#‘ Besides tearing up at loud noises is a completely normal startle response. ‘

[inpatientofward222-willcipher]

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’D START TEARING UP IF I DROPPED SOMETHING AND THE CLATTER WAS TOO LOUD

“ I have a condition! My eye just waters an abnormal amount and it’s not—Ugh, I don’t have to explain myself—cus you know what you look like then? You look like someone’s who’s going to get reincarnated as a tree one day and have to stand around and do nothing forever—and I know you’d probably loathe that. So there! “

[olivinesea]

Shouldn’t Have To

a/n: I actually want to get a lot deeper into the gay baby college lives of these two but somehow this came out short and complete and I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Here ya go, more to come in this vein probably. ~1.6k

Emily trying to navigate her relationships, Hotch trying to keep it all together.

Hotch was exhausted. When had he ever felt any other way? He wasn’t sure. Not in this lifetime. He really needed to rethink his schedule. With a full course load he really shouldn’t be working thirty hours on top of that, even if it was only a campus job. There were benefits—his managers were usually gracious about the occasional plea for a shift change or a chance to cut out early when things were slow if he needed to work on a big project. But the pay was low, hence his acceptance of the extra hours. Emily had convinced him to move into an off campus apartment together for their third year of college and there were no scholarships to cover rent. Emily kept telling him to work less, that he really didn’t need to be paying half the rent when her mother didn’t notice how much she was spending anyway. He refused, growing quieter each time she brought it up until she finally realized the idea was insulting to him.

He didn’t mind working, certainly preferred it to empty hours and indebtedness to his best friend’s contentious relationship with her mother. It was impossible to deny how tiring this semester had been though. As it was, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a day off of both school and work. Possibly back in September. He was just grateful tomorrow would be Friday and he only had one class and a few precious hours to himself before he worked the closing shift. Thursday, however, was his longest day of the week: an opening shift and then two afternoon classes. All he could think about at the moment was dropping his backpack and flopping onto the couch, possibly forever. If he really got motivated he might eat some cereal.

Standing outside their apartment door, he could already hear the music as he put his key into the lock. He groaned internally, wondering if he could sneak away to his room before Emily tried to rope him into whatever plan she had for the evening. He steeled himself before opening the door, expecting to see Emily and possibly an unknown number of others lingering around their small kitchen table, hyping each other for some highly unnecessary excursion into the world.

All he found was an empty, though brightly lit, room. It was something they hadn’t managed to sort out—Hotch insisted that unless a light was in active use it needed to be turned off; Emily couldn’t be bothered to keep track of the state of a light switch, considering that a philosophical question between the light and its maker. In practice this looked like her leaving every light on and him trailing her from room to room switching them off.

“Emily!” he called into the apartment, priding himself on the fact that he barely sounded annoyed. There was no response, only the crash of drums and the pulse of a bass line from somewhere deeper in the apartment. Hotch hoped it was still early enough they wouldn’t be getting another noise complaint from their irritable downstairs neighbor. He locked the door carefully behind him and grumbled as he dropped his bag on the chair next to the table. He turned off the lights within reach as he moved through the living room toward the bedrooms.

The volume grew unbearably as he approached Emily’s room. He found her there but she couldn’t hear his approach and carried on unaware of his presence. He stood in the doorway, absorbing the scene. She was laying on the floor, an open bottle of wine beside her. In addition to the record playing at full blast, she had opened all her windows and the wind was howling in counterpoint to the music. She had clearly been crying, her cheeks were wet with tears she hadn’t bothered to wipe away. He sighed, leaning against the doorframe. Lately, she only acted like this for one reason—when she’d been fighting with her girlfriend. They’d been dating since early in the year and it seemed more and more often there was some new problem. Based on the the details in front of him, this had been a rough one.

He flicked the lights on and off to get her attention without startling her. Emily arched her neck to look back at him, glaring through her dark lashes. Hotch stepped over to the stereo and turned it down several notches. It was still loud but his ears wouldn’t start bleeding, at least not immediately. She lifted herself to lean on an elbow and took a pull from the wine bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She picked at the label as he settled on the floor next to her, cross-legged. Hotch looked at her, concerned, the corner of his mouth turned down. She looked back, chin lifted defiantly. Her whole body was tense, ready to snap at him, regardless of his lack of involvement in or even knowledge of what was going on. He’d have to choose his approach carefully.

Finally he said, “You should put on a sweater.”

Her laughter was loud and abrupt, dark red droplets spraying from her mouth. She was more than halfway through the bottle and well on her way to being drunk. He frowned in distaste, contemplating what it would take to redirect this energy. Emily had a tendency to spiral recklessly when forced to deal with emotional conflict.

“You’re stupid,” she replied amicably, sinking down to floor again. She held a hand out to him above her head and he took it. Engulfed by his own, her hand felt small and warm as he rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb. She pulled at him.

“Join me.”

Hotch sighed and scooted until he could lay on the floor beside her, their heads just barely touching. His feet were in the doorway while hers pointed to the windows on the opposite wall. They both stared up at the ceiling wordlessly, their dark hair mingling. Hotch folded his hands on his chest, ankles crossed; even laying on the floor he appeared neat. Emily, forever his opposite, had her arms splayed out beside her like a half formed snow angel. The next song played, something angry and sad. He could tell she was crying again even though she tried to hide it. He could hear it in the surreptitious sniffles, could feel the occasional movement of a hand scrubbing at her cheek. After the side ended, he waited for her to speak. They’d been here before and he knew if he gave her a little time she would open up.

“She said I’m a fucking liar.” Her voice twisted with bitterness and barely concealed fury.

He bit back a sigh, counting to ten before speaking. He refrained from asking if she had been lying. “How’s she figure that?”

“I told her she couldn’t come to the wedding.”

“Ah.” He tried to sound neutral but this wasn’t the first time this issue had come up. He had already listened to hours of this debate relayed second-hand. There was no good solution and he wasn’t sure what else to say about it.

She reached behind her to punch his shoulder and he grunted. He supposed this was a sign that he hadn’t been as neutral sounding as he’d been aiming for.

“The ambassador would have a fit,” she defended.

“Isn’t that normally your goal?” he asked dryly.

She made a sound of disgust and got up to flip the record. Surreptitiously she nudged the volume up again. When she returned to their spot on the floor she waved the wine bottle above his face, nearly brushing his nose. He tried to decline with a shake of his head.

“I’m sad,” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes but took a sip. She took it back and downed another gulp. They positioned themselves on the floor again, the opening bars of the b-side moodier than the previous tracks. The wind was blowing harder somehow; it would probably start raining soon. It whistled through the room, displacing some loose papers on Emily’s desk. Hotch could feel her shivering and his toes had gone numb. Enough of this, he decided. He rolled over and stood up beside her. She reluctantly accepted the hand he held out to her and he pulled her to her feet. She grabbed the mostly empty bottle as she stood. Unguarded, she looked so sad, so lost. Navigating the conflicting wishes of her mother and her girlfriend had been difficult from the beginning. It was only getting harder as the relationship continued. Instinctively he drew her into a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I want to bring her,” she said into his chest. “I’m not ashamed.” The insistence in her voice told him that this was in response to a statement he hadn’t be present for, the unfinished argument eating at her.

“I just—“ she sniffled. “She doesn’t understand. It’s complicated. It’s political.”

Hotch didn’t think he had ever heard that word sound so much like an expletive from anyone else.

“Have you eaten?”

She snorted. “Have you?”

“Fair enough. C’mon, I’ll make you some pasta.”

“Mac n cheese?” Her hopeful expression was almost childlike.

“Whatever you want darlin’,” his drawl slipped out and she smiled, just as he’d hoped she would. Hotch flipped off the lights and the last song faded out as they made their way to the kitchen.

[ilovefandoms102]

Never let you Go

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: JJ gets into a nasty fight, what happens when his memory is knocked a bit loose?

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​ @drewswannabegirl​ @sexualparkour​ @teamnick​ @jiaraendgame​ @agirlwholovescoffee​ @outerbongs​ @jaxxandcomet​ @velyssaraptor​ @baby-pogue​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @ma10427​ @ifilwtmfc​ @lasnaro​ @justcallmesams​ @judayyyw​ @lonely-kermit​ @gviosca​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @fernweh-fangirl​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @eb15​ @hurricane-abigail​ @tangledinsparkles​ @haley-talks-too-much​ @sunwardss​@http-cherries​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @evaporatedrosepetals @thetomatosaucee @tomatosauceagent @redosmo​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @obx-direction-sos @mxltifandoms06 @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @gracielou0518 @hannahhistorian92 @lemur46 @ohdangitsjay @screechinglawyer @leasly @sambucky8 @babebenhardy @poguestyleskye @joshy-obx @harryswigss @simpingforrudypankowonly

Note: I literally dreamed this the other night so I hope you guys like this!

===============================

You’d think after the three years that JJ and I have been together, everyone on the island would know by now to not mess with his girl (aka me)...

What was odd about the fight JJ had gotten himself into this time wasn’t even with a Kook, it was with a fellow Pogue. I can’t recall what even started the fight as I was too preoccupied with Pope trying to get JJ to not fight one of us. It had proven to be more difficult however as our fellow Pogue, whose name was Rat (fitting), kept shit talking to JJ, neither Pope or I could hear what he was saying though. 

We were on the beach as the boys continued to argue, their chests bumping together. I jumped to my feet from the towel I was sitting on, running towards them. 

“You think you’re tough shit don’t you Maybank?” our fellow Pogue asked.

“You don’t wanna do this with me Rat, I promise you.” JJ sneered, his chest heaving from the anger surging through him.

“What, your hoe keep you on a leash now Maybank?” Rat taunted, JJ going frigid.

“JJ!” I shouted, finally catching up to them.

“Did you just say what I think you just said?” JJ inquired, taking a step back. He flipped his hat so that it face backwards, and my blood ran cold.

He was about to beat the shit out of this guy...

“JJ no! You said no more fights!” I yelled, hoping to gain his attention. 

“Yeah JJ, no more fights.” Rat mocked in a high pitched voice.

JJ swung his fist before I could blink, his rings shining in the sun as they came across Rat’s nose. I gasped, holding my hands over my mouth. I really shouldn't be shocked from the amount of times I have had to pull JJ from fights. Pope held me back as he could see it was probably best to let him get his rage out. JJ wasn’t an easy person to talk down. Even if I stepped in front of him, he would pick me up and gently sit me behind him before his fists went back to work. 

“Come on pretty boy, is that all you got?! Your little bitch got you so strung up by your dick you can’t even throw a punch?” Rat cackled, his posse joining from behind him.

It was at that moment, I knew this had gone too far. This was about to get nasty...

JJ’s eyes flashed to a dark blue, his teeth gritting as he charged at Rat. I held on tighter to Pope as JJ and Rat went crashing into the sand, crazed worry traveling up my spine. 

I wasn’t sure how long they had been at it before Rat’s friends decided they wanted to jump in, Pope and I both springing into action. I wasn’t much of a fighter, but I had thrown a punch a time or two. The problem was, there were too many of them. As a few ganged up on JJ, two more came at Pope and I. I threw my fist out at the boy coming my way, hearing the sickening crack as my fist made contact with his nose.

I heard JJ’s grunts and shouts from behind me, my eyes wild as I turned for just a second. All I could see was Rat and his posse completely hammering down on JJ, making me more determined to stop them. I turned back to the boy, kicking him where it counts before uppercutting his jaw, and knocked him out cold. 

“Get off of him!” I screeched, jumping on Rat’s back. 

“Stupid bitch!” Rat huffed, trying to pry my fingers off of him.

Thankfully, our friend group pulled up just in time. John B flew out of the van, Kie coming to assist me. I shook my head at her, nodding my head to Pope. I got Rat down to the ground, jumping up quickly. I stomped on his hands before delivering a quick kick to where he’d feel it. 

Rat and his posse dispersed, sprinting away as we now outnumbered them. I immediately went to JJ’s side, his lips a scary blue color.

“JJ? Baby can you hear me?” I sniffled, not getting a response.

“We need to get to the hospital!” I cried, my friends aiding me as we whisked JJ to the local emergency room.

=======================================

I paced back and forth in the waiting room, nerves eating away at my bones. Everyone else had already left for the night, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew JJ was ok.

I heard a commotion coming from down the hall, a loud shout that sounded an awful lot like JJ booming through the tiny ER. I jumped to my feet, taking off down to where the noise was coming from. I was startled to see three female and two male nurses trying to manhandle JJ back to his room. His face was blood red, his teeth hissing as he griped something I couldn’t understand.

JJ’s eyes caught mine, his blue eyes rimmed red. My feet carried me towards him automatically, despite the predatory look he cast my way. The nurses shouted for me to stay away, but I came to my lovers aid anyways.

“Baby calm down, I’m here now.” I said to JJ, trying to reach out to him.

“Where is she?! You took her from me!” he seethed, his hand snatching my wrist. The nurses tried to pry his hand away, but his strength proved as he squeezed me tighter.

“JJ! You’re hurting me!” I cried out, welts forming where his rings cut into my skin.

“Let her go son, you’re not in your right mind!” a nurse spat out.

They finally wrestled him into a bed, strapping his arms down. He thrashed around, screaming my name. His eyes wild as they scanned the room, tears flowing down his cheeks. The nurses ushered me out of the room, one pulling out a needle to shove in JJ’s arm.

“What’s wrong with him?” I sobbed.

“Whatever you kids got in to, knocked his head a bit whack. Doc said he should be fine by tomorrow. Probably best for you to go home sweetheart.” one of the nurses said, chest still heaving from JJ’s outburst. They left to go back to the nurses bay, my back collided with the wall as I slid down to the floor.

I cried outside of his room for what felt like hours, my chest heaving as my cries turned into soft hiccups. My back was starting to ache, and I didn’t want to leave JJ. I took a deep breath as I reentered the room, trying to tiptoe my way to the couch. Once I was in his eyesight, I heard the soft call of my name.

“Babygirl, have you been crying?” JJ asked, his eyes barely open as sleep was overtaking him.

“Go to sleep J, I’ll be here when you wake up.” I spoke softly, glad that he was somewhat back to normal.

“Will you lay with me?” he whispered, moving one of his hands to hold it out to me.

How could I deny him?

“Yeah J, scoot over.” I smiled, kissing his cheek softly.

“What happened to your wrist?” he questioned.

I looked back into his baby blue eyes, not thinking of an excuse fast enough from the fatigue I suffered. It was like something dawned behind his eyes, realization flooding through him. A single tear fell down his cheek, his lips quivering as he stared at my bruised wrist.

“I did that. I did that to you. I remember now... I-I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.” he babbled, his shoulders shaking as his face dove in my chest.

“Oh JJ, I would never hate you. I know that wasn’t you. It’s ok, please don’t cry.” I soothed, gently running my fingers through his hair.

“I hurt you, fuck I can’t believe I did that. The one thing I swore I could never do, and I did it.” he sobbed, his arms circling my waist as his tears soaked into my shirt.

“JJ that wasn’t you, I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.” I murmured, kissing the top of his head.

“I thought they were going to take you away, I thought you were one of the people that were going to take you away from me.” he repeated, his body shaking as he cried against me. 

“Honey it’s ok, those fuck heads hit you hard. I tried to get to you as fast as I could.” I spoke, hugging him tighter to me. 

“I saw the punch you threw, it was hot.” he mumbled, both of us laughing. 

“You need to rest, come on let’s lay down.” I smiled. 

We shuffled around until we were both cuddled against each other, JJ’s head snuggled in my chest. My fingers trailed lightly down his back, lulling the soft snores from his lips. My eyes drooped shut, my limbs relaxing in the cold hospital bed.

============================

JJ had to get another CT scan before he could go home, so I used that time to go back home to shower and change my clothes. I scrubbed at the dried blood and sand that caked my skin, disgusted as it ran down my drain a dark rust color. 

I walked back towards where his room was, stopping short when I saw the bed was empty. I whipped my head around, looking for JJ’s blonde hair. My breath caught in my throat when I saw someone crying in the corner that looked like JJ’s dad. My heart felt like it left my body, shock flowing through my veins. I let out a heart wrenching sob, falling on my ass as I cried.

He couldn’t be gone, he was fine this morning...

What could have possibly went wrong within the two hours from when I had left?

My knees came to my chest, arms wrapping around myself as I heaved sobs. JJ, he was gone...my hotheaded, sweet, stupid, and loving partner in crime. I cried harder as the realization of what we shared together was done. My greatest love was gone, my heart shattering more. 

“Now why is my pretty girl crying?” an all too familiar voice asked.

“JJ!” I gasped, the boy coming to sit beside of me.

I threw myself in his arms, holding on to him for dear life. A deep chuckle left JJ’s lips as he caught me, forcing him back a little. He cooed gently as I cried into his shoulder, his fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of my neck. 

“I thought you were gone,” I wailed, scooting even closer so that my whole body was touching his.

“I had to go for that test baby.” he stated, pulling my head back.

“I thought...I thought that guy over there was your dad and-and that you-” I sniffled.

“Shhh, baby I’m here. I’m ok.” JJ affirmed, kissing my tear stained cheeks.

“I don’t ever want to feel like that again J, I can’t lose you.” I spoke softly, leaning the rest of the way to tenderly kiss his lips.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he teased, nipping my lips playfully. I giggled at his actions, kissing his lips again.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, always.” he whispered back.

[raw-lesbian-energy]

The Big Sister Law

[Image description: Anonymous said

Caroline, Sprig and Polly’s wreck Anne for being angry (you can choose what she is upset about)]

Okay so this one was really vague but this idea felt fitting so I hope you enjoy it, Anon!

——

Summary: Anne finds herself having a bad day, and Caroline enacts what she calls ‘the big sister law’ to help her feel better. With the help of Sprig and Polly, of course.

Fandom: Amphibia (The Wild Soul AU)

Pairing: None

Features: Self-Insert

Word Count: 1,120

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, just keep scrolling.

—————————————————————

Normally, Anne Boonchuy was able to handle a bad day.

Today, however, seemed to be out to get her.

It started when she overslept, rushing to get ready and almost tripping down the stairs when she went to get breakfast. By the time she had made it to the kitchen, most of the food had already been eaten, leaving her stuck with scraps and leftovers.

Things only got worse when a small horde of frog bots showed up, which she, the Plantars, and Caroline had to fight off. Anne had almost gotten blasted thanks to a misstep, resulting in some debris landing right on the teen’s foot. It seemed like everything that could go wrong that day was, indeed, going wrong.

Extremely, horribly, oh so very wrong.

So, Anne chose to hide away in her room, lying face-down on her bed with her injured foot bandaged and her phone playing music next to her. She wanted to just sleep the rest of the awful day away, but it seemed that life had other plans.

“Anne?” Caroline’s voice sounded in the doorway, though Anne didn’t even glance up. She merely grumbled in response, hearing footsteps and feeling a weight settle on her bed as the young woman sat down.

“How’s your foot?” She asked, trying to break the silence. Anne shrugged, still not moving from her spot.

“It’s fine.” She mumbled, her voice almost inaudible through the pillow. Caroline wasn’t convinced, her brow furrowing before an idea crossed her mind. A small mischievous smirk made its’ way onto her face, and turning her gaze to the door, she saw Sprig and Polly were still waiting. She silently signalled for them to come in, putting a finger to her lips to tell them to keep quiet.

“Kiddo,” The young woman turned back to the teen, talking to cover up any other noise, “you know I’m here to listen if something’s bothering you.” Anne remained silent for a moment, mulling it over in her head before letting out a long sigh.

“…Bad day.” She said at last. “Just…grumpy.” Caroline let out a small ‘oh’ in realization, smiling and tilting her head slightly.

“Well, that’s no fun.” She commented. “If that’s the case, then it seems there’s only one thing that can be done.” This actually caused Anne to turn her head, looking back at Caroline with confusion.

“What’s that?” She asked, her voice clearer now that she wasn’t talking into her pillow. She quickly noticed the mischievous glint in the young woman’s eyes, causing a small squirming sensation in her stomach.

“Well,” Caroline’s tone held just as much mischief as her eyes, “since I am your big sister now, it only makes sense that I start acting like it.” It didn’t take long for Anne to realize what she was getting at, her eyes widening before she pushed herself up and tried to scramble away. Caroline had anticipated the movement, however, snagging Anne’s waist and yanking her back.

“Oh no, you don’t!” She cried, wrestling to keep her grip. She quickly wiggled her fingers against Anne’s side, earning a squeak and frantic giggling from the teen. The tickling made her unable to fight back as much, allowing Caroline to effectively hold onto her.

“Carolihihine!” Anne squealed through her giggling, kicking her legs uselessly. She couldn’t do much with her foot still hurt, but that was the least of her worries as she noticed Sprig and Polly had joined the two on the bed.

“Hey, guys!” Caroline said cheerfully, slowing her attack slightly. “Care to help me cheer up Anne?” The two frogs gained matching grins, and Anne felt her heart flutter anxiously as she realized she was screwed.

“Wait wait waHAHAIT!” The teen broke into loud cackles as three sets of hands swarmed her torso, sending electric sensations shooting through her body. Polly focused mostly on her stomach, which had become slightly exposed from her shirt riding up slightly. Sprig was tickling away at her sides, and Caroline skillfully played her ribs like a piano.

“Hey, you’re looking happier already!” The young woman teased, making Anne’s face flush red. She could handle being tickled silly, but any teasing made her want to curl up and vanish. Unfortunately, with the way she was being held, curling up at all wasn’t an option.

“Cut it ohohohout!” She cried, her words barely cutting through her laughter as she weakly tried to escape. Her plea was met with Caroline sneaking her hands under her arms, earning a shrieky cry that quickly turned to hysterical laughter.

