#Me knowing full well this man absolutely loathes himself: hold him and pat him........

[viisiond]

rebelliousties replied:

i want to grab him. idk i just i feel the impulse to grip him. squeeze like squeaky toy. pat pat

Vanitas vc: YES!!! Grab me and HOLD me!!!

[julek]

7) “are we breaking up?” 💕

The ring burns in Geralt's hand.

He's had it for so long, hidden at the bottom of his bag, two old shirts wrapped around it for good measure. He's looked at it on starless nights and turned it on his finger over and over again for long winters. He's written hundreds of pages under candlelight in Vesemir's library while staring at it, watching the shapes it cast on the walls where the light met its stone.

He's finally ready. His brothers have gone hunting with Vesemir, the candles are lit, and there's a bottle of his best wine cooling in the snow.

Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Pocketing the ring and putting on a confident smile, he walks over to where Jaskier is napping in front of the fire. He takes a minute to drink him in, the soft slope of his nose golden pink against the furs he's wrapped himself around, his curls mussed and tangled against the pillow. He crouches by his side.

"Jask."

One blue eye cracks open. Then closed. "Mm."

Geralt smiles. "Jask, come on."

"Hmmmmmm." Jaskier screws his eyes shut. "We're closed. Come back later."

Geralt bites his lip, thinking of a way to wake him up that doesn’t involve pouring frozen water directly onto his face. "Jask," he says again, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Jaskier's face.

Third time's the charm.

"Ugh," Jaskier complains, sitting up and bringing the blankets up with him as well. He blinks once, twice, then squints at Geralt. "What."

Okay, not the perfect opening Geralt expected. He can make it work, though. "I need to talk to you."

At that, Jaskier is a little more awake. His eyes are wide and Geralt can feel the way his scent changes, but he can't quite put his finger on what it is. Jaskier makes some room for him to sit, and Geralt nods. "Right."

His heart is pounding, and he suddenly forgets every sonnet and ballad he spent months quoting to Lambert as practice, forgets every eloquent sentence Eskel suggested to him as they fenced. He clears his throat, then takes in a deep breath.

Jaskier's looking at him with curiosity and something else he can't quite decipher, so he takes his hands in his. "Jaskier," he stars.

After a moment, and because Geralt hasn't said anything else, Jaskier squeezes his hands. "Yes?"

He clears his throat again. Gods, it hadn't been as hard when he practiced with Vesemir. "You have been by my side for a long time." Okay, not a bad start. "I didn't want your company at first, didn't need it."

Jaskier's face does a complicated thing, so he hurries to continue. "You were loud and reckless and annoying, and more often than not I had to save you from cuckolded husbands and revenge-seeking fathers," he chuckles. "And it took us a while to get to where we are."

Jaskier's eyes are shining as he looks up at him. Perfect, Geralt thinks. I knew I've always been a romantic deep down.

He gets bolder. "I brought you to Kaer Morhen this winter, after many years of someone," he says, and thinks of Lambert's merciless teasing, "pestering me to let you come. But I think it is time I tell you the truth about my feelings."

Geralt's about to bring the ring out of his pocket when a sob escapes Jaskier's mouth. He looks up, confused. "Jaskier?"

Jaskier isn't looking at him, tears running down his cheeks. "Are—" he sniffs, "are we breaking up?"

Geralt freezes in his seat. Breaking up? Where did Jaskier get the idea—

Oh.

He springs into action. "No, no, no," he soothes, taking Jaskier in his arms, loathing the way his tears keep falling. "No, Jask— Gods, I'm an idiot. I'm not breaking up with you." He reaches into his pocket, pulls the ring out. "I'm asking you to marry me."

"You—" Jaskier lets out a strangled sob and tries to speak, but his tears don't let him, so Geralt pulls him against his chest, whispering sweet nothings in his ear until Jaskier's breathing evens out.

Once he can, Jaskier pulls back. "That was you asking me to marry you?"

"Um." Geralt's still holding the ring, and he aims for a smile. "Yes?"

Jaskier covers his flushed face with his hands, muttering into them. "—the most tactless Witcher in the entire Continent, yes." He takes a deep breath. "You— I—" He closes his eyes. "You know what? Just— go on. What were you saying?"

Geralt swallows, tentatively reaches out for Jaskier's hand. He has a feeling he's sleeping in the stables tonight. "Um." He swallows again. "I was about to tell you about my feelings. For you."

Jaskier nods and pats his hand. "Yes, yes. That."

Taking in a deep breath, Geralt steels himself. "What I was trying to say," he starts, "was that I didn't always see you for who you were. For who you are." Jaskier smiles at that, and Geralt squeezes his hand. "Kind. Loving. Brave."

