1 - 20 of 107 Works by bubatron
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II is sure some kind of animal infiltrated his garden to have late-night feasts on his raspberries. After a short encounter with it one night, his uninvited guest disappears, leaving him with some questions, only to make an unexpected return and raise even more.
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II accidentally adopts a creature while III and IV are away.
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“What’s wrong, love?”
Vessel’s smile was steadily turning into more of a strained thing, something closer to a grimace than anything genuine. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” He couldn’t look at him and his voice quivered so badly that there was no way II could have believed him.
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Vessel should have been in his room, as far as IV remembered, but he tended to move quietly and could have been somewhere else in the house. Still, IV didn’t like the weird silhouette he caught a glance of in the dimly lit room.
III pushed down on the handle and peeked inside for a few moments while IV was close behind, trying to get another look, mind running a mile a minute about what could have possibly gotten into their partner’s room from outside. A bird? Some kind of rodent?
“Four?”
“Do you see it?” IV was trying to get a glimpse but III was blocking his way.
III’s voice was full of disbelief as he opened the door further. “Is that a baby?”
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“Alright, love?”
Vessel swallowed thickly, poking the bridge of his glasses without a thought to the gesture. His throat felt tight and his heart hammered where they were pressed together. II’s palm settling on his sternum told him he felt it, too.
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Vessel leaned down to get the vacuum open, then crouched to pull out the dust bag. It didn’t fit quite right – they hadn’t been able to get the exact type that fit their model since they had first got it – so it needed some side-to-side shifting to get out. Just when he managed, he realized a corner of the bag was torn, so apart from the thin cloud of dust that usually came with removing the dust bag, now even further highlighted by the sun rays invading the room, more grayness and vague dust balls joined, staining the freshly clean carpet.
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Vessel vacuums the living room and contemplates loss
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“You’re biting your nails,” II said, not judging, not accusing, but simply unfolding his fingers where Vessel hadn’t realized he had made a protective fist, trying to conceal what he was about to do. He turned his hand over and looked at the slightly trembling digits, slowly running his thumb over the spread tips. His eyes flicked to Vessel’s face before he stated what they had now both noticed, “They’re all bitten down.”
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It’s time to wake the little one.
II opened his eyes with a smile and was up and out of bed without delay.
He was slow to open the door to Vessel’s room and tried not to have his excitement take over when he saw the smaller-than-usual lump under the duvet and a mop of lighter hair on the pillow.
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II saw how drained he was, had been for months now, writing and practicing, and then some more, all the while giving weakly reassuring smiles and saying that he couldn’t complain, as if he was trying to convince himself that it was justified, that he simply didn’t deserve attention or rest, like it was written into the foundation of the universe.
Series
- Part 1 of what wounds you've got
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He was covered with two blankets, with the lower one tucked tightly around his neck and chin. His hands were lying at his chest, uselessly tangled in the soft material that felt like it was pulling him further down as he mumbled, “I don’t wanna be sick.”
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Now Go When You're Ready (My Head’s Getting Heavy Pressed Against Your Arm) by bubatron
Fandoms: Sleep Token (Band)
13 Oct 2025
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I was there, still, even though it made no difference.
It did, to me, and, in the sentimental parts of my mind, it did to you, too, sometimes, even when there was no way for you to know.
Maybe you did, regardless, like you said: you’d know me anywhere; even stuck in the waiting room to the afterlife, it seems.
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He pulled his sleeves over his hands and swallowed around the lump in his throat. It tasted like tears: warm and stupid and useless.
“Two, I–” His face felt hot as he tried to sniffle it all back, to try and be normal and okay, but he failed, like so often, with so many other things. His throat tightened, and he had to swallow again before attempting to speak. “I’d really like a hug if that’s okay.”
Series
- Part 2 of what wounds you've got
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Something bordering on mischief glinted in III's eyes as he reached for one of Vessel’s hands to tug him up. He addressed II, “Gonna steal your boyfriend for a sec. Be right back.”
II blinked at the empty space where Vessel sat a moment ago, then at IV who sat beside him, wearing a knowing smile.
“He realizes I’m taking Ves out soon, right?”
IV just smirked and rested his chin in his hand. “He does.”
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Vessel and II go on an aquarium date. Vessel wears a skirt. They're soft and in love.
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II shook his head with an amused smile. “You’re like a monkey, mate, I swear.”
The singer stopped with his fingers wrapped around the guitar’s neck and frowned at him.
“With, you know–” II gestured with his arms, moving his fingers. “You sort of– touch things all the time. Move around and stuff.”
“Like a monkey–?” Vessel inclined his head as he repeated, confused.
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The child blinks.
Vessel swallows.
The dream is this. Sleep-given. It’s his.
It means something Vessel can’t deny, not when that doe-round hazel pair meets his ache-laden ones.
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It seemingly came out of nowhere, between a packet of pasta laid on the counter and layers of rust-colored peel being pulled off an onion. II picked up a stray piece of peel from the counter and threw it onto the pile with the rest, waiting for Vessel to cut the bulb, turning the words around in his head, working up to getting them out.
Finally, he managed to blurt, with no preamble, “Marry me.”
Series
- Part 2 of What Shall I Call You?
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II, III and IV scheme to get Vessel to be a little spoon.
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The truth is, I would know you in any universe, in any iteration, in any possible and impossible form you could take.
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Vessel didn’t have much to say about himself, but one thing that he could say was that few things touched him. In a way that could be seen from the outside, that is.
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He can almost see the blue text bubbles still, so much like their sender’s eyes, with something close to all-knowing in their brightness.
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There were only better things out there for that pair of blues with the hint of freckles dusted under them, those gentle hands and the kindest of gazes Vessel had ever had the fortune of coming across.