“There it is!” The woman exclaimed, grinning ear-to-ear. “There’s the laugh I was looking for!” Anne’s face had gone completely red, her eyes screwed shut as she frantically shook her head side to side. This only caused her hair to brush against her neck, her shoulders scrunching to try and block the tickling sensation it caused. Polly was the first to notice it, and hopping up to get a better look, she wiggled her flippers against the side of the teen’s neck.

The reaction was instant. The squeal that erupted from Anne’s throat rang through the house, startling the other three to the point that Polly almost fell over. She was quick to regain her footing, though, and grinned as she started tickling Anne’s neck relentlessly.

“NAHAHAHA-!” Anne couldn’t speak anymore, the sensation overwhelming her as all she could do was laugh her head off. It wasn’t long after that she started reaching her limit, and Caroline let up with Sprig and Polly following suit. The teen took in gulps of air as giggles still escaped her, lying back against Caroline as she caught her breath.

“You okay?” Caroline asked, a smile on her face but a tone of concern in her voice. Anne nodded slowly, wiping away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

“Yeheheah.” She replied, her body still tingling from the ticklish onslaught. A goofy smile remained on her face, her cheeks flushed from laughing so much, but she couldn’t help but notice she felt a lot happier than before.

“Hey, uh…” she started, glancing between the three around her, “…thanks for helping me feel better.” Sprig and Polly smiled at her, while Caroline chuckled and ruffled her hair.

“Hey, it’s what siblings do.” She told her. “And besides, it’s a big sister’s responsibility to make sure her little sister’s okay, even if it means resorting to some mischievous methods.” Anne giggled and rolled her eyes, sitting up and stretching.

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” She replied. “Now, any chance we can get something to eat? I am famished.” Caroline laughed and nodded, and with that, the four of them left Anne’s room to get some well-deserved snacks.

[ethereaiin]

Entwined | fate grand order

synopsis; there were so many things left unsaid between the two of you. one day you'd tell her she meant more to you than she ever realized. 

features; you and kyrielight mash

[au]

extra; game spoilers included!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

       There was only a handful of times you genuinely felt helpless against the tides of fate. Much of how others thought of you, you were an optimistic person who liked to look at the brighter sides of things even when it seemed as if the whole world was against you. It was what kept you grounded during the tough fight against Tiamat in Babylonia. No matter what happened, no matter the circumstances, you always believed you’d prevail. Besides, what choice did you have?

       Giving up would mean the end of humanity and you… you weren’t ready to die just yet nor were you willing to see all the hard work from everyone back in Chaldea go to waste. You alone were the only person able to put a stop to Solomon’s madness and no matter how much you may have wished to, you couldn’t exactly turn away from it. Humanity, metaphorically, rested atop your shoulders and you weren’t that much of a fool to deny your responsibility. You had things, people, to fight for and as you stand before Solomon’s grand throne, you couldn’t help but think of them.

       The doctor, undoubtedly believed you’d return unscathed and successful in your battle against Solomon. It was his greatest hope and although he was more of the type to be rife with anxiety during a stressful mission, you thought he might have had a little more hope than you in this situation. Da Vinci, being the arguably more sensible one out of the two, even she would have at least acknowledged the difficulty of the task you and Mash were undertaking. Still, she would have given you that gentle smile that you assured you what you should have already known from the beginning.

       You knew fear like the back of your hand. You felt it when you stared at the approaching form of Tiamat when she broke through Uruk’s walls and you felt it now when you realized you had failed to stop Solomon’s noble phantasm from going off. It was a cold sensation, one that left you feeling numb and not at all like yourself. Normally you would have felt that familiar flicker of hope deep within your chest, the one that assured you that no matter what you’d succeed.

       Yet the moment that smug grin reached Solomon’s lips, you knew. There wasn’t any hope left to believe in.

       How were you meant to defeat him when it seemed as if your servants had done nothing to make even a dent in his resolve? The fear was almost painful and the hopelessness that accompanied it could have crushed you under its weight.

       “Master!”

       You flinched, your eyes meeting the violet gaze of Mash who looked to have also been slightly shaken by the outcome of things yet she held her composure far better than you.

       Her face and the bit of exposed skin on her arms were covered in scrapes. Her armor looked no better, parts were missing and it was dinged with the wear of battle. It was a testament to the amount of effort she placed in the task the both of you were assigned and it wasn’t as if you looked any better. Your uniform was torn in places and you could feel the sting of your wounds each time you moved. You both looked worse for wear, yet there was a difference between you two.

       While you looked as if you had given up, Mash still held the look of faith.

       With brows furrowed and a determined frown drawn across her lips, she protectively held her shield in front of you as if to block the sight of Solomon’s menacing figure from your line of sight if only for a moment.

       “Get ahold of yourself, senpai.” Her change in titles meant she were speaking to you as the Mash you knew to be your friend and not the Mash you knew as your servant. “All of those servants out there…” She shuttered, her one visible eye blinking rapidly as if she were holding back tears and knowing her sentimental nature, you knew she must have been. “They weren’t willing to sacrifice their lives for you to give up now! We will get through this, senpai. Just like how we got through everything else!”

       Her words, as strong as they were, reminded you of the same lines you used to recite to her when she began showing doubts in her capabilities. It was odd to find yourself dealing with such pessimistic thoughts when you were once the one doing all the encouraging. The fear and hopelessness you felt throughout your being didn’t suddenly dissipate with her words, but it did lessen.

       “But, how?” Your voice couldn’t help but convey the heavy dread you felt. Your tone was weak due to your exhaustion and you could barely look Mash in the eye as you revealed the extent of your forlorn.

       At this, Mash smiled. It was gentle and held a hint of understanding. She must have known how you felt and it was all conveyed with one mere look. You could hear Solomon beginning the start of his phantasm and though you could feel your heart pumping faster in response to it, Mash didn’t seem to lose her cool. She placed herself in front of you, shield separating the both of you and Solomon’s glowing figure.  

       “I’ll protect you, senpai.” She simply states, her smile never fading even as she turned her back towards you. “Just as you have always done for me.”

       It takes you a moment to understand just what she meant by her words and when it finally does register in your mind, its already too late. Just as you were about to reach out to her to stop her from doing whatever it was she was planning, there as blinding flash of light that emitted from where Solomon stood. It was so bright that you couldn’t help but shield your eyes away from its rays with your arm. Although you could no longer see as well, you could hear Mash shout to activate her noble phantasm and the subsequent increase in brightness as Solomon’s phantasm assumedly shot off. Your ears perked at the sound of her cries as she held against the intensity of his power and you knew it was taking all her might to hold her ground. The floor shook beneath you and your eardrums burst with the thundering sound of an explosion. It rings throughout all of the area and you're sure its loud enough even for Romani and Da Vinci to hear all the way back in Chaldea.

       You knew she wouldn’t survive this. No human could and even if she were a demi-servant, it would not exempt her from the destruction such power would do to her body.

       Your arm, that wasn’t shielding your eyes, desperately reached out towards her. Your screams of her name was buried beneath the noise of Solomon’s power and you doubted she would even turn around to acknowledge you even if she could hear. Your heart pounded painfully against your chest and the corners of your eyes pricked with tears that ran hotly down your cheeks. You already knew what was going to happen, you could already see parts of her disappearing right before your eyes and there wasn’t a thing you could do to stop it. Your eyes clenched shut as the intensity of light grew to an unbearable amount and your arms moved to shield your face completely from the bit of rays that peeked over both Mash’s form and her steady shield. There was a combination of fear and pressure from the overwhelming amount of mana being blasted towards you that kept you in place on the ground you collapsed upon. You couldn't move an inch from your position and once again you felt that feeling of sheer helplessness creep upon you.

       Without Mash by your side, what could you possibly hope to achieve?

       There was a burning smell in the air that made you scrunch your nose and once the blinding light dimmed down you snapped open your eyes to peer at what remained. Burns covered your arms and your clothes were reduced to nothing more than singed tatters. Mash’s shield still stood grounded in front of you, but there were no signs of the girl anywhere to be found, leaving only one conclusion you morbidly expected.

       You felt your heart drop and the tears which were burned away returned in tenfold. Instead of the fear you felt only moments prior, it was replaced with a fiery anger. Your eyes sharpened into a heated glare as you shot up from your place on the ground and when you gazed into the unfazed visage of Solomon, you could feel nothing but hatred. Your right hand rose from your side, the sigil marking you as a Master glowing a crimson red. Although your voice wavered with both fatigue and grief, your tone still held firmly.

       “Servants, with this command spell I order you…”

       “...pai? Senpai!”

       You awoke with a startled gasp that had you shooting into an upright position. Sleepily, you glanced around the lounge you were napping away in when you caught sight of a familiar violet haired girl kneeling beside you with a look of concern. Mash’s hands were hovering midair, due to your abrupt actions after she shook you awake. You blinked hazily at her before rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hands.

       “Mash… what’s wrong?” Your tone was still heavy with drowsiness but that still didn’t seem to ease the concern Mash gazed at you with.

       “Um, senpai, I should be asking you that… I heard you crying in your sleep.” She states with furrowed brows and sure enough you could feel a distinct dampness to your lower lids and the apples of your cheeks. “I thought you were having a nightmare so I woke you up.”

       Staring at the teardrop that strayed on the surface of your knuckle, you could just barely recall the reason for your sudden sorrow. Your dream was a memory of sorts. The final events that concluded the grand order was significant enough to be forever ingrained in your head. You could never forget the pain you felt with the loss of two of your dearest friends and although one of them returned back to you, you couldn’t exactly forget everything else that led up to that moment.

       Your eyes clenched shut for a brief moment, the flashed images of Doctor Romani’s soft smile appearing behind your lids as a sigh escaped your lips. You shook your head to dismiss both her concern and the memories that plagued you.

       “It’s nothing Mash,” In a show of assurance, you flashed her a grin as you rose up from the sofa along with her. “You were right, I was just having a bad dream.”

       Mash stared at you for a moment her gaze letting you know that she didn’t believe a word you said, yet she didn’t pry for anything more. She simply slipped her hand in yours with a slight blush that colored her pale cheeks before she began to lead you out of the room.

       “There’s something I wish to show you, senpai.” She shyly mutters though through the silence permeating the halls, you hear her clearly.

       Your curiousity is piqued and although you voice it with a variety of questions directed towards her, she never once gives into your pleas to relent a hint. You thought she was far too stubborn in that regard and although you sport a petulant pout throughout your journey through Chaldea’s halls, you still find the excitement of mystery to be riveting.

       It was only until she stopped in front of the door to her room that she dropped her hand from your own and it was then you realized she hadn’t once let it go since she awoke you from your nap. Although you never considered yourself to be the easily flustered type, your cheeks couldn’t help but burn at her bold move. While Mash could do such things in her excitement, she’s never knowingly initiated contact like that before by herself.

       “Senpai,” She calls, taking you out of your thoughts as she beckons you into her darkened room.

       With a bit of apprehension, you wander in and when you hear her footsteps near you, you glance over your shoulder at Mash as your lips part with an obvious question. “What did you wanna show me?”

       Through the dimly lit room, you see her lips turn up into a cheery smile and once she steps up besides you, she leans in a little to answer in a lowered voice. “You’ll see.”

       Your curiousity is hard to hide and with some impatience, you watch as she leaves your side to walk further into the room followed by a click of a switch a few moments after. You hear a low humming noise and then suddenly the ceiling above you is encased in an array of stars. The room immediately light up in a dim blue hue and you can’t help the awe of wonder that unconsciously escaped you. You’re so entranced by the sight of stars that you don’t even notice when Mash closes the door to her room, further shrouding her room in darkness nor do you hear her when she takes her place at your side.

       “Mash,” Your wonder is so glaringly obvious at this point you don’t even try and hid it in the tone of your voice. “Where did you get this?”

       You knew they weren’t real stars, but they looked real enough. Since coming to Chaldea, you haven’t seen stars in awhile other than the ones in singularities, but even then those always had a bit of an artificial feel to them. To you, these stars felt a lot more different from the ones before and you couldn’t exactly understand why. Maybe it was because these were the stars Mash showed you and already that made them more special than the others.

       When you didn’t get an immediate answer from Mash like you had expected, you turned your head to glance at her only to find her already staring back at you. She blinked in surprise at the sudden connection of your gaze before blushing and averting her eyes elsewhere.

       “D-Da Vinci made it…” She relents as she rose her head to stare at the same stars you did. “When I told her that I wanted to see stars, she gave me this… she also said I should show you too.”

       “Did she?”

       Even in the dim light you could see Mash’s cheeks darken as she mumbled out a confirmation to your question. Your lips widened into a cheeky grin, though you didn’t bother pressing her any further. When you dragged your eyes right back up at the twinkling stars above, you felt a sense of peace come over you. It was a refreshing feeling especially after an awful nightmare of a memory.

       “Senpai, do you feel better now?”

       Once again your gaze caught hers though she was admittedly more calmer than the last time your eyes met. She was concerned for you. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that. For the past few weeks your nightmares have run rampant to the point where you’d much rather stay awake than sleep and the effects it had on your health were becoming increasingly apparent. You had no doubts Da Vinci had probably voiced her concerns with your latest check-up to Mash.

       You exhale a quiet sigh as your lips quirk into a demure smile. When your gaze returns back to the stars, Mash’s does not. Her attention sticks on you and your wistful profile.

       “They’re just memories, Mash. The dreams I have are just memories,” You admit though your tone shakes near the end and your eyes burn with the return of tears. Just talking about the matter was enough to almost break you. “But it hurts to remember… It hurts so, so bad.”

       Although your explanation was all too vague and would have had just about anyone attempting to pry for more context, you knew Mash would understand because she was there. She experienced a majority of it save for an event you would never want her to see if she could help it. The insurmountable guilt you felt along with the grief wasn’t anything Mash deserved and in that respect you were almost glad she wasn’t there to see it.

       Your countless regrets and the what if scenarios you made up only added more to your guilt. There were numerous people who have told you nothing was your fault, yet you couldn’t accept it.

       If only you were a better master. If only you made your servants stronger. If only you had finished him off in time. If only, if only, if only.

       It was never ending and these thoughts swirled within your head during the hours you were meant to be asleep. It was no wonder you preferred to busy yourself with other things during those troubled nights.

       Your heart painfully squeezed within your chest and that bitter, empty feeling returned. You could feel bubbles of tears rolling down your cheeks though you did nothing to stop them. You just stood there, staring up at the sea of stars with only the feeling of cruel remorse.

       The feeling of warm arms wrapping around your midsection caught you off guard and it was only until you glanced down at the top of Mash’s head resting against your chest that you realized she had been there all along. Her touch had given you a sense of comfort and it was that sensation of her arms around you that you used as an anchor to bring you back up from the thoughts you were sinking into.

       After your small bout of surprise, you lowered your own arms to wrap around her form before resting your cheek against the crown of her head. Although she liked to proclaim how much you protected her, you thought of the same thing with her. She protected you in her own subtle way.

       Whether she was aware of it or not, right now she was the sole reason you kept going and without her, you weren’t sure where’d you be.

[talk1about7seventeen]

☂ Paradise In Somberville ☂

Summary: Mansions and lore is all ancient history, yet not for the rather faint heart of Virgil who stumbles upon a great secret that may just change his life forever.

Warning: Angsty Virgil, cursing, detailed descriptions of death, violence, talks about violence, mentions and depictions of blood, creepy Remus, uncomfortable situations involving sexual tones, just general vampire stuffs.

Characters: Virgil, Remus, Janus, Roman, Patton, and Logan.

Word Count: 3238

Ship/ Paring: No real ship, just general Remus flirting/ being creepy with Virgil, hints of Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

AU: Vampires! 

Song Inspiration (Author’s Note): I was inspired by two songs: Vampire Banquet - Fox Academy and BERNADETTE - IAMX. This story is generally based off of Diabolik Lovers (Specifically the anime - WOAH, I JUST FOUND OUT IT WAS A VISUAL NOVEL ON THE PLAYSTATION???? WHAT???) because I’ve been watching a lot of it recently ^^ I should probably check the game/ novel to fully understand the story...I bet plenty of fanfics have been made on this topic and this is just for fun so yea! 

I hope you enjoy! ( ◜◡◝ )♡

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Virgil to skip school, especially on gloomy days. It made him want to walk around and explore with his thoughts alone. Today was no exception. He found himself traveling down the same road he always did, enjoying the well needed time to himself. This hour was usually filled with cars, or at the very least animals scattered about. Nothing. Just gloom and quiet; oddly so. It hadn’t really crossed Virgil’s mind. His surroundings were as significant as the millions of other times he made some irrational decision that would shake the course of his day. 

A steady tune played in his ears as he felt like a character in a TV show. “This is the part where something unexpected happens....right?” He commented to the air. Tsk!! “Oh, how scared I am...” His sarcasm was as apparent as the eye roll he gave to absolutely no one. Who knew the reason for his pessimism, or his sour tone. It had become who he presented even alone; his character. Lemons had more of a sweetness to them than he did, and he was aware of that. As the guitar slowly died in his head phones, he felt the vibrations of the road under his feet. This was odd. He wasn’t ever really aware of his surroundings when music was playing but something pulled him from his haze. There was a sound that roared in the distance, probably a car or a truck.

He wouldn’t have cared much normally but it startled him. Besides his own breathing, it was the only sound in the atmosphere. Such a loud contrast to the once silent road. Like a flash of lightning, a beam of sunshine through a window, the only thing in sight....came so fast. The car reared it’s ugly head in view, uncontrollable....untamed. Right at him. 

He felt frozen, anxiety blooming from him like a poisonous plant. Closer....louder....it was angry....the noise! Eyes wide and unprepared for the worst, the horn of the beast ringing out in the air like a siren, a warning call. All of the sudden it came to him in slow motion....the impact. Thankfully, he wasn’t hit face on by the car, only getting clipped in the side. This was enough to send him crashing down to the ground behind him....or...where there should have been flat ground. Instead, Virgil found himself tumbling backwards down a steep slope on the side of the road. 

Every hit to the uneven ground made him let out a groan and shaky breath until he landed on something flat. The ground was so much kinder to him once he stopped rolling. His hand was missing his phone, and the head phones once placed in his ears were suddenly ripped out on the way down to....wherever he was. Laying on his back, he stared at the gloom, the sky. The deep trees like hands reaching out for it. Virgil felt numb emotionally, the anxiety had turned to acceptance....this was how he would die. It made sense. The miserable would find misery. He just had wished someone could have found him before hand. Maybe then he could have made it out with only a few broken bones. 

His lips pressed into a hard line as he pictured all that would occur after this. He would decay here, his flesh peeled off of his bones by the vultures, devoured by the maggots. Maybe he would end up on Buzzfeed Unsolved. He could see the headlines now.....

18 year old boy, found dead in the woods. Was it murder? Here, we will uncover the tale of Virgil, the boy who probably deserved it in the end.

To be fair, only Virgil would classify himself that way. He breathed in once, the knot in his chest ever present. As he began to breathe out for what he imagined would be the last time, he heard a twig snap. His eyes shot open and the anxiety turned into agony. Tears instantly streamed down his face. This was really over.....the man who drove that death machine had found him, didn’t he? Coming to finish the job...

There was a voice but not soon enough spoken. Just as the person was about to say something....anything, Virgil blacked out.

---

“Logan! We have to do something!!”

“Quiet yourself, it doesn’t do any good to shout.”

“Nerd over here is right, Pat. Shut your fucking mouth, babe!”

“Remus! This isn’t helpful, I---oh...”

Virgil began to regain consciousness. His head was spinning and it was surely the people....whoever was around him’s fault. People.....wait...

He sat up faster than he should have because a sharp pain coursed through his lower torso. “Fuck!” He groaned, cupping his side. No one moved in the room and he could feel multiple eyes on him. “Where....” Looking up, his eyes focused on the figures in front of him, now clearer than what his vision had been before. In the room were five other people. The tallest was a lean man with glasses pressed against the bridge of his nose. He looked calculated, smart...it was probably just the glasses though. Or his uncanny expression that looked like he hadn’t slept in months. Virgil knew what that was like, being an insomniac and all. His hair was black and slicked back neatly. He wore more dressed up attire, including a button up shirt which was a dark blue, almost navy and dress pants. He had a vest on that was black, matching the pants he wore, but his eyes....were blue...deeply so. The kind of blue Virgil hadn’t ever seen in eyes before. It was beautiful....alluring. 

The second tallest was also fairly lean, yet he had broader shoulders. His appearance almost made Virgil jump. One side of his face was scarred completely. Something you might only see in comics. He dawned a hat and dressed similarly to the blue eyed man on the other side of the room, yet not as neat. There was a kind of ruggedness to him that made him stand out from the others. His eyes were also oddly bright, taking the form of a yellow hue with a lime green around the iris. Little blonde hairs poked out of his hat almost like bangs. The man looked Virgil up and down and turned to the others, presumably looking for some kind of reaction. 

“Are you going to say anything?” One chimed in. His voice was the equivalent of a broken vinyl on a record player. Virgil nodded, recognizing him as the third voice to speak when he was waking up initially. He was drastically different from the first two, standing at the third tallest next to another man who had the exact same face as him. He was a twin. His clothes were torn and stuck to him like a death threat on the front of a door. What seemed to be a repeating theme was the man’s scattered aesthetic, likewise, his hair was unkempt and silver in color. There were bandages on his right eye, covering what lay underneath. The eye that did show was wild...it had seen murder, or at least that’s the only comparison Virgil could give to how the man looked at him....as if he were prey and he, a hunter. They were green, like a vile of chemicals. 