He rubs the stone on the ring with his thumb. "I do now," he says, looking into Jaskier's eyes, drowning in that blue. "And, contrary to what I made you believe a few seconds ago, I can't get enough of you."

Jaskier sniffs. "I love you," Geralt murmurs in the low light, plain and simple. True. "I never wish to be parted from you."

There's a beat of silence. Then—

"You ridiculous, foolish man!" Jaskier exclaims, swatting at his chest. His grin is blinding. "That was all you needed to say! None of that You were nothing but a parasite, I hated you at first glance—"

"I don't believe I said—"

Jaskier's laughter is infectious. Geralt hears it against his chest as he pulls him into his arms. "I love you, you fool." Jaskier looks up at him. "Ugh, I can't believe you did that."

Geralt lets out a laugh, relieved. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you I practiced that, would you?"

Jaskier laughs again, bright and so, so lovely. Geralt loves him too much. "I fear for whoever had to be the pretend recipient of that so-called declaration of love."

"Hmm," Geralt says, and presses a kiss to Jaskier's cheek. Jaskier turns and catches his lips in a tender kiss, full of laughter and longing and love.

"So?" Geralt says when they part.

Jaskier's dopey grin doesn't waver. "So what?"

Geralt presents him the ring. "Will you?"

Jaskier gapes, taking a proper look at the ring, watching it glint in the firelight. Then, he looks at Geralt with a smirk. "I don't believe I heard a question yet."

"Jask," Geralt groans, but looking at Jaskier's shit-eating grin makes his heart feel lighter. He smiles his softest smile and whispers, "Will you marry me?"

Jaskier's left eyebrow rises, and he puts on a ridiculous considering face. Then, earnest, he says, "Yes."

There's the sound of a bottle popping open behind him, and it makes them turn.

"Shit!" comes Lambert's shout-whisper.

"I told you to be quiet," chides Eskel, and Geralt can hear Vesemir's quiet laugh as well.

"You were supposed to be hunting!" He yells, and, at last, from behind a curtain emerge the Wolves. "You weren't supposed to be here."

Lambert's hands are sticky with the wine he's holding in his hands. "By the way your proposal went, I wouldn't be too worried about clearing the space to consummate your love right here in the hall."

"Lambert," Eskel says, hitting his arm.

Geralt looks at Jaskier. "Sorry." He glares at his brothers. "They were supposed to be gone."

Lambert cackles. "Gods know what would've happened if we'd left you truly alone!" He elbows Eskel in the side. "Bet you pretty boy would've made Jaskier pack his bags somehow."

Taking Geralt's hand, Jaskier clears his throat. "It was a beautiful proposal," he says, and only laughs a little bit. "Very original."

Vesemir joins in. "Son," he rumbles, nodding at Geralt. "Give him the ring."

"Oh." Geralt looks at Jaskier, who puts out his left hand expectantly. He kisses his ring finger before sliding the small silver ring in, the plain but imposing stone shining against his tanned skin. "There."

This time, Geralt's sure that the tears that escape Jaskier's eyes are happy ones. He kisses each one away, bringing the bard into his arms once more.

"I love you," he whispers into his hair. Jaskier says it back against his jaw. They stay in each other's arms for a while, reveling in the warmth of their love, of their embrace.

"Yes, yes, love conquers all, we know,” Lambert says, "but we're not getting any younger, the wine isn't getting any cooler—"

Geralt clicks his tongue, and Jaskier laughs as Lambert keeps listing reasons as to why they should stop making pretty eyes at each other and get their asses to Vesemir's congratulatory dinner. Shaking his head, Geralt stands up. He offers Jaskier his hand. "Are you coming?"

Jaskier's ring scratches Geralt's hand as he takes it. It's a pleasant feeling.

"Always."

[ac3id]

pairings: shigaraki tomura x female reader

warnings: nsfw, dubcon, captivity, yandere shiggs, mention of death, shiggs is a meanie, dumbification if ya squit.

a/n: im so glad someone requested this!! i will litereally never shut up about man also!! shigaraki is beefed up in this cus that man finna get permanent residency in my head

word count. 1557

Imagine: Shigaraki taking the small, cute little pathetic nurse of the hospital he hijacked as his darling. 

It takes some time for him to find you tolerable. At first, he absolutely loathes you; you’re always crying over the littlest things, always painting him to be the bad guy and you even refuse to give treatment to his men. And honestly, that pisses him off the most. You’re completely brainwashed by society. What do you mean you won’t help men like ‘him’? Are you that superior? You get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Are his men not humans? He hates you. If it weren’t for the situation he had faced himself in, he would have decayed you in the blink of an eye. But now after a failed mission and a lot of casualties on his side, he needed your quirk.  

