked, he hadn’t) or atleast come back with Tony’s breakfast.

Tony didn’t like feeling like he was taking his boyfriend forgranted -- and he really, really tried not to, but sometimes he still gotdistracted -- but Bucky was still struggling with his Hydra training. The manchecked in. Always.

The fact that he hadn’t sent a wriggle of dismay threading its waythrough Tony’s gut. He snatched up his gauntlet-watch and strapped it on.

“Hey boss,” Friday said in his ear as soon as the wirelessconnection did its handshake.

“Fri, where’s Bucky?”

Stalker 101 or not, Tony was already headed for the door whenFriday reported back.

“Boss, I’m not picking up any signs of him. His phone’s notonline, and there are no energy signatures emanating from the prosthetic.

“Check street cams, footage, back it up, he went out forbreakfast--”

Tony pushed through the door and a manilla envelope fluttered tothe hall of their hotel and lay there on the floor, his name scrawled in blackmarker across the front.

Tony scowled. “Scan it.”

“Not detecting any harmful chemicals, boss,” Friday said, andthrough Tony’s sunglasses, she projected an xray of the contents, a singlesheet of paper and a photograph. Primitive.

“Alert the Avengers,” Tony snapped, scooping up what was,undoubtedly, some sort of ransom demand. “We’ve got an Amber Alert.”

Funny calling the Amber Alert on someone else -- usually Tony wasthe one damselled. Funny, suspicious, not funny ha-ha.

What he wanted to know waswho the hell had their hands on his boyfriend.

There were hands on him. Bucky struggled and something ropy andthick coiled around his wrist, pulling his arm back, keeping him from lashingout. It was enormously strong. Another coil wrapped around his waist, a thirdover his mouth and nose. He couldn’t breathe.

Panic took over and he thrashed. It was wet. He was… wet.Underwater? He forced his eyes open, they stung. Salt water?

A hand touched his face, cold, but gentle. He could barely see,eyes slitted almost shut. He couldn’t breathe. Blue eyes, glowing and kind andweirdly familiar, met his gaze.

“Mmmmph!”

The face was as familiar as his own. Tony, and yet… not. This Tonyhad blue eyes that glowed like the arc-reactor. The light didn’t show much morethan not-Tony’s face. He smiled, revealing disturbingly sharp teeth. Slits inhis throat moved with each breath, showing pale pink flesh underneath. He movedcloser and the thing covering Bucky’s mouth slid aside.

The Not-Tony wrapped cold arms around Bucky’s neck, pulled himselfin, turned his head and slotted their mouths together.

Bucky would never have allowed it, but he was dizzy with lack ofair, he was confused, cold, scared. The Not-Tony kissed him, and pushed…breathing into Bucky’s mouth. Air.

Oh, sweet christ, air. Bucky gulped at it, and the Not-Tonykept opening and closing those slits at his throat. Gills, Bucky suddenlyrealized, and he almost spit out the Not-Tony’s precious gift in his shock andpanic.

Able to breathe, even if it tasted cold and somewhat of fish, andBucky’s tongue cringed away from the sharp teeth, his head cleared a little. Herealized the thing holding him was a cephalopod of some sort -- squid oroctopus, and not attached to the Not-Tony, who had a brilliant red fish tail.

Mermaid?

How the fuck did any of this make sense? Normal people, when theygot robbed while on vacation, lost some money and their passports; they didn’tget flung into some alternate dimension.

Bucky pulled his mouth free, tried to demand answers, got as faras “who--” in a rush of bubbles. The Tony-mer gave him an elaborate eyeroll anda condescending smirk that was so familiar that Bucky missed his Tony with aprofound ache. The Tony-mer held one hand to his ear and then shook his head. Ican’t hear you. I don’t understand.

Bucky struggled to orient himself. The water around them was dark,heavy. He pointed up -- or at least, he thought it was up. For all he knew,they could be upside down. Gravity didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, thisfar down. However far it was. Wherever the hell he was.

The Tony-mer leaned in and shared his air again.

Mimicked Bucky’s gesture, up. Pointed to his own throat, thenshook his head again. I can’t go up.

Well, this was a fancy pickle. How long until Tony-mer got boredwith this?

Bucky twisted, trying to see the other creature and almostpanicked again.

The monster holding him… was himself.

Only not. The Bucky holding him was some sort of alien, half-man,half-squid. Tentacles, Bucky thought, wildly. Poor Tony’s missing this.He knew it was a squid, two of the long limbs hanging below theBucky-creature’s waist ended in flat, rounded spades, and there were… Buckytried to count, but it looked like Bucky-creature had met with an accident,himself. One of the creature’s arms was missing from the shoulder down, endingin a scarred stump, and two of the ropey arms were quite a bit shorter thantheir fellows.

No Hydra to give him a prosthetic, Bucky thought.