“Speak then, bitch!” He growled. “Remus!” The smallest boy exclaimed. Remus was his name....he recalled hearing it when he awoke. Out of all of them there, the first voice seemed less threatening, soft even. He had light hair, almost peach looking and it curled freely around his softly framed face. He had the softest features out of all. The rest of the group were so jagged. His eyes were a light blue, almost white. 

“I....” Virgil tried to speak but the words got caught in his throat. “Stop, you’re scaring him!” The soft one spoke again, looking agitated at Remus who crossed his arms in response. The tallest walked up to Virgil with such a stride that would reveal confidence. The man grabbed the sides of Virgil’s chin and turned his face, letting go after a moment of calculation. “How do you feel?” His tone was cold. “Uhm....I---OW! FUCK!” He grasped his side as the pain started to set in. “Where...am I?” 

“My apologies, I am Logan Sanders. You are currently residing in the Somberville Mansion.” Logan looked Virgil dead in the eyes, his almost emotionless nature almost...frightening. “Mansion!?” Remus snickered at the confused boy’s reactions. “Welcome~” He said sensually. “You aren’t helping!” Said his twin. Virgil looked over Logan’s shoulder to see a boy who he would have expected to mirror the dumpster fire of a person but no...he was greeted to a regal, dare even say, royal man. His hair was also silver, but less of an ash color and more of a pearl shade. The beautiful stranger was wearing an eye patch on his left eye which was embellished with red roses and rubies. And oh, his eyes....an orange and red mixture like fire blazing right through him. The passion in his eyes was that only read in stories. “Roman, Remus, leave at once.” Logan ordered, not looking away from Virgil. Roman....that was his name. 

“What is your name?” He asked as the two now out of sight. “Virgil...” The smallest boy came up to the table he laid on. “Hi! I’m Patton! A pleasure to meet you.” He smiled widely. His teeth looked almost like they had fangs. “I really did hit my head hard, didn’t I?” Virgil asked out loud, receiving a small giggle from Patton. “You smell,” He inhaled. “Amazing!” 

Virgil looked down at his now ripped attire, sniffing in the scent. “If you like muddled cologne---uh---sure..” Logan finally turned to the last person in the room and muttered something Virgil couldn’t really hear. “Do you guys have a phone I could use?” The room he was in was decorated accordingly to how each person dressed. It was polished, almost Victorian, with a fireplace in the corner which was surrounded by bookshelves that held knowledge unbeknownst to outsiders. “Don’t think so. But trust me,” Patton cupped Virgil’s hands in his palms and looked into his eyes with the utmost optimism. “You’re in good hands.” His cheerful giggle rang out into the air once more. “I think I dropped my phone somewhere in the woods....if I could just get to that, I---” 

“No worries, we already got it covered.” The yellow eyed person said, handing him over his phone. The screen was damaged which was no surprise. Virgil sighed. “Thanks...” Patton let go of Virgil’s hand “Great job, Janus!” 

“If you follow me, we can get you proper clothing and make sure you’re seen off momentarily back to your home.” Logan walked up to the dark oak double doors with golden handles, pulling it gently and moving through. “C’mon, cutie!” Patton beckoned him out of the room.

---

If not for the fact that he was being directed into different hallways, up different staircases, he could have gotten lost. They weren’t kidding when they called this place a mansion. They finally came upon a door that opened up to a room with a plush bed, a vanity, and a large wardrobe and other objects that Virgil doubted were considered an necessity. It was all fully furnished and it looked expensive. “I hope you find the selection most suitable. We’ll leave you here to change. Come out when you’re finished.” And with that, Logan closed the door behind him leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts. Though, his thoughts were anything close to what he wanted to be alone with. He didn’t know these people which would normally spike his nerves. Yet, these people were somehow inviting despite their intense appearance. Even if not, they were all he had at the moment. He didn’t know where he was and his phone was busted. The five people in this crazy maze of a house was the ticket to his survival. If he didn’t die out in those woods, he was certain he wasn’t going to die now. Not like this anyways. Not with his fresh wounds. He couldn’t get away even if someone was chasing him. There was no telling the condition his legs were in let alone his entire body. The risk was too great. He was forced to blindly trust these people. So far they had been seemingly kind. But that was only now. What about later? Especially with that Remus guy....he looked like a wild cat ready to pounce. Virgil didn’t trust the blood lust in his eyes. But he was safe for now. In a room. Alone with his thoughts.

Might as well find something to wear. There wasn’t any more time left to waste. The sooner Virgil could get out, the later he could contemplate and better yet, process everything that was happening. He opened the large wardrobe and gulped. Clothes sat untouched of the finest material. Skimming his hands over a blouse, he gasped. This thing had to be a couple hundred dollars at least. This was definitely out of his comfort level, but this may be the only time he could feel and look expensive. He chose a long sleeved blouse that was white and shined under the light. It was cut into a V shape at his neck, exposing some of his chest. The sleeves fanned out at the forearms and tightened around his wrists, a part of the shirt covering the back of his hand. The shirt went along with a set of black pants which weren’t ripped unlike what he normally wore. Lastly, the shoes were black and had a slight heel on the bottom. Walking away from the wardrobe he got a good look at himself in a full-body mirror that sat next to a window. Outside of the window shown the sky darkening as rain came falling down from the sky. He had to get out of here. 

“Uh....Logan?” Virgil called, leaning on the bedroom door. The door swung open and instead of Logan and Patton was Remus. “Oh...uh...” He began to stammer. “I think Logan was supposed to be out---”

“What do you get out of teasing me like this?” Remus glowered. “What--?” The man took a step forward, causing Virgil to take one back. “You’re smell so....addictive, my pet~” He began to walk backwards until he hit the bed behind him, falling onto it. With a quick motion, Remus jumped on top of Virgil, straddling him. “Dude, what the fuck!?!?!” The bigger man placed a hand forcefully on Virgil’s lips. “Shhhhh.....shhh....” He cooed. “You can’t wear such a....revealing piece of clothing....” Remus leaned down to Virgil’s ear and took in a deep breath. “Delicious....I’ll take immense pleasure in you...” For a quick moment, Virgil looked into Remus’ eyes and saw death in the face. Panic....nothing but panic! Thoughts flooded into his head like a cry for help. Please!!!! It can’t end like this. Then suddenly, a strike, almost like a needle, dug into Virgil’s exposed skin. He let out a yelp, trying to make any sound he could to grab someone’s attention, anyone! He felt a sucking sensation which burned the side of his neck. Remus lifted his head, blood trickling down his lips and exposed teeth. They were sharp.

“REMUS!!!” Patton gasped. The man groaned and got off of Virgil, cursing under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Vir---!” Patton tried to say and caught a sight of Virgil’s neck. Patton went and yelled for someone but Virgil wasn’t sure who because he felt his vision fade and his consciousness leave him.

---

He awoke to sun in his window. Virgil sat up and laughed to himself. What an odd dream he had. There was pain....and a hot mystery man...and vampires....but it was all a dream...it was all---

“Good morning!” Patton cheered. “It....it wasn’t fake!?” 

“Clearly not.” Logan readjusted his glasses. “Since Remus was, for lack of better words, crudely inappropriate last night, it has come to my attention that you know about him, about us. And knowing our secret, we cannot permit you to leave Somberville.” Virgil’s eyes widened, tears starting to form. “I-I--no! I need to get out of here! I have a family! Friends! I---can’t be here!” 

Patton turned away, too solemn to look Virgil in the eyes. “I do not blame you for his....mistake.” Logan’s words cut like a knife as he glared towards Remus who was unphased by this. “However, you must pay the consequences for such. We can do one of two things, make the public presume you dead,” he paused. “Or, we can come up with a more....kind explanation to your sudden disappearance.” 

“We’ll let you decide, of course.” Patton said, his once cheery voice now as gloom as yesterday’s sky. “Let us know in exactly fourty-eight hours.” Logan checked his watch and with a small nod, exited the room. “It’ll be....okay...you’re in good hands...” Patton tried to be optimistic as he once was, but nothing could shake the emotion that coated his voice. Janus pulled Remus out of the room, too cautious to leave Virgil and him alone again. Virgil wiped the tears that poured down his cheeks. A figure sat down on the side of the bed, sinking into the plush mattress. It was Roman.

“Uh...I’m sorry about my, rather ignorant brother. He was dropped on his head as a kid.” Virgil let out a small chuckle. “No kidding....soo...you guys..are--” 

“Yea...” Roman sounded sympathetic for the boy who wasn’t quite sure if he was just a boy anymore. Virgil rubbed against the side of his neck, pressing against the bite marks that remained from Remus. “I don’t think I ever introduced myself. I’m Roman, pleasure to make your acquaintance....though I wished on different circumstances.” He held out a hand. Virgil shook it, making eye contact with the one eye that was showing. There was silence between them now. The breeze drifted into the room and birds began to chirp. Roman wasn’t so scary....not that he expected him to be...but after last night, there’s no saying who could be deceiving Virgil. “Well, I’ll leave you to your own devices. If he ever does anything like this again, call for me. I’ll be your dark prince, always at your service.” He planted a kiss on the knuckles of Virgil’s fingers. He stood up and took a small bow. Virgil felt his cheeks flush. “The rest of us aren’t so bad.” Roman promised. “Hopefully.” Virgil responded, null of hope.

Roman stopped at the door and gave one last nod and vanished out of the room. The sky was shining today. It was warm and glowing. The atmosphere was light and everything they didn’t seem to be. A facade in the form of living. Such a happy place for the name Somberville. But even still, all Virgil could feel was the gloom and the aching of his body and where the bite marks remain....and he was more aware of himself than he ever was before, and afterwards...

[jack-is-lost]

PATCHES & PINS (CH 2)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.   Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC Story is still in progress and updates will be slow Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Chapter one | Currently on Chapter two | Chapter 3 coming soon.

Chapter two

“Stayed up late again, didn’t you?” Jay groaned into the couch cushions as Tyler braced his weight on the back of it to peer down at his gremlin of a sister. “With a sleep schedule like this, you might be able to snag an overnight job at the store.”

Tyler received another mumbling mess for a response, but he knew the telltale answer. It was always the same; ‘Don’t wanna’ or ‘No time’.

“C’mon, Jay,” he shook the couch, the motion of it getting her to roll over at least and look up at him. “You know it’s a good idea. You’ll be turning eighteen soon, and you have no job history under your belt.” 

“Ty…” Jay sighed out, searching for strength. “I know that, of course. It’s just—”

“—No, no, none of the ifs, ands, and buts, Jay.” He cut his sister off, arms crossing. Sometimes it was like Tyler was trying to be the father figure. Not that they were missing one by any means. “It is the summer. A good time to work a temporary job, at least.” Jay sat up and ran fingers through unruly hair, trying to calm it down. “Fine, I’ll walk around a bit and put applications in, okay?” Anything to get you off my ass, Jay added silently. “Head over to the market.” Came the simple reply, but a smile was there nonetheless. They both knew the store was always looking for overnight stockers. It was the job Tyler worked at for the longest time before getting a spot at the town's mechanic shop. “Will do. Now, let me lay here in peace, please, or make a pot of coffee.” Tyler rolled his eyes dramatically but didn’t say anything snide. Instead, he headed for the kitchen to wash the pot out and start a new batch. Their parents wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, both working afternoon shifts, and Jay could lay about till then. “Oh, by the way,” Tyler called out from the kitchen. “I changed the laundry over to the dryer while you were napping.” Jay peered over the couch at the words and into the adjacent room, staring at his back with big eyes. “And you might want to hide your newly bought jeans from mom.” Oh, yeah, he definitely saw the giant tear in the knee. Jay slid down into the cushions face first, groaning once more. 

Shit. . . . “Edgar!” he hollered out while stepping into the comic shop from the cooling night air. A rustling noise, a sound of a box hitting the ground, greeted Jay before a head popped up over the counter. “What’s the deal, man,” Edgar grumbled out before ducking back down. Obviously startled by the sudden outburst and now irritated at picking up inventory from the floor. “The deal?” Jay stopped at the counter, plopping his bag there to unzip it. “You left my ass at the cemetery, and—” he pulled out the jeans, “— my pants tore because of you.” Edgar stood up straight to look at the clothing, quickly noticing a nice long gash in the overall pristine trousers. “I wasn’t wearing them so how is it my fault?”

“Don’t,” Jay glared and was ready to explain the reasoning when Alan walked out from the back. He looked equally exhausted. “I’ll fix them.” He spoke up while coming to a stop next to his brother. “Why? It adds character.” “Shut up, Ed.” Alan grabbed the clothing and slung it over his shoulder. It was clear to him that Jay was avoiding trouble. They looked new, and Alan knew how much their parents were strikingly different. If any of their clothes tore, it was no problem — hardly even noticed by their stoned-out mom and dad. Jay’s parents, however, that was another story. “Thanks, man.” “Wear something more worn out next time,” Edgar muttered while bending down to pick up the box to continue his work. “Next time?” Jay followed the brother along the counter, stepping up behind Edgar as he walked into an aisle. “I’m not doing a ‘next time’.” 

One time was enough. “Look,” the boy turned to face him, a scowl already present, but when wasn't it? “You made it out with no trouble, right? Didn’t get caught, right?” Jay eyed him, not sure where this was going. “...Yeah?” “Then why stop? You need the practice to become a proper hunter.” “Ed—” “—Edgar.” Jay rolled his head along his shoulders, “Point is," he breathed out. "I never wanted to be a hunter.” This made Edgar’s brows lift with speculation. “Then why read so much about monster-bashing?”

“I…” Jay started then shoved his hands into his jacket, turning away, “Forget it. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab my jeans.” He needed a break from these two. Jay headed outside of the establishment, almost scrapping shoulders with a customer while storming out, but he didn't care. It was hard for Jay to explain his mere interest in folklore. It wasn’t to go on make-believe hunting sprees, not at all. Supernatural shit didn’t even exist — it was all made up for entertainment, nothing else. Blindly Jay walked down the boardwalk, heading out toward the shopping district further into town. His gaze was more on the ground or sky than straight ahead of him, asking any deities up there to give him some internal strength. He really needed it. Jay hated job hunting, avoided it even. It was just another group of people calling him female pronouns and using his full name — where legal paperwork spoke volumes over him. And the uniforms — they would no doubt show off what little curves Jay constantly made a point to hide, and he hated it. A bump against his shoulder went unaddressed. Jay could care less and didn’t even look back to apologize. It wasn’t until the person spoke up that he even gave pause. “What?” Jay asked while turning around, catching the sight of a genuine smile. “I said, ‘you look better with no mud’.” It was the guy from the cemetery. ( Marko’s POV )

“Thanks?” the voice was soft, if not a little uneasy. Marko shrugged, “No problem. Where were you headin’?” “Oh,” Marko watched the other turn back toward their previous destination. Off in the distance, the shopping district lit up the night sky. If one squinted, they could even see the big, bold neon sign for the market. “Was about to, um,” Marko lifted his brow while waiting. “Put in an application?” “You don’t seem so sure about that?” He asked while holding back a smirk. “Because I’m not?” Again it was said like a question. “Let me guess,” Marko chuckled. “You’d prefer not to work? What are you, a party animal or something?” That received a good laugh. “Fuck, no. Do I look like a frat boy to you?” Marko took the question like an invitation and openly swept his gaze over the one standing before him. Short hair with the sides faded, a hoodie beneath a jacket — how many layers does one need during summer nights — faded jeans, and sneakers. “Ah, nope.” He popped the ‘P’ sound after a second of staring. “I’d say you look more like a guy who…” he hummed in thought, really trying to find the right words. “—Like someone who’d probably fall asleep at a movie theater?” Marko feigned shock, a hand grabbing at his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” “Nope,” this time he popped the ‘P’ sound. “With all that loud sound effects and shit?” Marko received a nod without hesitation. “Okay,” he drew out the sound, ”How ‘bout horror movies? You cannot tell me you’d sleep through all that noise?” Boring romance movies and dry comedy was one thing, but slasher flicks was another — surely. It took a moment to reply, and Marko watched as the other’s face scrunched up in thought. The answer came in the form of a shrug, “Can’t say I’ve tried that, exactly.” Without a second thought, Marko grabbed the teen’s wrist — like he did last night, and headed in an entirely new direction. “Whoa— whoa, where’s the rush, my dude?” “Child’s Play just came out, and I am taking your ass to the movies.” “You are what?” The voice behind him laughed. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re taking me on a date?” Marko looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “The names Marko.”

( Jay’s POV ) Jay stared at the back of his head while being guided toward The Sash Mill Cinema. Was this normal? Everything felt natural around this guy, and it left Jay feeling a little baffled. Marko didn’t even bat an eye at the lame joke. He didn’t think I was serious about it, did he?  He stood beside the other while Marko paid for tickets. He didn’t even comment about it when the other ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two fat sodas. It wasn’t until they plopped down inside the semi-lit room, waiting for the movie even to start, when Marko spoke up again. He looked completely at home, too, with boots resting upon the seat in front of him. “So, do I get the courtesy of your name too?” “Oh, uh, it’s Jay.” His gaze fell to the popcorn in his lap, where Marko had placed it once sitting down. “I could have pitched in some, y’know?” “Don’t worry about it, man. Besides,” he reached for a handful of popcorn, a boot resituating to lean across the other. “How could I expect a jobless teen to pay for something?” The words didn’t have any heat to them, but Jay still gave a side-eye-glare. “I had some cash on me.” “Then you get to pay for dinner afterwards.” The comeback was quick. Does he even think before speaking, Jay wondered. “If that’s the plan then I hope you dig pizza.” “Pizza’s good, yeah.” Marko agreed as the room around them dimmed, the movie starting. “Shh — don’t want to piss off paid customers.” he snickered. Jay looked around the theater and noticed a handful of people here and there. It wasn’t overly crowded, which was surprising for a Saturday, but still full enough. With that in mind, Jay didn’t make any comments as the screen lit up and began playing, fingers blindly grabbing some popcorn.  It wasn’t even three minutes into the film when Marko chuckled under his breath. Jay glanced at him then back at the screen, trying to figure out how getting shot in the chest was meant to be funny. He didn’t have to wonder long as Marko leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “You’d think he would have ducked after shooting. He did it multiple times before that. And the blood, what did he do? Stick his hand into paint?” Marko leaned away again to sip his soda. Jay smiled a little. He guessed it could be kind of funny when thinking outside of the movie. “Did he just blow up the entire shop by chanting?” “Holy shit, he did!” “Shhh!” A couple a few seats behind them grumbled. Marko simply flipped them off without even looking.  And that’s how the whole film went. Marko, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum as a toy doll went on a murdering spree and Jay, almost choking on popcorn from it all. Not once did he feel bored enough to pass out. . . . As they walked out of the theater, Jay bumped against Marko’s shoulder, glad that their height wasn’t much different. Being short always bugged Jay since most men seemed tall, bulky. It was another image he couldn’t be or attain. The motion of being bumped was answered with an arm draped across Jay’s shoulder. “You didn’t fall asleep even once. I’d say that is a point for me, zero for you.” Marko smirked as they shuffled together near the closest pizza establishment, a little family-owned gig near the theater. “Are we keeping points here, really?” Jay smiled back. “Remind me next time.” Marko chuckled lightly as his hand slid down to give a slap to Jay’s back before dropping altogether. “Oh, next time you say?” he pulled open the door wide enough a family of four could have walked through. “You think you’re lucky enough to get a second date?” Jay rolled his eyes as he stepped inside the shop, the smell of breadsticks and pizza hitting his senses like a brick wall. “Still on about the whole date comment, aren't you?” “I don’t see why not,” he simply said while stopping at the cashier, “Or you saying I’m not hot enough to date?” Again his words held no real malice to them, just a light inquisitive tone. Jay eyed him for a moment before the girl behind the counter spoke up, drawing him to make a decision. At the mention of the buffet being half off, Marko boastfully announced his opinion before already hitting the line of food. It left little room to argue, and Jay paid for the price, pocketing the remaining bills in his back pocket. He grabbed the cups offered by her as she popped her gum. “How’d you snag a hottie like him, gal?” her hand propped up her chin as she leaned against the counter, gaze not even on Jay as she asked. Who, at the pronoun, bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t tell if her words were honest wonderment or layered with less positivity than her brightly colored wristbands. “None of your business.” “Sheesh, snobby much?” She rolled her eyes nice and slow before turning her attention to the staff working in the backroom.  Jay didn’t see a reason to correct her. Not for implying his gender or calling him a snob. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Family, teachers — they all used them. It was an uphill battle that Jay stalled by sitting at the bottom. The Frog brothers were different, and Sam figured it out without any help by tagging along with them. It was a safe little corner for Jay to be in, even if a little crazy. He walked the buffet, grabbing a slice of pepperoni and some garlic sticks, even after Marko grabbed a booth — plate stacked. Jay gradually took his time to pace through the small selection as his eyes wandered over to the curly-haired boy. Not once did he ever mention female nouns the entire night. He, overall, treated Jay like any other dude. Did he know any different? Jay sat down and laughed as Marko bluntly commented on his plate. Apparently, pepperoni was too plain, and Jay needed to live a little and try it with olives. He watched Marko stuff his face and lick salt off fingers, nonplussed by the display of eating, and he couldn’t help but think this guy just didn’t care — didn’t care about Jay’s appearance or title in life. Something that often weighed him down. It was a relief, in a sense — to not care. “C’mon, Jay, seriously try it.”

