junuh
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IV wasn’t shy in the way Vessel was, and he’d spent much of their youth standing up for the two of them as his friend loomed quietly beside him, but sex had always felt like a private thing to him, something he didn’t quite know how to articulate — he was just sort of embarrassed about having that attention on him, like he was about to wake up and realise it was just one large practical joke at his expense.
But it was New Year’s Eve, and he was drunk and Vessel had fucked off to Hammersmith with his possessive freak of a boyfriend, and there was a man with pretty makeup on his pretty face and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Just for the night.
Series
- Part 2 of Violence of Grief
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No one knew, of course. No one knew because it was just fucking. Just friends fucking. No heat sex and II took care of his ruts privately. No biting, no scruffing — certainly not like he’d done tonight; on the table in front of the others, but it was II's duty as pack alpha to make sure Vessel knew his place, even if he felt bad about it after.
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II and Vessel have a complicated relationship with complicated feelings and it's all a bit of a mess.
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It had been over nine months since the breakup, and Vessel was over it. Over the darkness that had orbited the both of them for years and years. Over what had happened at the end of the year. Over how he'd nearly lost everything; his job, his friendship, his sanity. This wouldn't be a rebound, but a reset.
Series
- Part 1 of Violence of Grief
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“Ivy knows what he wants,” III said instead of a greeting. IV sank down in his seat, his shoulders coming up to his ears.
“Oh, yeah?” II’s eyes flickered over to him slumped in his seat, overly fixated on his mug of tea once he’d pushed his cereal away. “What is it he wants?”
“My puppy wants to fuck your wife.”
“That’s not —” IV started, but he saw the way II’s head tilted upwards, his shoulders stiff as he moved into a more pronounced position. His mouth closed, his eyes dropping.
“And what does he know about my wife?” II’s eyes were sharper than before. The kind of expression that demanded a response, but IV didn’t know what to say or why they were talking about Vessel like that.
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“You’re not due for another week,” II said with his arms crossed, staring at the tent in IV’s pyjamas and then at the beads of sweat trailing down his forehead. “Why has it come early?”
“Not sure how to ask Sleep that,” IV panted, fingers fumbling on the frame of the door. II seemed to relent, hand wrapping around his arm and pulling him into the house.
“Vessel is away,” he said plainly once the door had closed behind them. He guided IV upstairs, to the warmth of their bedroom. “At the beach.”
“What?” IV said, voice raising an octave. Not good. Not good at all. “But this is a fuck or die situation... Vessel said that once...and you don’t live near the beach.”
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Bestowed with a monthly curse by their beloved Sleep, IV's arrangement with his fellow vessels requires adjustment when only one is around to fulfil his needs.
Recent series
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Summary
After the collapse of a toxic relationship and a mental health crisis, Vessel rebuilds his life with the support of his childhood friend, a charismatic drummer, and the chaotic almost-hook up who brings them all together in the first place.
Angsty slice of life-ish. II/Vessel, III/IV
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- 103,054
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- 2
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“I’m doing you a kindness by keeping myself covered." II does not deserve to see the face of his old friend desecrated. It is better he keep the memory of his last glimpse of Vessel untarnished, and remember him as he was, not as he is. Vessel had been bloody, then, dragged thrashing through the living forest of the Host, but at least he had been human. “Not many can look me in the eye without flinching.”
“I’m not like most,” II says boldly. His shortswords flash in the dark. “I do not flinch from anything.”
His unflinching confidence is one of the things Vessel most admires of him. To II, fear had only ever been another enemy to conquer.
“I will give you one last chance. Remove your cloak and come quietly, or face the edge of my blades.”
Fighting is not an option.
He runs.
Once, Vessel was the First Prince of House Veridian, destined to usher Arcadia into an age of glory with II, his bondmate and personal guard, by his side. Then he was captured by The Feathered Host, and everything he thought he knew was stripped away.
Now a member of the Host himself, Vessel struggles to reconcile what he is with where he wishes to belong.
Bookmarked by junuh
24 Jan 2026
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“Three?”
“Fucking hell, I’m so drunk.”
“Me too.” Vessel’s finger pauses. “You good?”
Three turns his head to look at him. “What are we doing?” he asks softly.
“I don’t know,” Vessel admits, “What do you want to do?”
The computer glows between them; Three tries to focus on the show they’ve been watching, but he wasn’t paying attention for the first fifteen minutes. Vessel’s now stroking up his arm; his touch sends Three’s hair standing on end.
He looks down at Vessel’s hand, at the way goosebumps have broken out across his skin. “Are we gonna…am I tripping balls, or are we gonna kiss?”
—
They drink booze and Vessel licks III during band practice. They both have some feelings about it.
Series
- Part 1 of CR7
Bookmarked by junuh
16 Sep 2025
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Summary
Up on the low stage in the corner, under a yellow lamp that buzzed faintly, stood an android.
II froze, fork halfway to his mouth, listening as the android sang. It was a song he knew overly well at this point, something that played on loop from the radio his mum played in the car, but the words didn’t matter. It was the way the notes carried, warm and unhurried, threaded with something that made II’s chest ache.
Or, a collection of times where II learns about the concepts of the world, of love, and of what it means to feel alive.
Series
- Part 2 of Botssel AU
Bookmarked by junuh
15 Sep 2025