Tony-mer kissed him again, shared air. Despite his solicitous, theentire operation was tedious. How long before even Tony-mer got tired of this?Bucky couldn’t stay down here. The mers couldn’t go up. Two of theBucky-creature’s arms slid around Bucky and the Tony-mer, squeezing and lockingthem together, which was a lot less sexy than when he and Tony had fantasizedabout tentacle porn.

The rest of the Bucky-squids limbs drew in, then pushed off with apowerful stroke, sending them speeding through the water. Bucky tried to relax;they didn’t mean him harm. It would have been easy to just… let him drown. TheTony-mer petted his cheek a few times, one hand behind Bucky’s neck to keeptheir mouths together.

It’s not cheatin’ if I’m kissin’ you, doll, Bucky thought, and wondered if he’d ever see his Tony again.

“This is some next-level Hogwarts shit right here,” Tony said. Hetossed the photograph down on the table, where it shifted and moved like abadly filmed movie. One of those old nature documentaries from the 70s.

Steve picked it up, gingerly. There was no sound, just the movingcreatures in it, what appeared to be a mermaid and a gruesome squid-man hybrid.It was hard to see details, there wasn’t a lot of light wherever they were.

Tony might have dismissed the entire thing, except when themermaid moved, Tony got a glimpse of Bucky’s face, lit strangely from someblueish bioluminescence. Whatever this was, Bucky was in danger. He was wrappedup by the squid-thing, and, what little Tony could detect, the mer-creature waseither kissing him, or biting him.

When Tony could see Bucky’s face, he didn’t look in pain, althoughhe was, justifiably, terrified.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Someone left it outside my hotel,” Tony said. He gripped thetable with both hands, barely able to keep from screaming with rage,frustration, fear.

“He’s not drowning,” Steve pointed out, even as his own voiceshook. Steve had powerful feelings about drowning that might have even beatenout Tony’s own trauma.

“But where is he?”

“May I?” Wanda was always very, very careful whenever she spokewith Tony. They’d come to some sort of peace, but issues of consent were stilla touchy area.

Tony jerked his chin up and down, not even able to talk.

She twisted her fingers over the picture, red smoke and glitterfalling from her fingertips as she worked her magic.

Magic, Tony sneered mentally,then stopped himself. If Wanda could find out anything, any way to bring Buckyback, he’d give the whole magicphobia a rest. Probably.

Maybe.

“Oh,” she said. “Um… the man who did this had a personal grudgeagainst the Winter Soldier. This film is absolutely saturated by his hatred andglee. His… father? A defecting… oh. A sorcerer. Like Strange, but not asstrong. He passed down… artifacts, to his son. The Winter Soldier killed theman. But the boy grew up and learned to use them.”

“So?” Steve said, and Tony was grateful, because he didn’t knowhow to ask. “What do we do?”

“We get the artifact,” Wanda said. “Something like this? We shouldbe able to just reverse it, once we have the… it’s probably a camera.”

Bucky didn’t know where they were taking him, but he wasexhausted. He couldn’t rest, couldn’t think. There was Tony-mer’s mouth on him,the cold water around them. The movement of the Bucky-monster.

Another thing was moving in the water, a glitter of reddish skinand a swish of water.

Wanda’s face appeared in the darkness. Her dark hair surroundedher like a stormcloud, and she moved her hands, forming streams of red waterand bubbles, and then she reached for him and touched his throat.

The Tony-mer backed off and made an encouraging gesture. Goahead.

Bucky didn’t know what they wanted of him.

The Wanda-creature was… a starfish? Her thick legs hung below herwaist like a skirt. She was naked from the waist up, they all were, but ithadn’t occurred to Bucky that it was an issue, until he was presented withWanda’s full breasts. He blushed, or would have, if his blood had been warmer,but he was so cold, and he couldn’t breathe and the Tony-mer wasn’t moving toshare his air, and Bucky…

...gasped.

There was a splitting agony in his throat, and then water flowedinto his mouth, but it was sweet, not bitter with salt, not cold, butcool.

“There you are,” Tony-mer said, and Bucky understood him. “That’sbetter, right?

“Where’d you get this?” the Bucky creature demanded, wrapping onelimb around the metal wrist.

“My…” Bucky marvelled. His voice didn’t exactly come from histhroat, it was as if just thinking about the words put them out there. “My Tonymade it for me.” He didn’t bother to mention that it was after his Tony hadripped the old one off him, either, or that the original one had come from anenemy the likes of which he couldn’t possibly explain. No need to share thattrauma with his doppleganger.

“Get on that, fishtail,” Bucky-creature said to the Tony-mer.“Tired of bein’ lopsided.”

Tony-mer made a gesture that Bucky both did not understand, andintimately understood at the same time; whatever the sea creature equivalent offuck you was, a pinch of thumb and two fingers and then violently spreadingthem.