The pizza drooped in front of his face, and Jay reluctantly leaned forward for a bite. “Fuck—” he wiped at his mouth instantly. “— that is WAY too much jalapeno, man.” Marko laughed at the expression across the teen’s face. “Nah,” he breathed out. “Your tongue is just a fuckin’ wuss, is all.” Jay gulped down his soda before wiping at his mouth again. “Are you sure it isn’t your tongue that has long since left the planet?” What did they do to that pizza? Let it marinate in jalapeno juice? “I can guarantee you that my palate is top-notch.” “Sure, sure.” “Hey,” the girl from before stood by their booth, hand on hip. “We’re closing up in twenty-minutes.” “What time is it?” Jay asked as he looked outside the nearest window, noting that the parking lot was practically empty. Was it that late already? “Almost ten,” she simply stated before openly checking out Marko, gaze fanning over his open black coat that showed a white tank. Not surprisingly, Marko gave her an equal amount of attention with his gaze. Jay stood up, “Think we should head out.” he grabbed the last breadstick and headed for the exit, stepping out into the cooling air. It took another minute before Marko emerged with a cheeky smile, a folded paper between his fingers. “Got her digits, huh?” “Easily,” Marko slid it into his coat pocket. “Must be my charm.” Jay stepped off in the direction of his street. The walk home was going to take a good thirty-minutes, but he didn’t mind. All the walking around kept him in shape. And so what if Marko nabbed the girl’s number. It wasn’t like they were on a serious date — just two guys having a good time, and jealousy was not about to ruin the good mood. “Where are we heading next?” Marko asked while easily getting in step next to Jay. “The boardwalk stays open later during summer hours. I’m sure we can snag a few spots on some rides before they shut down.” Jay kept walking away from the boardwalk, hands in his coat. “I’m heading home.” “Already?” Marko placed a hand on the other's shoulder, causing them both to pause. “The night’s still young.” “My parents will start to worry if I am not back by eleven.” “But you were out roaming the graveyard way past midnight yesterday?” Jay cut his gaze away, fingers fiddling with the seam inside his pocket where a string had come loose months ago. “I snuck out last night to help some friends, is all.” It would be hard to explain everything, wouldn’t it? The valid reason he was out there among tombstones. Even if Jay explained it, what would stop Marko from instantly labeling him off as a weirdo? “Besides,” Jay spoke up before Marko could ask for further details. “Why were you even out there? Are you a grave robber or something?” He didn’t know anything about this guy, not really.

Marko must have noticed the way Jay’s tone had shifted, and the uneasy tension was back. He placed his hands up in the way of surrender, pale fingers a stark difference to the gloves covering everything else. “No grave robbing by my hands, promise.” They stared at one another for a second before Marko’s hands dropped, his voice filling in the thick silence around them. “If you don’t want to elaborate, I get it — all’s good, but let me at least walk you home.” Jay shook his head without even considering the notion. “Just hit me up later or something. I’d rather walk home alone.” “Okay, okay.” Marko stepped away, hands in his own coat and looking relaxed. It seemed like nothing could sour his mood despite how their night was ending. “I’ll chat with you later, Jay.” “Yeah, see ya’.” And Jay turned  around without looking back, bag slung over one shoulder and drawing his hood up. So what if their night ended off on an odd note, and Jay didn’t apply for any jobs? His sneakers scrapped along the cracked pavement, thoughts turning inside his head like a storm. For the most part Jay enjoyed the night. It went from shitty to fun, and that’s what really counts, right? “Tyler is going to be pissed at me.”

[tickly-trashcan]

A Little bit of Writing {Ranpoe}

A/N: Did anyone ask for this? no not really lol I just really love this ship and haven’t seen enough content of them, so i decided to make some! :D I came up with the idea during my morning tea so i was very tired when i wrote this lol, I hope you enjoy~

Summary: Poe is almost finished with his most recent crime novel, but when Ranpo walks in, what lengths will he go to get to read it?

Word Count: 1.3k (under the cut)

Edgar sighed, setting his quill down next to his stack of papers. He drummed his fingers on the table, unable to figure out where next to go with his story. Karl, Edgar’s raccoon, hopped up from the floor and curled up on his shoulder, his fluffy tail brushing his neck gently, making Edgar let out a soft chuckle.

“What do you think Karl? Would the killer just leave the weapon out, or no?” 

Karl merely scratched his nose in response before burying it in Edgar’s locks. Edgar pondered where his story would go next for a few more minutes, before dipping his quill back in the ink and continuing, struck suddenly with inspiration.

It was immediately after, however, that Edogawa Ranpo, his boyfriend, entered the room, a bag of candies in one hand and a small ledger in the other. “I just got the most boring assignment, totally unsuited for me as the ultimate detective,” Ranpo whined, popping one of the pink candies in his mouth before chewing with a pout in his lip. Edgar smiled, waving Ranpo over to the soft armchair next to his desk. 

Ranpo sat down with a loud oof! before cracking open the small book again. “What’s the assignment?” Edgar asked, dotting his sentence before setting his quill down to look at his beloved. 

“It’s a typical homicide, I don’t even need to use my Ultra Deduction to solve it.”

He slunked down in the chair grumpily, arms crossed, tossing another candy into his mouth. Edgar walked over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, smiling broadly. “It’s because you’re so smart, dear, even smarter than me.”

Ranpo uncrossed his arms and smiled back, sitting up to wrap his arms around Edgar’s shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss, making Edgar practically melt into a puddle.

“Ah! By the way,” Ranpo said suddenly, pulling away slightly, startling Edgar.

“How’s your novel going? Can I read it yet?”

Edgar gently lifted his arms and pushed Ranpo away, blushing slightly. “I-It’s not done yet, and you can’t read it until it is!” 

Ranpo pouted again, setting down his bag of precious candies and his ledger, and standing himself.

“I want to read it. I wanna see if I can solve the murder! I bet I can~” Ranpo bragged, waving one hand around nonchalantly as he walked over towards Edgar’s desk. 

“Not yet!” he exclaimed, quickly dashing over towards the desk and grabbing the papers, holding them close to his chest. “It’s almost finished, please just give me a bit more time!”

Ranpo smirked, reaching after Edgar’s papers, to which Edgar quickly flinched away.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Edgar bolted, right towards the door leading outside his office. But Ranpo was quicker. He ran in front of the door and held out his arms, attempting to capture his much taller lover in a hug. Edgar squeaked, avoiding Ranpo’s grasp and running back towards his desk with Ranpo hot on his tail. They ran around in circles, but Ranpo eventually managed to hug Edgar from behind, his hands waving around randomly trying to grab at the papers

“Come onnnnnnn, just a peek? I’m sure it’s great!” Ranpo pleaded, his hands continuing to grab around until his hands landed on Edgar’s side, making Edgar let out a sudden, unexpected squeak. 

Edgar turned his head towards Ranpo fearfully, who stared back up at him, blank-faced. He looked towards Edgar’s side, then back up at Edgar’s eyes that showed slightly under his long bangs, an evil grin creeping up his face. 

“Please no, anything but that,” Edgar begged, squirming and trying to get out of Ranpo’s grasp, but Ranpo only cocked his head innocently.

“Anything but what?”

Edgar blushed furiously, silently glad that his bangs covered a majority of his face. He had seen Ranpo tickle other agency members such as Atsushi whenever he had popped in and he had just hoped he would never fall victim to it as well. But here he was, completely at the mercy of his petite boyfriend who desperately wanted to read his almost-finished novel. 

“Anything but the… the t-t...tickleeheehee!” Edgar giggled, immediately crumpling as Ranpo softly dug his fingers into his sides. 

“The tickling? Oh, you mean this? I had no idea!” Ranpo teased, vibrating his fingers against Edgar’s tummy, making him squeal and curl over even more.

“P-Plehehehease! Not thehehehere!” Edgar laughed, struggling weakly against Ranpo’s surprisingly strong grip. 

“But I just started! Besides, I think you know exactly how to make it stop~” Ranpo cooed, raising his fingers up to his ribs. Edgar let out a loud yell and laughed loudly, the sounds coming from him being louder than Ranpo had ever heard his normally quiet and shy boyfriend make. It filled Ranpo with tingles, making him smile and chuckle along with Edgar. 

“Tell me, does it tickle more here,” Ranpo drummed his fingers along Edgar’s upper ribs, making him shriek, “or here?” his other hand lowered and squeezed Edgar’s hip, making him curl away from the hand and a flood of laughter following.

Edgar shook his head, his bangs flying out of the way to show that tears of mirth were beginning to prick the corners of his eyes as he continued to weakly clutch his novel. Ranpo drew his fingers quickly up under Edgar’s arms, causing him to let out a loud yelp and drop his novel, desperate to cover up the tickly sensations. 

“Juhuhuhuhust read it! Plehehease no mohohore! It tihihickles!” Edgar gasped, surrendering and grabbing at Ranpo’s wrists as he continued to tickle him, sinking to the floor.

Ranpo only grinned, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss against Edgar’s cheek. “I’ll read it when you’re done, you’re way too cute right now.” 

Edgar just about died right there. His cheeks flushed a bright red and he went to cover his face, leaving his whole torso completely vulnerable. 

“Oh come on, I wanna see your cute face, don’t cover it up!” Ranpo quipped, drilling his fingers gently under Edgar’s arms. He let out a shriek, unlike any other noise he had made before which startled Ranpo slightly but didn’t make him back down as he continued to press his fingers into Edgar’s worst spot.

Edgar’s laughter soon went silent, one hand pushing at Ranpo weakly as the other covered his face as much as it could. 

Ranpo smiled softly, retracting his fingers and softly hugging Edgar who greedily breathed in as much air as he could. He peppered him with kisses as he recovered from the brutal attack, Karl coming over to give him a few sympathy licks as well, making him giggle again.

“I should do that again sometime, you’re adorable when you laugh like that.”

Edgar blushed, covering his face and pushing Ranpo away. “I-I’m not adorable! I’m very- ah! Ahahahaha noooooo!” Edgar squealed as Ranpo’s hands found their way under his arms again.

“Hmm? What was that? Disagreeing with the Ultimate Detective? You know everything I say is basically law, Eddie~”

Edgar squeaked at the sudden nickname, pushing desperately at Ranpo as he laughed helplessly, throwing his head from side to side. 

“I’m adohohohorable! Ehehehehee I’m adorableeeee!” Edgar practically screeched as Ranpo began to vibrate his fingers under his arms, squirming around as much as he could.

“Good! Glad we agree!” Ranpo pulled his arms away and planted a quick kiss on Edgar’s sweaty forehead, sitting up crisscross as Edgar slowly recovered from the vicious attack, chest heaving. 

“A-Are you going to read the novel at all?” Edgar asked, slowly sitting up next to Ranpo.

He thought for a moment but shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll let you finish it. It was more rewarding getting to see you laugh like that,” Ranpo said, smiling.

Edgar blushed and looked away, picking up his novel and Karl before setting the papers down on his desk and turning to Ranpo. He looked up at him with a smile before standing as well, still barely meeting Edgar’s chest in height. He reached his arms up and pouted, making Edgar chuckle as he leaned down to give Ranpo a kiss.

Ranpo smiled when Edgar finally pulled away, trotting over to the desk.

“Now where are the snacks?”

[notgonnarememberthis]

Through the Valley - Chapter One

IT’S FINALLY HERE. The long awaited murder family au that I promised back in February is finally in motion. This chapter takes place seven months after Jessica killed Endicott and from here we’re completely throwing out the canon arc of season 2. This is the direct response to my first fic of the series Playtime’s Over, which acts as a prologue to this AU. I will be linking that just below. I hope y’all enjoy this first chapter and I’m so excited to jump into this new story with y’all.

Playtime’s Over

It’s been seven months since Endicott died, since Jessica killed him. She thought it was over. She knows it isn’t.

It had been seven months. Seven months since Gil was stabbed, seven months since her family was irreparably torn to shreds, seven months since Nicolas Endicott died.

Since Jessica killed him.

Her life settles back into normal with far too much ease. She takes the role as Gil’s caretaker, nursing him back from his injury. He stays with her longer than either of them expected. Ainsley moves back in after the incident. If she suspects anything, she doesn’t tip her hand.

Jessica taught her far too well to give away information too carelessly.

Malcolm, however.

He’s absolutely beside himself. The longer time stretches, the longer they go without hearing from a dead man. The more it hurts him. The more she hurts him.

She wonders when is the last time he had slept for more than 2 hour increments. He hasn’t sat down and had a proper meal with them since. She doubts he’s feeding himself properly. If hearing from Gil is any indication, he’s just as bad at work too. Falling asleep on the job, springing up in a terror, excessive use of his favorite phrase I’m fine.

Guilt gnaws at her stomach every time she looks at him.

She arrives at the hospital again, hours after. Eyes more vacant than when she left.

It changes the second Ainsley crashes into her arms. “Mom, thank god.” She returns the hug, squeezing her daughter close with all her might. Knowing she’s safe, that they both are safe. It almost loosens the tension in her chest. “Malcolm’s with Gil. He’s ok, surgery had some complications but it’ll just be a longer recovery. He’s going to make it.”

She lets out a breath, at least something is going right. Less so than Adolpho who’s cleaning the house as they speak. Ridding of the blood stained rug before any of them are the wiser. “Thank god.”

“What happened? I thought-” Her voice catches in her throat and Jessica pulls back. Sure enough Ainsley’s bottom lip quivers.

“I was not letting Nicolas Endicott take our family down. Certainly not me.” She strokes her chin with the best comforting grin she can muster. “I kept him busy long enough. I was trying to get authorities there but I couldn’t just reach for a phone.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He got away before I could. I actually believe I managed to scare him.”

Ainsley’s smile tells her enough. She believes the story. Malcolm will be a harder sell. “He’s running?”

“For now.”

“Good. We’ll be ready when he comes back.” She kisses Ainsley on the forehead, the weight of lying to her settling into her bones. He won’t be back. Not now. Not ever.

“Mom.” Malcolm’s voice cuts her spiraling thoughts. He’s wrapping his arms around the both of them before she can even turn to face him. She frees her arm from between them, looping it around his shoulders. She clutches the back of his coat holding both of her children close.

If she’d just been a second too late. If she’d have hesitated.

But she didn’t.

Malcolm breaks the embrace first. Eyes already ablaze with questions. “Where is Endicott?”

It only got worse. Constant questions forcing her to recall the night over and over. Dani, JT, hell even Gil had questioned her when he was finally cleared to return to duty again. All worried about the lingering threat, all more worried about Malcolm unraveling at the seams.

Her fingers hover over the phone. One call.

An anonymous tip. 

This could all be over with. She could end the agony after all this time.

One call.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The knock startles her. She’d been waiting for it, waiting for him. Yet, ever since Endicott she jumps at loud noises. She’s good at masking it, for others. When she’s alone it’s harder. She gets stuck into a whirlpool of thoughts and-

“Gil.” She smiles at him when she opens the door. “I didn’t know you were coming, I would have put on something nicer.”

“You look beautiful, Jess.” Her chest swells with the compliment. They put this on hold while he recovered. Despite the many times she’d helped him up, how many times she fell asleep beside him. They hadn’t moved past the first kiss. God she desperately wanted to move forwards.

“What brings you here unannounced?” She knows exactly why. She’s been waiting for the news to circulate.

“Have you watched Ainsley’s broadcast?”

“No?” She hadn’t. It hurt too much. She tried. Yet the second Ainsley’s face appeared, glee filled eyes and a dazzling smile, she clicked the television off.

She would be happy, Jessica thinks. Happy that the man who haunted her family for the past 7 months is dead. Finally found and free of the fear he carried in his grasp. “Jess,”

“Gil.” She takes a breath. “You found him, didn’t you?”

He nods in confirmation. Jessica wishes she could say she was faking her reaction, exaggerating it somehow. Yet the fear is too real, her relief that the secret is finally out is too real. “A camper called in skeletal remains at a clearing a couple of hours from here. We ran the dental records, they’re a match for Nicholas Endicott.”

“He’s dead.” It’s not a question.

“Yes. I wanted to get the news to you before you saw anything.”

“Thank you, Gil.” It hurts when he looks at her like she’s bound to shatter. His movements are careful when his hands settle on her shoulders. “How’s Malcolm?”

“He’s gonna be ok.” She smiles sadly. That’s not entirely true. They both know it. “He’s relieved. He can finally take a breath for the first time in months.” He won’t. He doesn’t know how to. Gil’s hands run down her arms until he is holding hers. His touch sends a shiver up her spine. “It’s over Jess.”

His words make her breath catch in her throat. For months she’d worried, she paced, sprung up from nightmares. He’d witnessed it all. He pulls her to him, his arms wrapping tightly around her and everything gives. Tears she didn’t know were there slid down her cheeks as she buried her face in his shoulder. 

“It’s over.” He repeats, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. She wants to tell him. She wants to tell him so badly that for her, it will never be over. The smell of smoke lingered on her with every passing breath. His unseeing eyes watched her in every reflection.

As her shoulders shake, Gil holds her tighter. As if trying desperately to hold her together.

And she thinks this could be enough.

[kikovalkiko]

Toxic II (Modern!Ivar X Reader)

A/N: Hi! I never thought there would be anyone that would seriously read the first part! Thank you so much for that and the feedback I got. That means a lot to me! This part is a bit longer than the last. I hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts! 

Warnings: Mafia, spying, angst, talking about death, a soft Ivar

Words: 2k

____________

gif is not mine

____________

POV Y/N:

The hot smoke of my cigarette filled my lungs as I inhaled while the cold morning breeze embraced me. I was standing on my balcony of my apartment. Thoughts still all over the place from the night before. As I watched the sunrise do it’s thing my phone started buzzing.

Did it work? 

Aethelwulf. He held me hostage when my family got killed. He told me it was for a greater purpose. I guess this shithole is what he ment. I didn’t had a choice. 

I tried to ignore the message and put my phone away. My phone started buzzing again.

Meet me at 9 pm at the bar Odin’s Cave.

Even though it was an unknown number I knew it was Ivar. My heart dropped at the thought that he might know about me and Aethelwulf. I immediately started panicking and lit another cigarette to cool myself down but it didn’t really helped.

As I finished my cigarette and ignored the non stop buzzing on my phone, my doorbell started ringing. I got up and went to open. Aethelwulf. 

“A little bird told me that you got invited to a little meeting tonight. Let’s get you ready”, Aethelwulf said. His bodyguards stepped in front of him and grabbed me on each side of my arm, leading me downstairs.

____________

POV Ivar:

I sat there in my office looking at the file my contact man did for me. Her face is so marvellous. I tried to remember every detail he found of her. Her birthday. Her education. Her hobbies. And most importantly her disappearance after the death of her whole family.

The door on my office opened. Hvitserk came in and told me that the driver is downstairs to bring us to the bar. We went down and we set off.

Half an hour later she came into the bar. Hvitserk and I sat in the darkest corner to prevent people hearing what we had to discuss. She looked so wonderful but so frightened. I could see her nervously looking for whoever sent her that message this morning. I could feel her heart stop when her eyes locked in with mine. I gestured her to sit in front of us and her movements followed as if she was in trance. Her eyes never leaving mine.

“I knew you would follow my friendly invitation”, I said when she sat down.

____________

POV Y/N:

I felt like I was frozen. His words hitting me like little knives.

“Guess, I didn’t have a choice, did I?” My hands were cold but sweating. 

“Do you want something to drink?”, Hvitserk asked and I immediately felt more comfortable. He sure is a player but he is lovely. Unlike Ivar.

“Yes, an irish whiskey please.” 

Hvitserk went to the bar to get the drinks. Ivar and I just sat there in silence. His eyes never left me. How can someone be so intimidating?

Hvitserk returned with the drinks and I took a sip right away, hoping that would loosen my body. I looked up at them and both of them kept staring at me.

“So, why did you order me here?”, I spoke softly, trying to break this loud silence. Ivar smirked. 

“I wanted to show you how powerful I am and that you don’t even have to think about lying to me”, he almost whispered. “I know everything about you, Y/N.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. I felt my body tense up.

“Your father was the best man of Ecbert, right?” I nodded, scared of what will follow. “But Ecbert got your family killed after Ecbert found out that your parents wanted to overthrow his reign.” Ivar’s eyes turned dark and I knew that this would not end well.

“Y/N, can you explain to me how you had to watch everyone in your family die when you weren’t even in your village at that time?” My heart dropped. He knew and I already said goodbye to my life in my head. 

“How come you tell us lies?”

“I- I didn’t- It’s not what it looks like. I swear.” I tried to form words to get me out of this shitty situation. I knew I was fucked either way. 

Hvitserk chuckled and playfully hit his brother. “Maybe we should show her what happens when you lie to us.” Ivar looked back at him and started smiling brightly.

“No, please.” I whimpered. I noticed a napkin in front of Ivar and took it. Thank god I always have a pen in my purse, which I took out. The brothers looked at me confused. 

I started to make up a story while I wrote something completely different on the napkin.

Aethelwulf took me hostage and wants me to spy on you. He put a tape recorder on me for this meeting with you. He and his spies are sitting in front of the bar in a black car. I want to help you!

As I continued telling that made-up story I turned the napkin to them. They read it and immediately checked what I wanted to tell them. They looked up at me and I pulled the top of my blouse apart to where you could see the cables. I continued putting my hair behind my ear so they could see the earpiece they put on me. Hoping no one except them sees it.

“And that’s how I watched everything even though I was on the other side if the country. They filmed everything.” I ended my story like that.

Hvitserk and Ivar looked at each other. I could tell they believed me.

“Y/N, why don’t you tell us everything you know about Aethelwulf back at our place?”, Hvitserk asked and Ivar looked at me nodding. I knew they wanted to help me. 

“Tell them yes. Go with them”, Aethelwulf told me through the earpiece. I slowly pointed to my ear, trying to tell them Aethelwulf said something.

“Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”

____________

POV Ivar:

As we arrived at our mansion I got my bodyguards to watch out for any spies. I really wanted to help Y/N break away from Aethelwulf.

We sat in the kitchen of our home and talked. I placed a notebook and a pencil in front of her and wrote out a question while Hvitserk told some stories about our childhood to show Aethelwulf that we trusted her.

Do you need anything from your apartment? We can send some of our men.

Hvitserk continued to talk about how father played with us in the garden.

I got a bag already packed for this. It’s in my bedroom inside my closet. I prepared everything days ago.

“Do you remember that, Ivar? That used to be so fun.” - “Oh yes, I always felt like a normal child with him”, I answered to keep anyone on the other side of Y/N’s earpiece from getting suspicious. 

I read the answer Y/N wrote down, looked up at her and nodded.

“If you excuse me for a second, please. I’ve gotta go to the bathroom”, I said while standing up. Hvitserk and Y/N nodded and kept a conversation rolling.

I went to Ubbe’s room and told him everything. “Go to the isolation room in the basement. There are jammer inside the wall. The connection to her devices will get lost. Then you can take them off and destroy them. I’ll get Hvitserk and go get her stuff”, Ubbe always had the best ideas. We went back as fast as possible.

“Hey Hvitserk, would you mind come with me? I want to get some snacks for us and our lovely guest.” - “Yes sure, see y’all soon.” Hvitserk and Ubbe went outside to the car. 

I looked at Y/N and she was playing with her hands on her lap. I could tell she was scared. Her eyes started tearing up, so I took her hand. She startled at my touch. 

“Y/N, would you like a tour through the mansion?” She nodded and quietly affirmed.

I showed her a few rooms before heading in the basement. I tried to calm her and showing that everything will be fine. She never let go of my hand.

“And this is our playroom. We have a pool table and…”

____________

POV Y/N:

As soon as Ivar opened the door to the playroom, besides where no pool table was, white noise came out of my earpiece and I couldn’t hear Aethelwulf. 

“Can you still hear him?” I shook my head in response. “Good. This is our isolation room. There are jammers in the walls. Every digital connection is now cut off.” Ivar came closer to me. “You can now take them off.”

My eyes started watering in relief. “Thank you”, I sobbed and hugged Ivar. He clearly was shocked but I didn’t care.

Ivar turned around so I could start taking off my clothes. Then we could get rid off the devices. As I stood there only in my lace underwear Ivar turned around without warning.

“That is a very delightful view”, Ivar chuckled when I gasped in shock.

“Sorry. Here take my hoodie.” He took his black hoodie over his shoulders and I felt somewhat disappointed when I saw a T-Shirt still covering his body. 

“Wanted to see something else?”, Ivar asked. Shit, I guess, he caught me looking. “No, I- I didn’t.” I looked away trying to seem unbothered.

“You can stay in my room, I got a big bed. Or you can stay in our guest room.” Is he telling me he wants me to stay with him?

“I think I’ll stay in the guestroom.” - “Alright. Let’s get rid of these, shall we?”

-2 hours later- 

Everything went well. We destroyed the devices and Ubbe and Hvitserk got my bag and even some more stuff from my apartment.

I layed in bed in the guestroom trying to sleep but I had too much on my mind. I had an own bathroom like every bedroom here. Ivar’s room was across from mine. To clear my mind I decided to jump under the shower, that always helps me.

When I got out of the shower I could feel myself getting more relaxed. I wrapped a towel around my body and started brushing my teeth and hair. I looked in the mirror. Now it’s time to finally get some sleep.

“Hello, love”, Ivar sat on top of my bed waiting for me. 

“Gods, Ivar. You scared me.” - “I’m sorry”, he chuckled. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Only ‘dressed’ in my towel I sat next to him. “Yeah, I am. Thank you for helping me. You have no idea for how long he made me his dog.” He smiled at me. Although he is said to be the the most dangerous man in Denmark and possibly in Europe, he is so soft. i never thought that about him until now. I could feel myself get lost in those eyes.

“I really want to kiss you right now, Y/N”, he whispered. My heart started beating fast and I didn’t know how to respond. 

Ivar put his hand on my cheek. “You are so beautiful”, he continued. His hand wandered from my cheek to the back of my head. His touch felt like fire crawling along my skin.

“Can I kiss you?”, he asked, still whispering. I couldn’t make up words but my body made my head nod. 

He pulled my head closer to his but stopped right before his face and put his other hand on the other side of my nape of my neck. I could feel him breathing out on my face. The air tensed up immediately. 

“I wanted to do this since I saw you in that tight black dress at the club last night.” Without losing anymore time his lips crushed hungrily on mine.

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ Let me know if you want to be tagged :-)

[iwritefanficion]

Could you maybe do 35.“You make me feel safe.” with Virgil and reader?

Oh~ I love this! It would be my pleasure, my dear. 

Warning: Panic attack. 

~

Everything was overwhelming. 

He thought he could handle it, he thought he could handle everything. But, he couldn’t. The day had gotten out of hand so quickly, and now he was suffering for it. 

He was curled up in the corner, his body so hot he felt like he was sitting in a furnace. His body was trembling and he couldn’t see anything clearly. He could feel his skin prickling as if being poked with thousands of needles. 

Virgil couldn’t breathe. His throat was constricted as if hands were wrapped it and squeezed hard. Every fibre of his being was filled with dread, almost like he could feel death coming upon him. It swallowed him, engulfed him. He couldn’t escape. 

He just fell further and further into darkness. 

There was only one person that could help, one person he trusted enough to help him. But Virgil couldn’t reach you, he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t move or do anything. 

You were probably busy anyway. He didn’t want to bother you, he didn’t want to bother anyone. He could do this. He could do this alone. He could get through this. 

His heartbeat rang in his ears. It drowned out the rest of the world. It wasn’t comforting, the opposite, in fact. 

His fingers knotted in his hair, the pain from the harsh tugging lost on him. He wanted to scream out but all he could do was cry, the tears clouded any clarity left in his vision. He didn’t even know how loud he was, he couldn’t hear it. 

It was too much. 

~

Virgil hadn’t shown up at your place like he planned to. That was the first indication something was wrong. One thing about Virgil was that he was punctual. He hated being late, it made him… well, anxious. He was disappointing someone, they could think he wasn’t coming, etc. 

You tried calling but got no answer. Texting got nowhere either. That was the second indication something wasn’t right. You knew Virgil didn’t always like talking on the phone, he could say something wrong, he could make a fool of himself. But, he would always respond to texts because he knew what it was like to not be responded to. 

The last indication something was off was that when you knocked on the door of his room, you heard sobbing from inside. 

Panic immediately set in and you checked the door, finding it open. You walked in, scanning the room before your eyes fell on the shaking ball that was your boyfriend in the corner. 

Oh no. 

You were by his side in an instant, sitting down beside him. 

“Virgil- Virgil, can you hear me?” You asked in a whisper, making sure to not be too loud. He didn’t react to loud noises well, you had to speak clear but quietly. You didn’t receive an answer or any kind of physical response. So, no. 

You moved so you were in front of him, putting one hand on his knee just to try and get some response. You needed him to know you were there, that someone was there for him. 

“Who’s there?” He looked up, voice quivering and cracking. Though he looked at you, you knew he couldn’t actually see you. It’s like looking at the eyes of a blind person. 

“Virgil, sweetheart, love of my life, it’s me, Y/N, I’m here,” you smiled at him, remaining calm. You wanted to panic, sure but right now, that’s not what Virgil needed. He needed you to stay calm. 

His eyes squinted as if trying to focus his vision, his voice wavering as he asked in a broken voice, “Y/N?” 

“Hello, darling,” you muttered softly, “you don’t need to speak. Just focus on your breathing, okay?” 

He nodded, the gesture quick as he struggled to take in breaths. You took his hand in yours, letting him know you were there. It was something you had done before, something he was used to. Your lips ghosted over his knuckles. 

“You’re doing so well,” you said in praise, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “I’m so proud of you. You will get through this.” 

It took a minute or so but his breathing became normal, he was still struggling but it was something. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles, giving him more physical adoration. 

“Virgil, can you do something for me?” You asked slowly, “if you can’t, that’s okay. You’re doing a wonderful job. I just want you to listen to my voice. Okay?”

You waited for any response and got a shaky nod. You smiled, knowing that he was doing better. That’s all you could have asked for. 

“I’m going to count to ten. Just focus on my voice and your breathing, okay?” You explained gently, kissing his fingers. 

You got another nod. 

“One,”

His breathing was still rugged. But he was listening. 

“Two,”

The shaking of his body slowed but it didn’t stop completely. 

“Three,”

You paused, watching him. 

“Four,”

You continued counting until you reached ten. By that point, his breathing slowed drastically. His body was still but he looked exhausted. His eyes were closed and his hand tightened around yours. 

“Virge, love, how are you doing? Can you speak?” You questioned, voice delicate and quiet. You didn’t know if it was over, you had to assume it wasn’t. These panic attacks could last for a while and you had no idea how long he was here. 

“Better,” he rasped, throat clearly dry, “thank you.” 

“Darling, can I pick you up? Are you okay with that?” The floor couldn’t be comfortable. He was also probably tired, these attacks took up a lot of energy. You wanted to bring him to his bed. 

He nodded, blinking slowly like he was trying to refocus his eyes. You stood, hooking your arms under his legs and around his back, hoisting him up with little effort. You laid him down on the bed, covering him with a quilted blanket he had on his bed. 

“I’m going to get you some water and some fruit, I’ll be right back,” You pressed a kiss to his sweat-covered forehead. He was always drained after one of his panic attacks, he needed something in his system before he slept. 

You were back within minutes, a glass of water and a bowl of strawberries in your hand. 

“Virge, I’m back,” you called out, making sure not to startle him with anything sudden. Settling down on the bed beside him, you sat him up and let him drink and eat until you knew he had had enough. 

“Thank you,” Virgil murmured softly, snuggling into his bed. Peering through his eyelashes, he gazed up at you. Your hand pet his hair, a small smile tracing your lips. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, my love,” 

You got into bed beside him, draping your arm around his torso and scooching as close as you could. He snuggled into the crook of your neck, curling around your embrace. Kissing his head, you drew small patterns on his back. 

“I hope you know you make me feel safe,” Virgil said quietly after some time had passed. “You make me feel safer than anyone else. I always feel better when you’re around. I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

Your mouth opened in surprise before a smile graced your face. You buried your face into his hair, taking in his scent. “Oh, darling. I’m just glad I help. I love you more than anything.”

~

There we go! I hope this is okay! I’ve never experienced a panic attack before or helped someone through one, so if I got anything wrong or should have added anything, please let me know! 

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Hewwo, I saw the walking in on fem s/o with Zoro and I was wondering if it would be okay to request that with Eustass Kid? Thank you for your time!

Hi anon! Sorry this took me so long, thanks for being patient 💕 for some reason Kid is really hard for me to write, so I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Heavily NSFW:

It was a normal day; nothing noteworthy going on, no passing ships to terrorize, not even inclement weather. All this led to one single truth: Eustass Kid was bored. As it was, he had decided to go find (Name), figuring she’d be able to entertain him somehow. He was her captain, after all, it was practically her job.  You know, when Killer was busy anyway. It was as good an excuse as any to extra spend time with her, not that he needed a reason. What, a guy can’t hang around a girl without an ulterior motive?

No need to mention the butterflies in his stomach every time he was near her. That had absolutely nothing to do with it.

His trip to her room was silent, but as he approached the door, he began to hear strange noises. Were those...moans? A grin spread across his face as he realized what he was hearing, pausing outside her door to listen. His thoughts began to wander, scenarios where he was the one eliciting such a response from her flitting through his head as he leaned against the doorframe with a low groan. Her moans rose in pitch, and he was just contemplating leaving for his own room when he heard it.

“Kid!” came gasping from the other side of the door, startling said man from his lewd thoughts. Snarky grin firmly back in place, he barged inside, slamming the door closed behind him while she shrieked and tried to cover herself. Kid had already seen enough, though, and judging by her nakedness and the egg still vibrating in the sheets next to her, his hunch about her activities had been correct.

“Oi! Knock first! I’m busy!” She screamed at him, face red and huddled in the blanket she’d haphazardly thrown over herself.

“You don’t say? Ya know...I’m pretty sure I heard you call my name, figured you wanted me to come in.” He leered at her, and her eyes widened.

“Th-th-that’s ridiculous! You’re ridiculous!” Kid just stepped closer, deftly moving the blanket aside so he could look at her. She offered no resistance, though crossed her legs and arms in an effort to cover herself, and stared him in the eye as his face neared hers. Their lips were nearly touching, and her head felt cloudy at the proximity. She’d been so close.

“You know what I think?” Kid asked, his hand grazing her body, growing nearer to the apex of her thighs. Her breath quickened, his fingers reached their destination, and she arched into him as he teased her clit. “I think you wanted to be caught, Name.” She let out a small whimper, closing her eyes in pleasure as he ghosted his lips over hers. 

Then all at once he was gone. Her eyes snapped open at the loss of contact, finding him stripping down to nothing. Her eyes scanned his body, quickly landing on his already hard member. She was a bit taken aback, though supposed it wasn’t all that surprising. She glanced at his face, a satisfied grin in place as he watched her examine him. Then Kid extended a finger towards her, curling it back in a “come here” kind of way.

She stood from the bed, and when she reached him he forced her to her knees, a commanding look in his eyes as he did so. She, of course, knew exactly what he wanted without asking, and so wrapped her fingers around his length and slid him into her mouth, going until his cock pressed the back of her throat, then back again. Her hands braced themselves on his thighs as she went again, sucking her cheeks in to run along his length as she sucked him off. His hand fisted itself in her hair, and he showed her the pace he wanted her to go, leaving no room for argument as he looked her in the eye the whole time, enjoying the sounds she made as she deepthroated him.

Kid has no shortage of stamina, and so he let the pleasure build for a while, not allowing her to stop until he began letting out grunts of his own. He pulled her away from him, leaving her gasping and panting for a moment before he directed her back towards her bed.

“Stay on your knees,” Kid commanded, and she listened with a shudder, turned on by what she dubbed his “captain voice”. He settled behind her, hand gripping her ass, spreading her cheeks to give himself better access to her wet pussy. He didn’t waste any time, driving his tongue deep into her folds, probing and sucking at her clit. Her legs shook as she screamed into her pillow, fingers clenching around her sheets as Kid went to town on her pussy, spanking her ass, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her already keyed up body. 

Kid sat back, admiring the wetness dripping down her thigh at his handiwork. Her legs trembled, ass red from where he’d spanked, and he ran a hand over her backside before settling his hips behind hers. He entered her slowly, hand gripping her hip as he slid in completely. Kid reached up to grip her hair, pulling her head up as he rammed into her, slow but steady, preferring power in his thrusts over speed. With every thrust she filled the room with another loud cry, music to his ears. 

As her cries rose in volume, Kid could feel himself getting closer, spurred on by the sounds coming from her mouth, but he wasn’t quite ready to end his fun just yet. He let go of her hair, letting her head fall back onto the pillow as he plunged his hand into the pile of blankets around them. He fished out the vibrator she’d been using before he walked in, still whirring away as she had never turned it off. 

Kid reached around her hip, placing the bullet at her swollen clit, eliciting a scream from the woman in front of him. Her hips bucked, slamming back against him, causing him to let out a grunt. He picked up his pace, keeping the vibrator in place until he felt her walls clench around his cock, and with a few more quick thrusts and a low growl, he came, spilling inside of her. He thrust a few more times, until he was spent, and then pulled out of her, panting.

Kid flopped on the bed beside her, placing his arm behind his head as she collapsed, shaking and panting and physically spent. He glanced over at her, satisfied grin stretched across his lips, and wiped the tears that had fallen due to all the overstimulation. She let out a shaky breath and smiled at him, reaching over and finally turning off her vibrator.

“Ya know, next time all you need to do is ask,” Kid joked. Her only response was to roll her eyes, and he let out a barking laugh.

[lyssismagical]

Darken the Sky, Light up the Moon

Day Three of Whumptober: Delirium 

Read on AO3

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tony demands, glaring at the doctor.

Banner sighs, scrubbing a hand harshly over his tired face. “I’m sorry, Tony. Cho’s done every test in the book and outside the books too. We’ve tried but there’s not much we can tell you. We’ve never had to deal with this before.”

“You’ve never had to deal with a brain injury before?” the billionaire says, voice raising to nearly a shout.

“For one, I’m not that kind of doctor in the first place, but I meant that we haven’t dealt with a brain injury on an enhanced individual before. Peter’s… capabilities are different to anything we’ve worked with before and we haven’t had the chance to properly test everything out yet. I’m not saying we couldn’t, but I just-”

“What do you know?” Tony asks, taking deep breaths to try to stop the panic that’s bubbling inside him. The last thing he needs right now is a panic attack. “All you’re giving me is ifs and maybes. I need something solid.”

Banner moves anxiously to the sink in the room and peels off his gloves. He starts washing his green-tinged hands and sighs again.

“Honestly?” he says. “Not much. Not enough, at least. We’ve seen the Baby Monitor Protocol; we know how it happened. We know he has a brain injury. We have the CT scan and the MRI and everything else to base our assumptions off of. If he were a regular individual, he would’ve been dead already, Tony, so it’s hard to say when he’ll be better.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathes unintelligently in response. His phone rings in his pocket, declining yet another call from Pepper.

Bruce leaves, probably to go check on Peter, who’s still too unstable for any visitors, with a quick suggestion to call Pepper and let her know what’s going on and maybe try to get in touch with Doctor Strange. Cho’s a real doctor, one of the best, but having a sorcerer might give them a little bit more luck with Peter’s state.

“Hey, Pep,” Tony breathes, finding a chair in the waiting room area. “It’s not looking great.”

“What’s going on?” Pepper asks. Tony has trouble thinking he’s the only one who cares about Peter, but Pepper loves the kid to the moon and back, as well.

“TBI,” Tony replies. “He got hurt real bad on patrol and I guess… They’ve done scans, but they don’t know what’s going to happen. They don’t- They can’t even guess.”

Pepper sighs heavily. Morgan’s asking questions and making a lot of noise in the background, but Pepper says she just thinks Peter’s sick.

“He is sick.” Tony runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “He might- They’re not even sure if he’ll wake up or not. All they know is if he didn’t have his healing, he would’ve died.”

“But he does have his healing, Tony. He’s been through a lot; this isn’t what’s going to take him down.”

“A bullet went into his fucking skull,” Tony spits, more angrily than he should. He knows Pepper’s just trying to help, but she doesn’t get it. She didn’t watch the bullet. “A few centimeters over and he would’ve died. Not just should’ve. This isn’t- this isn’t just a few broken bones or a stab wound. This is- He has a traumatic brain injury, Pepper. This isn’t-”

Pepper shushes Morgan gently. “Tony, I know, take a deep breath. I know this is scary, but Peter’s a strong kid-”

“Kid, Pepper, key word there. He’s a kid. A child. And he’s- they had to take a bullet out of his fucking head-”

“I know, I know, honey. I’m sorry.”

Tony huffs, sliding a hand over his face, scared to find tears all down his cheeks, he hadn’t even realized he was crying.

“Take care of Morgan for me?”

“Of course, Tony. Update us when you can.”

*

Tony’s finally been allowed to sit at Peter’s hospital bedside. It’s not much better than sitting in the waiting room on an uncomfortable chair – Friday already has a note reminding him to change them into something comfier.

Peter looks young lying in the white sheets, thick bandages wrapped around his forehead. Apparently the external healing is already almost complete, but they’re not even sure he’s capable of the internal healing. And if he is, the process of getting there, might take years of hard work. For the TBI patients Cho’s helped before, sometimes they never get past it.

Research was pretty easy, there’s studies and personal stories all over the internet that Tony’s had a fun (read: awful) time reading through. It scares him that those are some of the things his kid might have to deal with depending on the extent of his healing factor.

Right now, Peter’s on some heavy sedatives and even heavier pain medication. Banner’s busy synthesizing some more that’ll hopefully help him a little bit more than the one’s he’s on now. It doesn’t help as much as it should, but it’s hard to find the balance between an overdose and enough for Peter’s high metabolism.

Peter’s hand is cold in his. That’s one of the only things Tony can think about.

(He can’t think about Peter’s ghostly pale face and his unresponsive corpse-like body. How he’s almost always a restless ball of energy, even in his sleep, but now he’s still. He can’t think about that. He’s too dehydrated to start crying again.)

His hand helps warm Peter’s up and he can almost pretend Peter’s just fine. Almost.

*

Peter wakes up coughing. It startles Tony awake from where’d been dozing in the chair beside the bed.

Tony doesn’t have to think about how Peter’s finally, finally, awake, he just hurries over to the little sink in the room and gets the kid a glass of water to drink.

“Take it slow, kid.”

Peter sips at the water, movements uncoordinated and clumsy. He nearly spills it down the front of his hospital gown but catches himself. Peter’s always been a bit of a klutz, but never this bad. He’s always had his spidey-powers on his side.

When Peter’s done, Tony fusses over him, taking the cup and fluffing the pillows, and checking all of Peter’s IVs.

Peter’s watching him, pupils dilated more than usual and glazed too. Tony suspects it’s the drugs, but then Peter speaks up.

“Ben?” he slurs. “What- What happened? I… the last thing I remember is… is May’s terrible meatloaf…”

Tony flinches hard. That was at least eight years ago, with the five-year gap. Only at least three years ago for Peter, but that’s still a lot of time for him to forget. Peter doesn’t even know Tony; he thinks Tony is Ben.

It’s an impulse decision, it really is, but the last thing Tony wants to do is scare Peter more. So he brushes back Peter’s curls and throws on the gentlest smile he can manage.

“We just got into an accident, Pete,” Tony says, trying his hardest to make sure his voice doesn’t crack. “You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Peter nods a few times, blinking too slowly like he isn’t grasping anything. He probably isn’t.

“You okay?” Tony asks quietly, gently cupping Peter’s soft cheek.