“What happened to… you?” Bucky asked.

Tony-mer looked sober, almost sad. “I might have led him under arockslide. We had to cut the limbs off, to get him free.”

“We’ve been over this, seashell,”the Bucky-creature said. “I forgive you. An’ I deserved it.” He gave Bucky aconspiratorial glance. “Mighta been tryin’ to eat him, but can you blame me?”

“My Tony’s pretty tasty, too,” Bucky said, grinning back athimself, which was sooo weird.

“Obviously, you don’t belong here,” Wanda-star said, breakingthings up with a swish of one hand and two of her arms. “How do we get you backwhere you’re supposed to be?”

“I don’t even know where here is,” Bucky protested. “I wasgettin’ my picture taken, and then I was here.”

“I don’t understand this word. What’s… picture? And how doessomeone take it from you?”

“He’s teaching art class to fish,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow.“Tell me you got something.”

“What? Lemme see that,” Steve said, grabbing for the picture. Sureenough, there was Bucky, using one rock to scrape patterns on the wall on anundersea cavern. Drawing stick figures. He was bad at it, Steve had always beenthe artist of the two of them.

The mer-people had taken him to some sort of cavern, they’dobviously adopted him as some sort of mascot, which wasn’t unusual, Tonysupposed. If a Bucky-doppleganger had shown up unexpectedly around a group ofAvengers, they’d have some sort of centaur-Bucky and making do until they couldfigure out how to get him home, so it was only fair.

Wanda, Strange, Clint, even Scott, had joined in the search forthe wizard with the camera. Tony was on standby, in case they needed thefirepower, but he was too distracted to be away from the photograph for long,so for the last week or so, he’d been watching Bucky get better, down where itwas wetter.

Bucky-squid was almost always with him, a tentacle or arm wrappedaround one of Bucky’s legs, so he didn’t float or drift away. Their version ofWanda had made it so Bucky could breathe.

What they were having problems with, and Tony was gettingdesperately worried about it, was that Bucky couldn’t seem to eat much of theirfood, and salt water wasn’t hydrating him. He was getting weaker, every day.Super soldiers needed a hell of a lot of calories.

“We got it,” Wanda reported. “Clint and Sam are taking turnsintimidating our wizard, so we can reverse the spell, but hopefully they’ll gethim to tell us, soon. Stephen is looking it over, as well. He might be able toreverse engineer it.”

“I refuse to allow the word engineer to be in the samesentence as magicking anything,” Tony said. He was still watching Bucky,who was leaning heavily on his counterpart as he silently explained things tothe various sea-life surrounding him.

“All right,” Strange said, at that moment, striding into the room,his cloak sweeping along behind him. “I believe I have got it.”

“Have you?”

“He exists inside the picture, in their world,” Strange explained,and then Tony lost him because Strange started using words like aethericaltranslocation, and positively charged chakra and Tony was certain those wordsmeant something to Strange, and maybe to Wanda, but they didn’t mean anythingto Tony, and what’s more, he seldom wanted them to.

“Twelve centers of focus?” Wanda burst out, “are you insane?”

“Do you want the ocean to come flooding in? If so, carry onwinging it. I like a little stability in my transdimensional portals, thankyou.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

“Look, there’s no reason why a Tyrean pattern won’t work,” Wandasaid. “They’re far more stable than you’re giving them credit for.”

“Perhaps, but if we do twelve, then I know at least my six areworking,” Strange retorted.

Wanda huffed. “I can hold up my end, old man, if you can hold upyours.”

“I’m thirty seven,” Strange pointed out.

“What?”

“Thirty seven. That’s hardly old.”

“Did you just… make a joke?” Tony burst in. “You make jokes? Whydid I not know that? Enough, enough, can you do it?”

“Of course,” Strange said. He held out one hand to Wanda. “Anchoryour essence, if you please.”

“Just because you had to do things the hard way,” Wanda said, butshe threw one hand gesture behind her, sending a shimmer of red energy thatgrabbed onto the ground like one of Peter’s sticky-webs.

“Together, on three,” Strange said. “One…”

“Two.”

“Three.” Tony crossed his fingers, hating himself for doing it anddoing it anyway. Tony didn’t believe in luck.

Of course, on his better days, Tony didn’t much believe in magiceither, and look how that was working out for him.

He stared down at the enchanted photograph while Strange and Wandafocused on the magic camera (Tony hated every word in that sentence.)

In the photograph, Bucky’s head jerked up, he turned and for thefirst time, Tony thought maybe he was, somehow, aware of the photograph. Helooked right at Tony. His mouth moved soundlessly, and then he was hugging thesquid-version of himself, then the Tony-mer, and then he swam toward the photograph.