The kid tips his head to the side, glazed eyes struggling to find Tony’s.

“Ben?” he says slowly, like he can’t get control of his tongue. “What- What happened? The last thing- I can’t remember-”

Tony’s heart breaks just a little bit more. “Just an accident, Pete. You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

“Okay,” Peter murmurs. His eyes are closed now, leaning into Tony’s touch. “Loud.”

If it weren’t for Peter’s sensory overloads and Tony’s experience dealing with them, Tony probably wouldn’t have understood.

“Hey, Fri? Could you enable Goodnight Moon Protocol,” Tony murmurs. Immediately, all the lights are dimmed, and external noises are dimmed to nothing. The equipment by Peter’s bed are all quieted, but they can’t be totally silenced.

“What…” Peter starts saying but trails off before he can finish.

“What was that, Pete?” Tony asks.

Peter jolts a little bit, dull eyes struggling to focus again. “What- Ben?”

“Yeah, Pete?”

“Where- Where are we? What… Happened? What happened?”

“Just an accident. You’ll be all better in no time.”

*

“You can’t go in there, Tony,” Banner says, blocking the doorway.

Tony had only been gone for ten minutes, about an hour after Peter had fallen back to sleep. Enough time to have a breakdown and make himself a coffee.

“Why not?” Tony demands, hands clenching around his mug. He sets it down on the windowsill, worried his shaking hands will drop it. And it’s his World’s Best Dad Mug with the boss crossed out and Boss written in Peter’s messy, scrawling handwriting with a stupid little smiley face. And then the Boss is crossed out and Dad is written underneath with another little smile.

“He had a seizure while you were gone,” the doctor replies bluntly. “We’re still stabilizing him.”

Tony’s heart drops. “He- fuck, Bruce. You should’ve seen him. He thought I was his Uncle Ben and he couldn’t- He could only remember things Pre-Spiderbite. I just- I played along. I didn’t want to scare him, but that’s eight years he’s missing. He’s not going to-”

“For all we know, this could be his brain’s way of healing. Amnesia and delirium are both pretty normal with brain injuries. It could be a good sign that he’s having those symptoms. And that he was awake so soon.”

Tony covers his face with his hands, taking a few steadying breaths to try to chase off his tears.

“Be honest with me,” Tony says, keeping his face hidden. “Is he going to be okay? I know you don’t know, but give me your best guess here, doc.”

Bruce sighs. “Cho thinks he’ll be okay, but that the symptoms will last either a long time or forever. I… I’ve had a little bit more experience in Peter’s biological compositions with his metabolism and healing factor while synthesizing his medications, so I might have a little more knowledge than her in that area, but I’d have the best guess as her. I think Peter’s going to pull through. I think he’ll be back on his feet and that this amnesia he’s dealing with is only temporary. I think he’ll be okay, but like Cho said, his symptoms might last a really long time, Tony. The forgetfulness, the confusion, the delirium. Who knows.”

Tony presses his fists into his eyes, shoulders hunching over himself as he continues to struggle to bring his walls up and push his emotions down.

“Doctor Strange is going to be here in a few days’ time, so hopefully he might have a better idea of how Peter’s doing, but for now, he needs you,” Bruce continues. “Whether it’s as Tony or as Uncle Ben or as whoever he needs you to be. I know it’s asking a lot, but I think right now, Peter just needs someone to answer his questions, even if he’s asking the same ones over and over again.”

“I have Morgan,” Tony says, trying to laugh. It comes out forced and hoarse and all wrong. “She’s constantly asking me the same qusestions. I think I’ll have enough patience for Peter.”

The patience isn’t really the issue, it’s whether or not Tony can endure Peter being so lost without breaking in front of him.

*

Peter is unresponsive once he settled after the seizure. His eyes are open, but they’re hazy and dull like he isn’t taking anything in. He’s awake but not really. He might as well be asleep.

Tony takes his hand anyway, sitting in the chair beside his bed. He has a feeling that this chair will become more of a home to him than the cabin at this rate.

“Hey, kiddo. I don’t know how much you’re listening, but if you are, I just wanted you to know I’m here. I’m sorry I left earlier. Just had to get myself a cup of coffee,” Tony says, voice too loud in the silent room except for the steady noises of the machines at Peter’s side. “I… I heard you had a pretty nasty seizure, bud. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, at least for support. I, uh, I’m here now, though. I’m going to keep you safe, okay?”

Peter just blinks slowly at the ceiling in response, fingers twitching in Tony’s strong grip.

It’s weird to know that Peter’s there and awake and alive, but not acting at all like himself. No excited or nervous rambling, no constantly jittery movement, no bright smiles or loud laughter. It’s like he’s not even Peter anymore.

It reminds Tony a little too much of the months after the Snap was reversed. Everything was different, Peter was dealing with the fact that he’d died, Tony nearly died, and May had died during those five years in a car accident. Peter had struggled a lot with his mental health throughout those first few months before he allowed Tony, his friends, and the other remaining Avengers to help him flourish once again.

“I know this is scary, bud, but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll keep you safe. I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said that he’s loved Peter. After the snap was reversed, it was common for them to say I love you, all the time. Goodmorning, I love you. Goodnight, I love you. Goodbye, I love you. It’s less common now, just once a day more or less because it doesn’t need to be verbalized to be known.

“I love you, kiddo. You’ll pull through.”

*

Morgan desperately wants to visit her big brother, promising everything to be allowed to see him. But Tony’s not sure it’s a good idea. It’ll be too hard for Peter’s brain to understand since he can’t remember anything post-spiderbite. And also because Morgan’s not going to understand that Peter’s not going to know who she is.

Tony doesn’t want to put either of his kids through that, so he settles for letting Morgan send them a Get Well Soon card. Drawn in every crayon colour with pictures of sunshine and superheroes.

“Who’s this from?” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Visually, he looks one hundred percent again. He looks healthy and strong, but it’s obvious that he’s not when he asks questions like that. “Who’s Morgan?”

Tony tries to offer a smile, running a hand through Peter’s curls. “She’s family. Distant.”

Surprisingly, Peter just nods and sets the card back on his nightstand, picking up the box of chocolates from Pepper. He pops a caramel one into his mouth with a smile.

“When’s May gonna be here?”

Tony flinches, the loss still sitting heavily on his chest.

“She’s, uh, she’s busy, kid. Sorry. She’s not going to be visiting for a little while. That okay?”

A sad expression crosses Peter’s face, a little confused and dazed like always, but at least he’s present. He looks pained all of a sudden.

“Is Skip visiting?” he asks quietly.

“Do you want him to?” Tony asks. He doesn’t know who Skip is, but if Peter wants to see him, he’d do anything to track him down and get him here.

Peter frowns, shifting uncomfortably. “No, thanks… If that’s okay? I’d rather it just be us and May whenever she can get here.”

“That’s fine, kid. You don’t need to have any visitors if you don’t want any.”

The Get Well Card and the box of chocolates on the nightstand from Pepper and Morgan, the balloons tied to the end of the bed from Happy and Rhodey, the vase of flowers from the Avengers. That’ll have to do.

*

Peter wakes up gasping, tears racing down his pale cheeks, limbs flailing under the hospital sheets, tangled in them.

“Hey, hey, hey, kiddo. It’s okay. You’re in the hospital. You’re okay,” Tony says quickly, hands catching Peter by the elbows to still his movements. Instantly, Peter falls like a marionette into Tony’s chest, heaving for breath.

“I- I dreamt I… I thought I died,” Peter cries, burying his face in Tony’s shirt.

If Tony thought he had any fragments of heart left after the past few days, he might’ve felt them break. Peter did die. Nearly a year ago. And yet, he doesn’t remember it. And Tony won’t remind him. He couldn’t do that to his kid. Not after everything.

There’s a part of amnesia for a superhero that almost seems appealing. Peter can’t remember the majority of grief that’s come out of his life. He can’t remember his uncle’s death, his own death, Tony’s near death, May’s death, the whole ordeal that went down just last summer in Europe. He can’t remember Toomes or Thanos or even Germany.

And maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better that Peter can’t remember all of the shit he’s been through.

On the other hand, though, that means Peter can’t remember any of the good that came out of it either. His little sister, Morgan. Tony adopting Peter officially. Pepper becoming his stepmother. Peter’s acceptance into his dream University. The amazing things he’s done as Spider-Man.

All of that is gone too.

Tony just holds Peter tight and hopes that whatever happens, he’ll be allowed to be at Peter’s side through it.

*

“Peter’s strong enough to do as he pleases,” Bruce says. “I’d suggest daily checkups with me or Cho, but if he wants to move throughout the tower, he can. I’m sure he’s dying to get out of that bed.”

“It’s only been a week, Banner. Don’t you think this is a little soon?” Eight days since Peter got hurt, seven since he woke up. Tony’s barely slept.

Bruce shrugs. “He’s pretty much healed externally. There’s not even a scar. But you’ve seen it. He’s getting irritable and annoyed at being kept in there when he thinks he feels fine.”

“The symptoms are still pretty strong,” Cho adds in, flipping to a page on her clipboard. “I mean, delirium, long-term and short-term memory loss, confusion, irritability, difficulty concentrating, increased sensitivity to light and sound, some slurred speech or slow speech. He’s mentioned some blurry vision issues, ringing in his ears, frequent pain, insomnia, and he’s had three seizures.”

“We’re pretty positive he won’t develop anymore symptoms as he begins to heal, but there’s not much we can do to help him other than keeping him comfortable,” Bruce says with another shrug. “We’ve tried predicting how long all of this will last and we’re hoping it’ll all go away pretty quickly, especially with him dreaming about the time period he’s missing, but we aren’t too sure.”

Tony gives himself thirty seconds of panic, lets it all wash over him for half a minute, before he’s carefully tucking all his emotions away once again.

“Doctor Strange is coming by today. We’ll see what he says, and we’ll work from there.”

Tony didn’t want to say it, but he didn’t want Peter to leave the hospital room because he’s not sure he could explain why Peter’s in the tower without breaking the kid’s brain more.

*

Turns out, Doctor Strange didn’t have much more to offer.

Full of Ifs and Maybes.

Which wasn’t good enough when he’s talking about Tony’s kid. He needs certainty before he makes any decisions.

He can’t risk losing his kid when he only just got him back.

He can’t.

*

Hospitals are weird and warp time.

Tony never has any idea what time of the day, day of the week, week of the month, unless he looks at his watch. He wouldn’t know. The blinds to the window are closed all the time due to Peter’s light sensitivity he’s dealing with. Tony rarely ever leaves Peter’s side, not wanting him to feel alone and small in the unfamiliar hospital room by himself.

The docs bring him and Peter food and coffee whenever they ask for it, always prepared to be a helping hand, and Tony’s become all too familiar with the added couch in the hospital room for naps whenever he gets too tired.

Ever schedule he has is thrown off the charts, but he can’t find it in himself to care. It’s all for Peter. Always. Even if Peter still thinks he’s Ben.

Pepper and Morgan facetime him whenever they both can, whenever Peter’s sleeping and Morgan’s home. A rare occurrence, especially because of Peter’s insomnia and nightmares.

He feels more alone than he should.

He feels like a fraud, pretending to be Peter’s late Uncle.

Lying to the kid about why May can’t visit, playing along with who the Get Well Soon gifts are from, pretending to be someone he’s not.

It’s all wrong and Tony spends about an hour every few days crying in the shower so Peter will never know about the emotional toll this has taken on him.

*

“Can I tell you a secret?” Peter says, out of the blue on one of his Lesser days. The days where he’s less receptive and less aware. His eyes are trained on the TV, but he isn’t taking any of it in.

Tony squeezes Peter’s hand. “Course, bud.”

“I heard you talking the other day,” Peter says, sniffling. He’s gotten a little bit better with his short-term memory. He remembers where he is when he wakes up and he’ll remember why he thinks he’s there, and he can hold conversations for a few minutes now.

“Hm?”

“You were talking to… Morgan and Pepper?” Peter says, confusion and concentration filling his face. “Your wife and child? You’re not Ben, are you? I’m just- my head’s just fucked up isn’t it?”

Tony sighs. “No, I’m not Ben. I’m Tony. You, um, there’s a lot you don’t remember.”

“I dreamt he died last night.” Peter swallows thickly, watery eyes refusing to look at Tony. He pulls his hand away. “Is it true? Did that happen?”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“Could you- I just- I don’t know what to do.” Peter sits up suddenly, nearly hitting his head against Tony’s in his haste to get up. “Can we go outside? Am I allowed to leave? I need some air.”

Tony takes Peter out to the field behind the tower, a ring of trees separating the grassy area from the rest of the city. Peter’s changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and he sits down on the grass, staring blankly at the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

Tony keeps his distance, unsure of where they stand. He knew this would happen eventually; he just couldn’t ever anticipate how Peter would feel about it.

“Is May gone too?” Peter asks, voice breaking.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

It’s silent as they both watch the steady traffic through the trees.

*

It’s been three days since Peter found out Tony was lying. It wasn’t this instant falling into place of all his memories, but he’s been able to see through the cracks sometimes. If he sees something he knows, he’s reminded of some things he’s forgotten.

His short-term memory is definitely on the way to mended. His pain levels are still pretty high, Banner has him on some pretty strong pain meds that don’t make him as drowsy, pill form as well instead of the IV he normally has. Some of his other symptoms have started fading away, but he’s still a little bit more sensitive to light and sound, but they’ve been able to open the blinds for a few hours in the evening without Peter getting a headache. And his concentration is still much lower than it used to be.

Cho says that it’s miraculous that he’s been able to heal as much as he has in only a few short weeks. She says it’s still possible for his symptoms to get worse again, but that he should be okay to be discharged from the hospital by the end of the week. She also says Peter now needs to be incredibly careful not to have any more head injuries as they could be life-threatening, even if it’s just a concussion.

That thought terrifies Tony because concussions were something Peter got regularly while out on patrol.

“It’ll be fine,” Peter says, looking more focused than he has since before The Accident. (Tony hates calling it The Accident for one reason: it wasn’t an accident. Tony’s already found the fucker and he’s locked him away for the rest of his life.)

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to tell you? Not vice versa?” Tony replies, rubbing his thumb over Peter’s knuckles.

The kid grins in response. “Maybe but when have we ever followed the norms, right?”

Tony stares at Peter for a long few seconds, pretending to be exasperated. (In reality, he’s mapping the planes of Peter’s face in his head, making a little note of the thin white scar by Peter’s temple. The little freckles along Peter’s cheekbone that he’s never been close enough to see. The little bits of acne Peter always complained about because his healing never worked on healing his acne; a reminder of the kid Peter is. Too young to be hospitalized for a bullet wound to the skull.)

“Am I Spider-Man?” Peter asks, out of the blue and oblivious to Tony’s gaze. “I kind of thought I was, but now I’m not so sure.”

“You are.”

Peter doesn’t seem surprised by the answer. “It wasn’t a car crash, was it?”

Tony doesn’t answer, but Peter seems to understand.

Before either of them can say anything, Morgan is running full speed into the room and diving onto Peter’s hospital bed with a loud shriek.

“Morgan, inside voice. Petey’s tired and his head hurts,” Pepper chastises gently as she walks in after their daughter. It’s a weird way to put Peter’s real symptoms.

“Petey!” Morgan shouts, hands grabbing onto the front of Peter’s nerdy science t-shirt Tony brought him. She starts rambling about what happened with their imaginary game since Peter was last home. Peter looks lost and confused, but nods along and asks questions as appropriate times, anyways. Forever the people pleaser he is.

“How are you doing, honey?” Pepper asks, carefully tipping Peter’s head up and tutting when she sees the little scar. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, feeling much, much better,” Peter says. It’s the truth but it’s not really the whole truth. “I’m still trying to remember a lot of things, but Tony’s been a lot of help.”

“It’s still weird to hear you calling him Tony,” Pepper says, letting out a little laugh.

The room falls silent as suddenly Peter’s eyes widen and he reflexively pushes Morgan off his lap, glazed eyes unseeing.

To Morgan and Pepper, this is scary, Tony can understand that, but it’s normal now. He’s gotten used to it. It just means Peter’s been triggered by something to remember.

“Petey just needed to check out for a minute,” Tony says, gently shifting Morgan up into Pepper’s arms. He moves diligently to push Peter back onto the bed, lying him down and tucking the blankets around him. It hasn’t been easy, but Peter’s getting better.

“Is he okay?” Morgan asks quietly. Her eyes are wide and filling with tears as she stares down at her brother.

“Yeah, sweetie. He’s fine. Just taking a little nap. He’ll be back with us before you know it.”

And he is. Peter checks in again after only a few minutes, eyes wide and blinking quickly to focus himself again. He looks vaguely confused as Morgan tucks herself into his side, but he slips his hand into Tony’s, a tired smile on his face.

“You ’kay, Mister Stark?”

Tony smiles. “Yeah, Bambi, I’m right here.”

They still have a long way to go, but Peter was lucky. Without his enhanced healing, Tony doesn’t even want to think about what could’ve happened. But Peter’s okay and Tony will help him along, every step of the way. Family.

"Love you," Peter slurs. already drifting off.

"Love you too."

[asthepheonixrises]

After 87 years I finally wrote a thing

This (probably terrible) thing is for @thewintersoldierdisaster because that super super cool person passed the bar exam and I can’t even imagine the amount of hard work it took, and they definitely deserve a pat on the back. Or... a fic in their notifications??

Anyway. This is a Hopper x Reader fic, and the reader happens to be an almost lawyer! (Also pretty gender neutral!) Enjoy!

There was nothing better than coming back home after time spent in the city. You loved the hustle and bustle, but nothing beat the lazy ‘traffic’ that made up Hawkins’ Main Street.

A tired smile made its way to to your face as you made your way onto the porch, Jim’s face appearing behind the front door.

“Finally,” Hopper huffs, closing the door behind you. “It was gettin’ too damn quiet in here without you and the kid.”

You toe your shoes off next to Hopper’s boots, drop your bag beside them; and turn directly into Hopper’s chest, slowly winding your arms around his middle.

“Missed you.” You mumble into his chest, letting our body sag against his much larger frame.

He chuckles, a warm hand rubbing against your back. “How ‘bout we get you some dinner, and into bed early, huh?”

“Mmh, just gon’ stay here.” Jim can barely make out your words, your face is pushed so far into his shirt.

The older man laughs at your response; it was clear he was going to have to move you if he wanted to leave the doorway.

Hopper moves your arms from his waist to his shoulders, bends down and grasps the back of your thighs, causing your knees to give out so he could pick you up.

You let out a quiet sound of surprise, arms tightening around his neck. “Why are we moving?” You pout slightly, but make no effort to get away from the man as he walks through the cabin.

“Gettin you outta these damn work clothes, that’s what I’m doin’.” Jim huffs, setting you down in the bedroom and giving your hips a squeeze.

“How’d you think it went?” He asked quietly, sitting on the end of the bed as you unbuttoned your shirt.

The ‘it’ he was referring to was the bar exam you had taken several hours prior in Indianapolis. You had gone to law school; commuting into the city every week and returning on weekends to spend time with Jim and El, and you had spent the last few months studying non-stop for the bar exam.

You shrugged your shoulders as you tugged your slacks off, letting them fall to the floor with your previously discarded shirt.

“I won’t know for a day or two. I think I did okay, but I don’t know, I mean I could’ve completely failed, i have no idea!” You shove your fingers through your hair, a nervous habit.

“Hey, hey,” Jim leans forward, his large hands finding your hips and pulling you in between his legs. He kisses along your ribs, his hands sliding up and down the backs of your thighs.

“You are the smartest person I know, and you’ve studied so hard for this-“ you make a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt, twisting slightly in his grip.

“Hey-“ his hands raise to your lower back, and press you into his chest. “‘m serious. You’ve worked so damn hard, there’s no way you coulda failed.” He lays a kiss on your breastbone, mustache tickling the delicate skin.

You make a face, winding your arms around his neck once again, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looks up at you, waiting for you to make eye contact.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail.” You whisper, staring at Jim’s left ear.

“You won’t.” He answers immediately.

You roll your eyes, about to protest, but he starts talking before you can argue. “But if you do, and that’s a big if darlin, if you do fail, you’ll just try again. Study more and do more of those practice tests.”

Taking a deep breath, you start to pull away from Jim to continue getting undressed; the comfort of one of his flannel shirts was calling to you.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Jim tightens his arms, creating a cage.

“To get my pajamas on, Jim, lemme go.” You giggle, pushing half heartedly at his broad chest.

“Mmh, I think I can think of something better to do.” Jim teases, his lips grazing your abdomen before he kisses across your belly.

Your hands find their way back to Hopper’s head, fingertips sliding beneath the collar of his shirt.

A loud bang from the front of the house startles you both, Jim’s head snapping to look out into the living room, his entire body drawing taut.

“I’M HOME!” El’s voice carries clearly into the bedroom, making you chuckle into the side of Jim’s head. You kiss his temple quickly, before slipping out of his grip to pull on one of Jim’s flannel shirts and a pair of shorts.

“Did Steve drive you?” Jim raises his voice slightly as he pushes himself off the bed and steps up to you as you’re buttoning your shirt.

“Yes! He took me home first so the pizza is not cold!” El shouts back, and you can hear her getting something out of the refrigerator.

Hopper chuckles as he leans down to kiss your cheek.

“I’m proud of you, darlin’, no matter what happens.”

“Thank you, Hop.” You whisper, smiling up at him.

The three of you spend the evening watching Magnum PI reruns, stuffing yourself full of greasy goodness while Hop grumbles beside you about the inaccuracies.

Three days later, you get a letter in the mail from the Indianapolis Bar Association.

Congratulations is the only thing you manage to read before you’re peeling out of the post office parking lot, most definitely speeding, as you rush to the police station.

Your sudden arrival startles Flo, and scares Callahan so badly he spills his cup of coffee all over his desk; but you pay them no mind as you tear down the hallway to Jim’s office.

You practically slam yourself into the door as you fling it open, the handle bouncing off the wall behind it.

Hopper jerks in his chair, mouth open to ask where the fire (or demogorgon) was, but your best him to the punch.

“I passed the bar.” You whisper, slightly out of breath from your antics.

“Wha-“ Hopper stands up behind his desk, frowning, not having really heard what you said.

“I passed the bar.” You repeat at a normal volume. “I passed the bar!!!” You’re yelling now, but you don’t care.

“Yes!” Hopper claps his hands together as he hurries out from behind his desk, enveloping you in a bear hug before you can even blink.

“I’m so damn proud o’ you, darlin’.” He says into your ear, still hugging you to his body.

“I’m gonna be a lawyer Hop!” You cry, a few tears slipping down your cheeks.

Jim sets you down gently, but doesn’t let you go far. “I can’t wait for you to be kickin ass right here in Hawkins with me, baby.” He grins, swiping a big thumb across your cheek.

You swat at his chest, pretending to glare at him. “I’ve been kicking ass this entire time, Jim Hopper!”

He laughs, tipping his head back before looking back down at you, his eyes sparkling.

“I knew you there was a reason I was keepin’ you around all this time.” He winks comically, a grin breaking out on his face.

“You’re a menace.” You snicker, grinning back at him. “I’ll make a cake to celebrate with tonight after dinner, hows that sound?”

Jim nods, wild grin turning to a soft smile.

“Sounds good to me. El’ll be really excited.”

“About the news, or the cake?” You ask, a laugh escaping you.

He snickers, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Both, but the cake will probably take priority.”

You nod, heading for the door. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You stop in the doorway, smiling back at the most amazing man you’ve met. “Thank you, Hop. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He waves a hand, returning to his desk chair. “You definitely coulda done it with out me, babe, studying just wouldn’t have been as fun.” He grins again, leaning back in the chair and resting his foot over his knee.

You point a finger, scolding him. “A menace, Jim, you’re a menace.”

This is unedited and I read through it maybe once, and it’s the first thing I’ve posted in literally 100 years. I also posted on mobile so it’s probably hella fucky. Apologies.

And babe, I hope it’s okay that I tag you, and dedicate this to you, I just got a writing bug in my ear and felt like I should! So I did lol.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Howling at the Wind

Howling at the Wind - Kidge Month Day 30 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Just some more really dumb, really cute domestic fluff. This time with 100% more Kosmo. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

She groaned and flopped over on to her back, tossing out an arm and grinning a bit when it slapped against another form, dragging a groan out of them. She pushed up before glancing briefly at the clock, startled to see the numbers “9:15” glaring at her. “Did you already go on your walk?” she mumbled softly, carefully pushing herself upright but making sure to keep her voice down. She stole a glance at the foot of the bed and noticed the large, blue lump of fur that was normally there was absent. Kosmo loved sleeping at the foot of their beds; even after walks, he’d come and nestle back down for a good long while.

The lump beside her mumbled something into the comforter that she couldn’t understand, though she did manage to understand “Too bad.”

“Mind repeating that for me?” she asked.

He grumbled, again, and it was just as articulate as his last try.

“Ah, riveting. Now can you maybe try saying it louder for the people in the back?” she teased, reaching over to lightly pinch his side.

He jolted and groaned loudly, lifting his head to pin her with a look. “I said the weather’s too bad,” he groused before they heard a sharp cry on the baby monitor next to the digital clock. They both tensed before slowly looking over at the black screen, a little green light blinking at the top.

She clicked the little ‘View’ button on the top and watched as the screen became illuminated, a little body highlighted in red squirming around in view. She watched as a blurred figure suddenly went flying over the top of the crib. Ah, so Amber was in a feisty mood this morning.

“Do you think that woke her up?” he asked, sounding completely mortified at the prospect.

“Doubtful; you weren’t that loud, Keith,” she scoffed, tossing the covers back and tossing her feet over the side of the bed. She stretched until her back gave a pleasing pop and then stood. Over the monitor, a loud, miserable wail resulted from the infant. “She’s probably just grouchy cause she normally wakes up with you for your walks. Oversleeping can do that to people. I’ll go get her.”

“I guess I’ll go start on some breakfast,” he mumbled as he pushed himself upright as well.

“I want either a smoothie or a coffee, too,” she hummed before heading out and down the hall. She was unsurprised to see Kosmo pacing in front of the baby’s door as her cries grew louder and more frantic. He knew better than to go teleporting in at his own will, though, which she was grateful for. “Aw, you hate when the baby makes sad sounds, don’t you, buddy?” she cooed, reaching out to give his head a quick pat.

He answered her with a low whine and anxious lick at her wrist.

When she pushed the door open, the whole room was cast in the faint blue glow of the nightlight still, and she could see little limbs flailing in the air savagely. “Doing some interpretive dance there, I see,” she mused, noticing Kosmo come darting in alongside her to sniff at the crib frantically. The sound of her voice cut the most recent cry off halfway through.

“Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma,” Amber suddenly shouted, sounding slightly less distressed.

“Yes, that’s right, I’m Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma,” she said, bobbing her head with the syllables as she walked over. In her crib, Amber rolled over on to her side, offering an almost bashful smile and giggle in response. “Oh, you’re cute.” She leaned in and picked her up, holding her close and landing a quick peck to the top of the tot’s head. And then, because she could see how the wolf was shifting anxiously on his paws, she held Amber down so he could get a better sniff at her. She squealed and patted at his muzzle. Seeming to take this as a good sign that she was, in fact, fine, he closed his eyes and wagged his tail for her.

She made quick work of getting her changed into a clean diaper and then made her way out towards the kitchen, Kosmo right on her heels.

“You know,” she trailed as she rounded the corner from the staircase, “I’m starting to think our dog is a little neurotic.”

Keith perked up from where he was putting chopped pieces of fruit into the blender. “Kosmo’s not a dog, Pidge; he’s a wolf,” he corrected bluntly.

“Okay, same difference,” she scoffed just before he turned the blender on. Amber shrieked loudly in delight at the sound of the device running as Pidge buckled her into her booster seat. “Think she can handle some scrambled eggs this morning?”

“Probably,” he said as he finished pouring the smoothies into their respective glasses. He then paused to peer out through the little window above the sink. “Man, it is looking ugly out there.”

“Is it?” she asked, leaning around her own seat to try and peer out the sliding glass doors. She scowled slightly before getting up and moving the blinds to get a better look. “Wow, it’s, like… almost kinda foggy out there.”

“It could be mist,” Keith suggested as he walked over, setting her smoothie down in front of her seat for her. He then paused to lean over and press a kiss to their daughter’s forehead. “Good morning, baby girl.” He hummed, playfully pinching the chub under her little chin. She squealed and squirmed at the attention, making grabby hands at him. Unable to resist, he unbuckled her to scoop her up and snuggle her closer.

“I suppose so. Just means we’ll probably be getting some rain later today,” she said before stepping away to settle back at the table. She paused when she spotted the empty seat and then pinned him with a quirked eyebrow. “Really? After I just buckled her in?”

He offered her a sheepish grin. “She wants to see how Daddy makes his famous scrumptious scrambled eggs,” he tutted before heading to the fridge. Seeming to sense the look of panic of his wife’s face to the prospect of their baby being near hot cooking utensils, he added, “Or, rather, she wants to see what Daddy uses. Once I’m actually cooking, she can go back and maybe have a Mommy milk appetizer.”

While Keith cooked, Pidge settled Amber in her arms to nurse. In the time it took him to get their breakfast put together, the rain had started a downpour outside. She peered outside as Keith reached out to take Amber from her. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there. I don’t blame you for skimping out on the exercise this morning,” she commented, pulling the strap of her breastfeeding tank top back into proper place.

“It obviously wasn’t this bad when I woke up, but it was starting to drizzle. For as much as I like the rain, I’m not going out to run in that. Or taking this itty bitty cutie patootie out in that,” he cooed, reaching over to squeeze one of Amber’s little feet. She giggled at him around her hand, which she’d been using to stuff egg into her mouth. “You are a tiny mess.”

“Want a napkin?” Pidge giggled as she watched them, reaching over and plucking one from the center of the table.

“Thanks,” he laughed, taking it from her. It was a bit of a fight to get Amber’s hand out of her mouth so he could wipe the drool and bits of egg off, but he managed. Just as he finished cleaning her up and moved to grab her little plastic spork, however, the lights flickered and a rumble of thunder loud enough to shake the house halted them.

They watched as Amber’s whole body tensed at the noise, little eyes wide, before they watered and she started to scream in fear.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Pidge cooed, scrambling to unbuckle her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mommy and Daddy are right here, you’re safe.”

Amber shrieked even louder as she was carefully maneuvered out, another slightly less fearsome clap echoing overhead, and burrowed her face into Pidge’s shoulder the minute she could. Kosmo shoved his head up on Pidge’s lap, letting out a loud whine of his own, trying to lick at the toddler’s feet as his own show of comfort. Keith got up and moved over to them, giving Kosmo a quick pat on the head. “It’s okay, buddy. She’s just afraid of the loud storm,” he said, hoping to soothe the wolf. The last thing they needed was both of their beloved small creatures having a fit over the poor weather.

Kosmo blinked at him, golden eyes gleaming as if he understood, before he disappeared in a small, shimmering cloud. Keith and Pidge both blinked, wondering where he’d gone, before they heard loud, angry barking outside. “Um,” she trailed quietly, glancing over towards the sliding glass doors, where she’d pushed the blinds aside.

There, running back and forth like made, teleporting occasionally as well, was Kosmo, barking and snapping at the rain coming down.

“Oh, my God,” Keith breathed quietly.

“He’s barking at the storm for scaring her. He is literally running around out there, screaming at the sky! Like, ‘Hey! Knock it the Hell off! You are scaring my baby!’” Pidge laughed incredulously, gently rubbing their daughter’s back.

He looked from her to the wolf outside. “Oh, my God,” he said, the statement coming out as more of a small laugh of his own.

“Accept the fact that your cosmic wolf is more like a cosmic dog, babe,” she teased, carefully adjusting her grip on Amber as another rumble echoed above them. In response to the thunder, as if now personally offended, Kosmo’s barks grew louder and even more furious.

He let out a small sigh. “Yeah. Okay. Maybe you’re right,” he relented.

“It ain’t a maybe, baby,” she teased, winking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “If you say so,” he mumbled before heading back over and settling into the chair beside her. Amber turned her head to look at him when she heard the chair moving. He offered her a small smile before reaching out to gently wipe the tears off her chubby, red face.

Later on, when the thunder passed, Keith was tasked with drying Kosmo offer before he rubbed his wet dog smell on everything. Neither of them were surprised when, after being deemed safe for the furniture, the wolf curled himself up right against Pidge, letting his head drop into her lap so he could look at the Amber, as if needing to be sure she was still safe. The small tot babbled excitedly at him and squirmed until her Mommy set her on him. She belly flopped into his fur, letting her snuggle into him like a big, fluffy pillow. It didn’t take long before she dozed off and, seeing she was asleep, Kosmo curled a bit more snuggly around her, making sure her little head was still visibly but using his tail to cover her like a makeshift blanket. Pidge smiled and gently scratched behind one of his ears. “Good boy,” she cooed softly.

He blinked up at her before moving to give Amber’s head a little lick, settling in for a nap of his own.

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 4 - Penny Ante

Catch Perfect by George deValier

CHAPTER FOUR

PENNY ANTE: A frivolous, low stakes game.

Berwald was quickly coming to the realisation that he would have to get used to sleepless nights. After spending ten minutes locating his glasses - which he had knocked to the floor in surprise the night before - he pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, fastened his pocket watch, and managed to drag himself from his alcove. Tino's room was empty, and Berwald hoped he hadn't left for school. Seeing Tino in the morning and evening were already the best moments of Berwald's day.

As he walked down the hallway Berwald noticed a previously closed door left open. Curious, he peeked in to see a large bedroom, completely empty except for a twister mat in the middle of the floor. He took a very deep breath, forced himself to keep walking, and tried not to angrily kick the wall.

Berwald headed down the stairs and out onto the front lawn, picking up a few stray empty bottles on his way to the mailbox. The sun already blazed brightly and, combined with the clear sky, promised a hot day ahead. Berwald deposited the bottles into the garbage bin on the curb, retrieved the mail from the box, and was just flicking through it when someone practically jumped in front of him. Berwald looked up and blinked as though he was being blinded.

"Good morning!"

"Uh… mornin.'"

He was smiling cheerfully. He had light brown hair with one untamed curl flying free. He spoke with an Italian accent. He had no pants on. "Did you really move in with Denmark? Wooooow. That's crazy. You're completely crazy. Welcome to the neighbourhood!"

"Uh…"

"I mean really, I thought I knew crazy, but choosing to live with him is a whole new level of crazy, you know? Wow. I mean really. Crazy."

"Uh…"

"What's your name, crazy man?"

Berwald couldn't hold it in. "Y'have no pants on," he blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Pants. Yer… not wearin' any."

The brunet looked down at himself. "Oh, again. I always forget to put them back on after sleeping or showering or having sex."

"Uh…" Why did every person Berwald meet here throw him off guard? And it wasn't just the house, now. It was the entire street.

"So? Your name?" asked the pantless brunet.

"B'rwald."

"Hello Beryl, it's nice to meet you."

"B'rwald," Berwald repeated.

"I heard you the first time. I'm…"

"Feliciano!" A tall, muscular blond man came running across the street with a frown on his face and a sheet in his hand. When he reached Feliciano he threw the sheet around him and tied it forcefully at his waist. "Mein Gott, you stupid Italian, check the list on the door before you go outside. Item three, pants!" The man glared at Berwald. "Who are you?"

"Ludwig, this is Beryl, he's moved in with Denmark," said Feliciano merrily.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Really? Huh. Good luck with that. Come on, Feliciano, you cannot just stand in the street naked. You're turning into Francis."

"Bye Beryl!" Feliciano waved as Ludwig pulled him insistently across the street.

"It's B'rwald," said Berwald again, though he didn't think they heard him. He cleared his throat and looked at his feet, uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed, even though he was now alone. His first suspicions of this street were fast being confirmed. It was not his sort of place.

Berwald headed back inside and threw the mail down on the side table beside the sleeping Greenland and Faeroe. It contained nothing much of interest except for a few white envelopes with the word OVERDUE stamped in big red letters.

Entering the kitchen, Berwald's heart did a familiar little jump. Tino stood at the bench, stirring a mug of coffee, dressed in a startling combination of pink denim, green stripes, and… camo boots. A yellow SpongeBob backpack sat on the counter beside him. Looking up at Berwald, he started to take a step back, but stopped himself at the last moment. Instead, he smiled timidly and held the mug across the counter.

"Milk and sugar? Is that all right? That's how I made it last time, and you liked it, so…"

Berwald didn't mention that he would have liked it made of mud if Tino had handed it to him. He just took the mug, skin burning where their fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Tino reached for another cup and Berwald tried not to be obvious that he couldn't tear his eyes away. Tino emptying a spoonful of coffee into the mug… filling it with boiling water from the jug… brushing the hair from his eyes which seemed even brighter than usual in the light that flooded through the open window... Get yourself together, man. Berwald took a seat on a bench stool and forced his eyes to focus on the counter.

"I think I'm going to need a lot of this today," laughed Tino, replacing the coffee tin on the shelf. "Did you get any sleep?"

Between Denmark and Norway's deafening and, frankly, horrifying vocalisations, and the subsequent screaming fight that had broken out between Norway and Iceland, he'd barely managed to get any. "Little bit," he answered. "You?"

Tino did not have a chance to answer before Denmark practically bounced into the room, an overstuffed backpack thrown over his shoulder with a thick, pink book poking prominently out the top. He was followed by Norway, yawning loudly and looking like he'd had as little sleep as Berwald. He headed straight for the fridge, ignoring Tino's wave of greeting. Denmark, however, grinned manically.

"Good morning, fellow Scandinavians! Isn't this a beautiful dawn? I am so very cheerful and optimistic about the glorious day ahead! Do tell me how you are this very fine Friday morn!"

"I'm exhausted because you and Norway kept me awake all night having obnoxiously loud sex," Tino replied calmly. Berwald nearly choked on his coffee. "I was a bit surprised, really, 'cause normally on Thursdays you're done in like, fifteen minutes."

"What can I say, Norge baby can't get enough of me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Tino." Norway rifled through the fridge then slammed it shut behind him. "As if I'd ever let that bastard touch me."

Denmark stared at the egg in Norway's hand. "Rule number nine, Norway. Does Mr. Egg have a smiley face?"

"Rule number twenty-two, Denmark. Norway is exempt from all of your stupid rules." Norway turned on the frying pan and cracked the smiling egg into it.

"Rule number twenty-two is still pending examination and approval!"

"Okay, then how about rule number twenty-three. Norway does not give a shit." Norway leant on the bench and looked out the window into the backyard. "And you need to mow the back lawn."

Denmark groaned. "But I don't wanna."

"I don't care. It's like Pripyat out there. Deal with it."

"No."

Norway turned slowly, tilted his head, and raised one eyebrow. "Do it or else." His words were like ice.

"Or else what? You'll give me a spanking?" Denmark flashed a toothy grin and Tino made a small noise of disgust.

"You wish, you freak. Do it or I'll…" Norway's eyes fell on the book poking out of Denmark's bag and he made a sudden grab for it. Denmark quickly dodged but it was too late. Norway triumphantly held the book above his head. Berwald blinked at the cover – a tartan-clad warrior with rippling muscles holding a buxom blond by the waist. He missed the title, but caught the word 'Harlequin' stamped above the picture.

"Don't even think about it," Denmark attempted to growl, but just sounded anxious.

"Do it, or so help me, I will ruin the ending of this piece of trash."

Denmark dived for the book but Norway easily sidestepped out of the way. "Don't insult my story! It's shiny, and romantic, and totally hot, and…"

"I've read things on toilet walls with more literary merit," Norway spat disdainfully. Denmark gasped, hand flying to his chest as though he'd been wounded. "Now," continued Norway, "Promise me you'll mow that lawn or I will tell you exactly what happens to Sir Lifts-a-Lot and Maid Mammaries in minute detail."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Norway opened the book and cleared his throat. "The naive yet feisty heroine is rescued from the band of thugs by the gruff yet gentle highlander."

"Haha, I've already read that bit."

"Is this for real?" Norway muttered, skipping forward a few pages and taking a smooth step out of the way when Denmark tried to rush at him. "And then they have… sex, I believe… of some description. Urgh."

Denmark hand flew to his chest, scandalised. "Before they're even married?" He tried again, unsuccessfully, to grasp the book from Norway's hands. "No! Don't tell me! Give me back my story!"

"And then…" Norway skimmed toward the back of the book. "Oh, man, you're not gonna believe this, it turns out…"

Denmark pressed his hands against his ears. "Don't tell me! I'll do it! I'll mow the lawn! Just don't ruin my glittering beautiful Scottish romance!"

Norway's expression remained unchanged but for the subtle triumph in his eyes. He tossed the book at Denmark, who caught it frantically and clutched it to his chest like something precious and fragile. Norway went back to the frying pan, flipped the egg onto a piece of toast, and carried it from the room. "The lawn, Denmark. By this afternoon."

Denmark stroked the book gently. "It's all right, my precious, I won't ever let him near you again."

Berwald glanced sideways at Tino, who just shrugged and stirred his coffee nonchalantly.

"Sweden." Berwald glanced back to find Denmark staring at him intently. "There has been a slight reallocation of duties. Due to your professional qualifications the backyard is now your responsibility. Any objections?"

"Uh…" Berwald looked apprehensively out the window. He hadn't paid much attention to the backyard since he had arrived. Now that he did he saw that it was an unkempt mess, the grass nearly waist high, the small garden plots around the edge of the fence wild and overgrown. It looked like no one had set foot in it for years.

"I know, I know, it's a bit of a mess. Fin tried to start what he claimed was a garden, but apparently no one ever told him that plants need water."

"I always wanted a garden," said Tino absently. "With herbs and flowers. And a swing." He stared dreamily out the window as he spoke. He seemed to have forgotten he was still stirring coffee. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. Once again, Berwald could not tear his eyes away.

Tino wanted a garden. By God, Tino was going to get a garden.

"Sweden!" Denmark barked loudly. "Rule number eleven, Sweden!"

Berwald blinked and hastily looked away. "Uh, yeah, sure. No pr'blem."

"Great, hop to it, Groundskeeper Willy. That lawn needs to be done by this afternoon. Now if you will excuse me, I have… important study… to do." Denmark slowly left the room, caressing the book and muttering something which sounded suspiciously like, Wish Norway was a highlander...

Berwald's eyes immediately gravitated back to Tino, who still gazed obliviously out the window. "It's not that I forgot to water them, I just kept hoping for rain, and drowning would be so awful. And I couldn't decide whether I wanted flowers or herbs, so I planted them both, but the basil didn't get along with the lilies. Then when the roses withered the daisies died of grief. Maybe it was all for the best." He was still stirring his coffee.

"Um... 'kay." Berwald tried to form a response. "Ye're the first Finn I've met that talks more than me."

Tino looked puzzled for a moment before noticing Berwald as though for the first time. Then his eyes lit in understanding and he laughed softly. "You mean at all."

"'xactly."

Tino laughed again. "My dad always said…" He broke off abruptly.

"Why don't ye live with yer parents?" The second he asked it, Berwald could have kicked himself. Why on earth had he asked that at a time like this, a few days after they had first met, on a sunny Friday morning in the kitchen? Then he wondered if there was ever a good time to ask something like that.