“We’ve got him,” Strange reported, and then-- with a wet splash,the photograph tore in half and Bucky, dripping wet and shivering, was gaspingfor air in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, god, Bucky, honey,” Tony cried, and then he was there, hisarms around his shivering, soaked boyfriend, as Bucky coughed and spluttered.

“I’m okay,” he said, finally, tucking his face against Tony’sthroat. “I’m okay, baby. I’m here, I’m home, oh, god.” And then Bucky was sobbing,clutching Tony tight. “Didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. They didn’t knowhow t’ get me back. Oh, Tony.”

“Honey,” Tony said, seriously, “I will never stop looking for you.Never. Promise.”

Bucky was nodding, and Steve threw a blanket down over him, whichTony used to start rubbing him dry and warm.

“I tell ya, babe,” Bucky said, after a while, “I never, ever wantto go deep-sea divin’ again.”

“Yeah? Under the sea’s not for you?”

“Well, you had a real cute tail, down there,” Bucky mentioned,“but I think legs are to be preferred.”

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #mermaid au #magic #squid bucky #merman tony #wanda maximoff #dr. strange #steve rogers #prompts #tisfan #Anonymous

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candied-peach · 4 years

Text

ao3: “breath taking” rating: T warnings: one suggestive comment, chronic illness, asthma, arthritis, migraines, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, intruloceit genre: fluff description: Deceit, Remus, and Logan have a quiet day in bed. (anon prompt: "*slides in* disabled/ chronically ill dark sides (or Logan) for the soul? :3")

"I wanna crack my bones like sticks," Remus announces as he hobbles into Deceit's room. Dee looks up from a blanket nest, his mouth open as he struggles to pull in air. Logan doesn't stir from his sprawled out spot at the end of Deceit's bed, a warm washcloth over his eyes.

"Did you take your meds?" Remus asks, eyes darting between the two of them. Logan flashes the a-okay sign with one hand, and Deceit nods wearily.

"Took my inhaler an hour ago," Deceit explains, breathless. "My lungs don't wish to function properly today. Of all the things to be bad at, why is breathing one of them?"

"Mood," Remus says, and takes his customary spot at the top of Deceit's bed, fishing out the heating pad. "I made my knee crack so loud, Patton thought a gun went off. It was hilarious."

"Have you taken your meds, cephy?" Logan asks, finally able to contribute to the conversation.

"Yeah, before I came," Remus says, sketching a salute in the direction of his other boyfriend. "I knew what you'd say!"

"Good," Dee manages to say. "That's...important. Fuck asthma."

"Sure, Dee Dee, but I don't think fucking your lungs will help right now," Remus says with mock seriousness. Dee wheezes a surprised laugh.

"You are the worst," Dee says, still laughing. "Don't make me laugh yet."

"Sorry," Remus says, wiggling into a more comfortable position. He sinks his fingers in the unruly cloud of Deceit's hair, soothing him. "So, lazy day?"

"Lazy day," Logan confirms.

"I wish I could pull out my eyes," Remus announces a moment later.

"Perhaps not this lazy then," Dee murmurs. "Logan, do you think your head could handle a documentary if it was kept quiet?"

"Yes," Logan says, after a moment's consideration. "My medication has started to work, so as long as it was nothing loud or obnoxious, I believe I would be fine."

"Would you like that?" Dee asks Remus. Remus nods eagerly, then winces as his neck creaks.

"Thomas saw a new cephalopod documentary," Remus volunteers. "It's all about giant squids in particular! And the vampire squid, which isn't really a squid at all! Can we watch that one?"

"Sounds good to me," Deceit says, absently rubbing at his chest. "Lo, what do you think?"

"I'm just glad it's not a musical or something," Logan says dryly. "Not that I mind musicals when my head isn't pounding enough to be part of the drum section, but-"

"Not now," Remus finishes. "Don't worry, Lo Lo, I'm not my bro! No serenades under the moon light! Or uh-" He looks around. "Heat lamp."

"That's a very nice heat lamp," Deceit says, still slightly breathless. "It keeps me warm."

"Not as warm as I can," Remus says. It's only the truth. He might as well be Dee's personal heater. He tugs at one of Deceit's blankets, snuggling closer. Dee smiles.

"Logan, can you put the documentary on?" Dee asks. "You're closest to the TV."

"Only because I love you," Logan says, gingerly sitting up and setting the washcloth aside. Remus beams fondly at him.

"Feeling's mutual!" He sings out, quietly.

Deceit wraps one arm around Remus's shoulders, pulling him close.

"Exactly," Deceit murmurs.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @littlestliu @matthindavick @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @killjoy-3000 @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @the-sunshine-dims @iamthenewqueenofgames

#🍬 txt #sanders sides #intruloceit #romantic intruloceit #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #remus #deceit #logan #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #📚#ok to rb #peach writes #janus

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