Tino just shrugged and looked into his coffee. "They kicked me out. And told me never to come home again."

"Oh." It was strange feeling, to be suddenly so angry at people he had never met. "Why?"

"They walked in on me kissing my best friend…" Tino took a deep breath, "…Eduard." He raised his eyes slowly, hesitantly, as though unsure of Berwald's reaction.

"Oh." Ohhhh… Oh. "Oh," Berwald repeated. A hundred thoughts and feelings attacked him at once. "S'rry."

Tino looked faintly relieved. "It's okay. Really, it is. I'm lucky Ice got me this place to live. And remember I told you, Eduard lives next door, so I have lots of friends around."

Berwald nodded, still trying to digest the knockout information he'd just been given. Tino had been kicked out of home for kissing a boy. A boy who was his best friend. A boy who, apparently, lived right next door.

"Sorry I'm late, Tino." A young blond in glasses walked into the kitchen, a backpack on his shoulder and a laptop case in his hands. "We'd better hurry up if we're wow, he really is scary, isn't he?" The blond stopped short when he noticed Berwald.

"Eduard!" Tino gasped, dismayed.

A boy who was standing in the kitchen before him. Berwald's hands clenched and he almost felt his eyes flash. Eduard took an immediate step backward.

"Okay, I, uh, hi. Nice to meet you. And I'm backing up now." Eduard whispered loudly through the side of his mouth, "Seriously, Tino, come on…"

Tino drained his coffee, picked up his SpongeBob backpack, and smiled awkwardly at Berwald. "Bye, Berwald."

"Bye, Tino," Berwald replied, not taking his eyes from Eduard backing out of the room nervously. He could hear their conversation drifting back as they left the house.

"He's the guy who's moved in here? He's terrifying!"

"Stop it, I don't think he means it. He's actually really nice."

Watching them go, Berwald couldn't help wondering resentfully what sort of relationship Tino and Eduard actually had. They were the same age, they were best friends, they obviously had far more in common than Berwald and Tino ever would. And yet if they were together, that was their business. What right did Berwald have to feel angry or upset about it? It wasn't like he had a shot in hell with Tino, anyway. All he was doing was torturing himself. Berwald sighed, cleaned up the coffee cups and Norway's mess, then headed to get ready for work. He was already late.

.

That evening, Berwald walked home from work to find the street entrance blocked by several cars - including his own – and the sound of raucous cheering erupting from down the road. He could think of only one explanation.

"Denm'rk."

Resigning himself to the worst, Berwald made his way past the parked cars and towards the house. It looked like the entire student population had turned out to stand in excited groups, staring and cheering at some commotion occurring in the middle of the road. A short, strangely familiar man with shaggy yellow hair wandered up and down the side of the street, waving a small notebook and shouting, "Place your bets!" Drawing closer, the crowd parted, and Berwald got his first look at the focus of everyone's attention.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Denmark. In the middle of the road, two men stood in front of two average sized sedans. Berwald recognised Ludwig, the German he'd met briefly earlier; the other man was not familiar - a tall, grinning blond in glasses wearing an American flag t-shirt. Each of them had a makeshift harness around their chest, connected by rope to one of the cars.

Oh, they could not be serious… Was there a single sane person living in this street?!

"My money's on the German." Denmark's voice carried across the lawn as Berwald walked warily towards his four housemates. Tino smiled and waved, but the others ignored him. Denmark clutched a piece of paper and stared at the two contenders intently. "Can't lose."

The crowd grew noisier, cheering and calling for the race to begin. Across the road, Feliciano stood with a group Berwald didn't know, including a white-haired man who shouted encouragement into Ludwig's ear. Next door, Lithuania and Poland watched the proceedings with Eduard. Berwald had to stop his fists clenching into fists at the sight of Tino's 'best friend.'

"Den, is it really a good idea for you to be betting?" Tino's voice brought back Berwald's attention. "How much do you have on this?"

"Like I said, can't lose this one. Look at the muscles on that Kraut!" Denmark shouted, "Oi, Germany, you potato eating bastard! You'd better win this or I'm going Viking on your ass!"

"Screw you, Denmark," Ludwig shouted back.

"No chance, I know what you're into and even Iceland doesn't go for shit that kinky."

"Not cheaply, anyway," said Iceland flatly.

"How did you get Ludwig to agree to this?" asked Norway in a bored tone. He was, as usual, reading a book – Schopenhauer, this time.

"Remember that barbeque the Germans had last week?"

"The one you weren't invited to but jumped the fence and ate their food and drank their beer and got beaten up by the Hungarian girl?"

"Yeah, that one. I bet Germany he couldn't eat ten sausages in sixty seconds. He couldn't, and here we are."

"And Alfred?"

"Asked him if he wanted to tie himself to a car and race a German. And here we are."

"Den, gambling is how you got us into this mess…" Tino started.

Well, that was interesting. Before Berwald could think too deeply on it, the crack of a gunshot ripped through the air. The green-clad referee held a gun above his head. The race had begun. "Too late now!" cried Denmark cheerfully. "Move it, Germany! Kick some American ass!"

Berwald was rather surprised at how fast the two men moved, dragging the cars behind them. They were obviously both incredibly strong. The crowd went wild, whistling and shouting and waving the small pieces of paper in the air frantically. Feliciano was jumping up and down and waving a German flag. The white-haired man kept pace with Ludwig, shouting at him the whole way.

Loud cries of "Come on Alfred!" came from the next house over where three men, all of them blond and one dangerously close to being naked, cheered from the lawn. One of them, a short guy with a tweed suit and massive eyebrows, walked to the finish line and held something aloft. Berwald squinted; it was a hamburger. "Oh, Alfred!" he called seductively. "If you win I'll let you eat this off my..."

"What the hell?" Denmark interrupted, face turning red as he shouted. "What does England think he's doing?"

The bizarre strategy worked. The American, Alfred, picked up in speed and just moments before the line managed to pull in front of Ludwig. He crossed the line to deafening cheers, happily grabbing the burger with one hand and England's waist with the other.

"The American wins!" shouted the referee. He was immediately swamped by half the crowd pushing their pieces of paper at him insistently.

"Cheating! Lies! Subterfuge!" Denmark stormed over to the finish line and practically blew up in the referee's face. "What the HELL was that?! In what race on Earth is it acceptable to use bribery to get your guy over the line?! I request, nay, I DEMAND a rematch!"

"No one said it wasn't in the rules, wanker," said England, a smug grin on his face. "Now pay up, Vash, I had a hundred quid on this." Alfred simply focused on devouring the burger.

"Oh, this is bullshit!" Denmark turned to the white-haired man beside Ludwig. "Prussia, back me up."

"I hate to do it, but I have to agree with Psycho here," said Prussia angrily. "Honestly, Vash, we were not informed we could use these tactics or we would have had Feliciano naked at the finish line waving a wurst in the air."

Denmark threw his hands out. "You see? Give me back my money, Switzerland, this was rigged!"

Switzerland did not look up from taking papers from those around him and checking them against his notebook. Berwald suddenly remembered where he knew him from: Vash, the Rifle, possibly the fairest and most unbiased dealer in the entire underground card circuit. Berwald barely recognised him without the cloud of smoke and the smell of bourbon. "It wasn't rigged. Your guy lost. Deal with it."

Denmark crumpled his paper and threw it to the ground. "This is not over. Oh, this is SO not over!"

Vash turned his back on Denmark as he distributed the winnings amongst the crowd. "Denmark. Take a deep breath, and ask yourself this question. Which one of us is currently in possession of a gun?"

Denmark paused for a moment then stomped on the ground and marched back, leaving Prussia to take over the argument. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

Tino shook his head, glaring at Denmark with a look of frustrated pity. "I told you, Den."

"Great," said Norway, tucking his book into an inner pocket of his corduroy blazer. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any stupider. How much have you lost us now?"

"But that was a sure thing, how the hell did he lose?! Hey Germany, you owe me now. Are you listening? You owe me! And don't think you can get away without paying like you did after 1945!" Ludwig shouted an angry response but Denmark turned his back and ignored him. "Okay, okay, it's all good, I have an idea. Rematch. Can't use the Kraut though. Now let's see…" He paused, turned slowly to Berwald and looked him up and down, excitement dawning in his face.

"No."

Denmark whined. "Come on, Sweden, you're even bigger than that German bastard! You can beat that skinny Yank!"

"No." Berwald looked away and noticed, with a cold jolt of shock, that Ivan had appeared on the next door lawn. He narrowed his eyes and watched as Ivan put an arm around Lithuania and glanced over, smiling smugly. Tino followed Berwald's gaze, and the entire atmosphere shifted. Tino nudged Norway, who elbowed Denmark, who looked from Berwald to the Russian with an almost murderous glare. But the most interesting reaction came from Iceland. A look of pain, sadness, and almost fear passed across his face, and he took a step behind Norway.

"Come on," said Norway quietly. He headed towards the house, his arm reaching for Iceland. Tino followed, but Norway had to bark, "Denmark!" to get the Dane to move. More than happy to leave this uncomfortable situation behind, Berwald trailed after.

They were nearly at the door when Berwald felt a firm, cold hand grasp his arm. He scowled furiously, spun around, and found Ivan Braginski smiling cheerfully, dangerously at him.

"I know your type, Berwald. I know you." The words were a challenge.

Struck still, Berwald silently panicked. His eyes involuntarily flicked towards Tino, paused on the doorstep with the others. But Berwald could play this game, so he kept his face blank, even as he wrenched his arm from Ivan's grip. "Ye know nothin'."

"I know we both live in two worlds. I know you think you can make a clean, honest start. And I know you'll be back." Ivan smirked. "You always come back."

Berwald's jaw clenched so tightly it was painful. Bluff. "Don't know what ye're talkin' 'bout."

"Him?" Ivan nodded at Denmark. "Silly boy. Maniac, who does not know what he is doing." Denmark opened his mouth angrily but Norway silenced him with a look. "But you, Berwald, are a professional. As much as you try to hide it with your nice, normal, respectable job as a… what was it? A cleaner?"

Berwald felt the beginnings of anger in the burning of his neck, the involuntary clenching of his fists. But he could play this game. "Gard'ner."

Ivan snorted. "Of course, a gardener."

"What are ye doin' here?" Berwald leant forward and hissed, hoping he couldn't be heard by those around him. Both his and Ivan's housemates were far too close. "Livin' with these kids, pretendin' ye're normal…"

Ivan laughed outright. "I could ask you the same thing."

Berwald felt a growl rise in his throat. "I'm nothin' like ye."

"Aren't you?" Ivan smiled, and it made Berwald's stomach turn. "I don't think I need to ask what you are doing here." He glanced openly, unmistakably, towards Tino.

Berwald felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Ivan was exceptional at reading people. He hid it behind a smiling face, behind a falsely innocent exterior, but he was not a phenomenal poker player for nothing. Berwald could play this game, but suddenly, it wasn't a game anymore. "Back off, Br'ginski."

Ivan's eyes crinkled in cold, hard amusement. "Do you think he'd look at you twice if he knew who you were?"

Berwald's anger rose higher, heat infusing his cheeks. "I'm warnin' ye." He barely kept his voice controlled; his heart was in his throat, and his veins boiled with rage.

"Criminal." Ivan leant closer, ugly words hot against Berwald's ear. "Do you think he'd blink at you with those big eyes? Smile with those pretty lips?" Berwald was speechless with rage. A vein throbbed dangerously in his temple. Ivan wanted him to react, he was pushing him, but this was…

"You think he'd open those legs for you?"

…too far. Something snapped. Berwald snarled, clenched his hand into a fist, pulled his arm back… He felt it stopped by a strong hand. He turned his head to see Norway gripping his elbow, a warning in his serious eyes.

Awareness slowly seeped into Berwald's brain, until he realised that the entire street had gone silent. Everyone was staring at him. He pulled his arm free, and took a step backwards, the fury in his veins drowning any embarrassment.

Ivan laughed. "Angry boy you've got here. I'd be careful. I don't think even little Ice could handle this one." Ivan smirked at Iceland, hard and cruel, and winked. Iceland fled into the house, Tino following close behind.

Denmark stepped forward, enraged. "I mean it now, you sick bastard, I will rip your…"

"Ivan." Norway's voice was calm, deadly, and it silenced Denmark instantly. He took one step closer to Ivan, levelling a glare that was even more terrifying for its lack of expression. "If you ever, even once, look at my brother like that again – I will kill you. Do not think for one second that I am not serious. Come on, Sweden. Den, move it."

Berwald did not tear his gaze from Ivan's smiling face as he let Norway pull him into the house. His anger refused to subside. Why the hell was Ivan living in this street? Why did those kids live with him? What was going on between him and Iceland? One thing was certain. Ivan did not belong here. But Berwald could not stop the small, nagging voice inside him which whispered, neither do you.

Berwald had taken the job at the university because it was normal. It didn't pay much, but he didn't do it for the money. It was the opposite of everything he was used to, everything he had been involved in for too long. It was a new start, a fresh beginning, a way to put the past behind him.

But Ivan was right. Berwald had not been able to stay away from that life before - how was he supposed to do it now? He could try and run from it, but he would always be a criminal. If Tino knew who he was, he'd want nothing to do with him. Tino should be with someone nice and normal… someone like that Eduard kid. Berwald ignored the way his blood boiled at the thought of it.

Once inside, Norway and Denmark immediately disappeared. Tino and Iceland were nowhere to be seen. Berwald was left standing alone in the front room, slightly disoriented and thrumming with rage.

Greenland looked up from the couch and blinked at him a few times. "Ah. Sweden, right?"

Berwald glanced at him vaguely. "B'rwald."

Greenland waved a hand. "Right, Berwald, right." He stretched and yawned. "Drama on the front lawn, Sweden?"

"Uh… somethin' like that."

"Oh, the never ending Ivan saga." Faeroe sighed, stretching and sending a few empty cans flying to the floor. "This is the only reason I hang around here… better than any soapie, I tell you what."

"What, um…" Berwald felt a little guilty for asking, but he was still so confused right now. "What happened b'tween Ivan'nd Iceland?"

Greenland and Faeroe exchanged a heavy glance. "Really not our place to say," said Faeroe.

"Yeah. We just sleep here," added Greenland.

"You seem angry about something. Everything all right?" asked Faeroe, tilting his head.

Berwald shook his head absently. "It's nothin'."

"Just remember, my friend," said Greenland, "'Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it; you are the one who gets burned.'"

"Yes," said Faeroe, "For 'we are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.*'"

Berwald furrowed his brow, stared at the wall, then nodded tersely. Just when he thought things couldn't get stranger, the guys on the couch start quoting Buddha at him. "'kay. Thanks."

He headed to his alcove. It was small, it was cramped, it was blocked off from the rest of the house by a curtain. But damn it, it was his, and it was one place where he could avoid the entire blasted world. He fell onto his bed, placed his glasses on the side table, and pressed his palms into his tired eyes. Despite everything, he could not shake that feeling. Berwald knew he didn't belong here. He knew he never should have moved in.

But from the second he'd laid eyes on Tino, he knew he didn't have a choice.

.

"Berwald?"

Berwald's eyes shot open at the sound of Tino's voice. He shook himself from his drowsy daze, unsure how long he'd been drifting half-asleep. The sky outside his window was dark. He quickly stood, put on his glasses, and parted the curtain to Tino's side of the room.

A few bright lamps lit the room, and Tino stood at the window, struggling with an old-fashioned pull-down contraption with a latch at the top. He bashed it a few times with his fist before smiling at Berwald apologetically. "The window's caught. Can you help me pull it free?"

Berwald stood still a few moments, heart pounding in his chest. "Sure." He forced himself to move, grasped the top of the window, and pulled. It did not budge.

"Um, you need to hold here..." Tino touched the centre frame of the window. "And hold it steady while I pull this part down."

"'kay."

Berwald held the frame steady. Tino was so close in front of him Berwald could smell his hair and feel the heat from his body. It was making his head spin and his mouth dry; he could not control his breath, his pulse, his thoughts.

Tino pulled on the sliding window and suddenly it flew down, slammed, and Berwald nearly lost his balance before steadying himself at the last second.

Tino laughed, somewhat shakily. "This old house is falling apart!"

Berwald didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. He just looked out at the moonlit backyard over Tino's shoulder… and realised he had forgotten to mow it.

Tino noticed at the same time. "You didn't mow the lawn."

"No. S'rry."

"Don't apologise. Denmark shouldn't make you do the yard."

"I don't mind. I'm goin' t'make ye a garden." The words came out before Berwald could stop them.

Tino turned slowly, his face unreadable. They were still so close, but Berwald did not move. "You're... going to make me a garden?" Tino looked surprised, confused, and slightly flattered all at once.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Why?"

"'cause... 'cause ye want one."

Tino stared at him. Berwald stared back. Surely those violet eyes could not grow any wider.

Suddenly, a devastated scream echoed down the hall, followed by a cry of, "Oh my God, she did what?!"

Berwald realised just how close he was still standing to Tino, and forced himself to step back.

Tino laughed, clutching the lower window frame behind him. "I think Norway just ruined the ending of Den's book."

"Oh. I didn't mean t'…"

Tino smirked. "Den deserves it."

Berwald couldn't help but agree. "What was he readin' anyway?"

"Denmark's got a thing for romance novels. He's on a bit of a historical time-travel kick at the moment."

Berwald didn't know what to say to that.

"Feliks loves them too, but he prefers regencies. Eduard says it's all heteronormative garbage." Berwald felt his fingers twitch at the mention of Eduard. Tino continued easily, "Something happened between you and Ivan too, didn't it? It's just, when I saw the way you were talking with him before… Ivan seems to have that effect on a lot of people. Making them angry, I mean."

What was Berwald supposed to say? He's someone I gamble with illegally and he enjoys ruining my life? "It's really nothin' t'worry about." Then he remembered the way Ivan had looked at Iceland. "Is Iceland okay?"

Tino didn't reply for a moment, face uncertain. He answered slowly. "He's all right. He's tough. Not as tough as he thinks, but still tough. Ivan and him…" Tino stopped. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't…"

"O'course," Berwald said quickly.

Tino took a shaking breath and looked down at his fluffy purple slippers. "You know how this morning, when we were talking in the kitchen, and I told you how my parents walked in on me kissing Eduard?"

Not exactly something Berwald could forget... "Yes."

"I… I want you to know that I'm not… um, I mean… we're not together. He's not my boyfriend or anything, we're just friends." Tino's cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. "I just wanted to know what it was like… kissing, that is, and…" Tino's eyes went wide and he suddenly seemed to panic. "…and I know you don't care at all and I'm sorry I said anything, please forget it, that was really stupid…"

"No," said Berwald. Sure, it was strange, but… "Nothin' ye say could ever be stupid."

Tino's brows furrowed, and his head slightly tilted. "You're not really that scary, are you?"

"I don't try t'be."

Tino nodded, a little ashamed. "I know. I'm sorry. I must seem so rude to you."

"No. I know how people see me."

"That's unfair though, isn't it? For people to just look at you and think they know who you are. I never thought I would be like that. Not when I know people do the same thing to me."

"But ye're not like that. I think ye see through that."

Tino bit his lip and brushed his hair from his forehead, familiar, endearing gestures that made Berwald's heart twinge in hope and warmth and yearning. Outside the window, a cloud obscured the moon; the room darkened slightly, even with the light of the lamps inside.

"Thank you for helping me with the window."

"Ye're welcome."

"And Berwald, if you find this all too much and choose to move out – I understand. And I'm really glad to have met you. But I... I hope you don't."

Berwald tried to respond, but his throat was completely dry. Tino sounded like he really wanted Berwald to stay, and Berwald physically ached to reach out and touch him. He eventually managed to respond. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Tino smiled, but he didn't look convinced. "It's probably getting late. Have you been asleep?"

"Sort'f."

Then, utterly unexpectedly, Tino reached out and took Berwald's pocket watch from his front pocket. At the feather touch on his chest, Berwald felt like he'd been struck to his centre; as though his thumping heart could not take much more. Tino did not notice. "It's nearly ten. Guess I should get to bed, too."

Berwald just nodded, speechless.

"It really is a beautiful watch." Tino smiled as he handed it back. "Where did you get it?"

Berwald forced himself to speak. "It was m'fathers, and m'grandfathers."

"Cool, like a family tradition!" Tino looked genuinely interested. "Are you close to your dad?"

Berwald paused a moment. "I was. He's dead now."

Tino's face fell, mortified. "I'm sorry. That was stupid of me, I shouldn't have assumed…"

Berwald had to stifle a snort of laughter at the way Tino kept apologising. "'s'okay."

"No, it's not. I always say the wrong thing. I didn't, I just, I mean…" Tino stopped short, closed his eyes briefly, and took a deep breath. Then he looked directly into Berwald's eyes. "I'm sorry about your dad."

For a few seconds, Berwald couldn't breathe. "Thank ye."

It almost seemed like Tino was going to say something else; but he just blinked, averted his eyes, and turned away. "Goodnight."

Berwald told himself to move, choked out a 'G'night," and disappeared behind his curtain. He put a hand to his chest, feeling it pound heavily against his skin. He was suddenly hot, too hot, and had to tear his shirt over his head, careful to first place his pocket watch on the desk. Then he fell backwards into bed, palms pressed firmly against his eyes.

Berwald no longer cared that Denmark was wildly insane. He did not care that Norway seemed sociopathic. He didn't care that he could not figure out the mystery of Ivan and Iceland. He didn't care about the Buddhist loafers on the couch. All Berwald cared about now was Tino.

Tino, who made it all worth it.

Strange, awkward, breathtaking Tino, who he was deeply, startlingly, desperately in love with.

.

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Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.