When he kidnaps you, finally, it’s not because he loves you and wants to take care of you. No. It’s because he wants to torture you- literally. He’s so sick of your hot-headedness, so sick of your ideals- how you still think heroes will come to save you from those nefarious villains. Shigaraki wants to break you, show you how pathetic you really are. And so he does. 

One day he just gets so tired of your antics, you’re ignoring him- something you find yourself doing very often these days. You isolate yourself from him and everyone. You run to a storage room and hide, your knees pressed to your chest and head held down. You sniffle into your knees, you never wanted this happen. What did I do to this deserve this? When would the heroes come? You chanted to yourself. Deep down, you knew Shigaraki was right but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that the world was so hollow and even if it was, you’d choose to ignore it. You’d live your life the way you want to and believe in that devil’s words. You’d- 

The door slams open, a big angry looking Shigaraki stands in the there, his eyes fuming with murderous intent. He rushes towards and wastes no time in clasping his big, sturdy hands around your petite neck and you pulling you up. He squeezes around it and choking noises fills the room, your hands automatically wrap around his trying to push him off but it’s all in vain. He’s too strong and you’re too dumb. You let out choked pleads, begging him to let you go and that you’ll help him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you cause he needed you, you believed that he’d-

“If you’re thinking that I won’t kill you right this instant. You are wrong. I will take away your quirk for myself and leave you here to bite the dust. Don’t test me.”

He drops you to the floor, you rub your neck and try to collect yourself. He looks down at you, the way your tremble reminds him of a puppy who’s been kicked. He smiles to himself, he crouches down and grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. “I don’t like being mean to a pretty little thing like you,” he confesses and your eyebrows knit together. Why is he talking to you like this? 

“Use your dumb little head, okay? Listen to me.” His hold from your collar disappears and he stands back to his full height hovering over, you looked like an ant under and he looked like monster. You look up at him with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes- he’s the predator and you’re the prey. There’s no denying it. You were stupid for choosing not to submit to him before but now, you know he’s not the one to show mercy. He’s going to give you one chance you better not disappoint him. 

You started to obey him after he had threatened you, knowing full well he’d take your quirk and kill you the very next second. You did not want to challenge or anger him. It’s for my own survival, you tell yourself. You help his men, you sit, biting back your urge to hit Dabi as you tend to his wounds while he throws obscene remarks of what he’d do to a girl like you or how you have to stop your self from throwing up as you listen to Toga explain in detail about what she wants to this boy she’s crushing on. It’s hard work. Spinner and Mr. Compress were a little better but considering the fact that they come back to you after murdering innocents. It surely manages to you up at night.

It doesn’t take long for Shigaraki to develop a soft spot for you, he likes this new you. You are submissive, you listen to him. He finally managed to put you in your place. 

You did not think about those heroes anymore, did you? 

Ridiculously, he finds a friend in you, both of you start talking. You talk about your day with him he tells you about his, you drink together and as much as you shouldn’t; you find yourself enjoying your time with the league. 

You come to understand them and you forget that you’re being held, hostage. Call it Stockholm syndrome but you didn’t care. The newfound joy lasts but all things must end.

The calm before the storm: Shigaraki suddenly finds himself falling for you, your shy habits- how you’d twirl your hair when you got nervous or chewed on your lip while concentrating. How your cheeks stained pink in your intoxicated state. He noticed everything, he didn’t want to believe he was falling for but the way butterflies that danced around in his stomach when your finger grazed over his, how his mood turned better when you entered the room. The signs were obvious. He was in love 

He thought he’d tell you about his feelings for you before they left the hospital, all his men had recovered wonderfully courtesy to you. You’d flee with him and the both of you would be happy together forever a perfect ending for a new beginning. He confesses his love to you two days before his departure, he tells you how he wants to spend his life with you, how he thinks you’re the one but to his dismay. You don’t feel the same.

It breaks his heart into pieces, he can’t believe what he just heard. You’re kidding, right? You love him the way he loves you. Right? 

No? No. 

He’s pissed. Needless to say, even though you rejected his proposal, he still takes you along. He locks you in one of the many rooms of the PLF mansion. The only person you can see is him, he spends hours trying to make you understand why you needed him but you don’t budge. It’s like starting all over again. He is kind at the beginning but as days go by and his frustrations increase he just ends up using you like his fuckhole, bending you over whenever he wants and fucking your brains out. Shoving his cock down your throat, leaving you a quivering mess.

If you refuse or hesitate, he’d threaten you. He’ll take away your quirk and chop your legs and arms clean and leave you to rot. He’s done it before (you recall the incident with Overhaul). It leaves you no choice but to listen to him.  He wins all the time.

“Faster,” Shigaraki grunts. He has your wrists tied behind your back, his fingers tugging on your nipples, hard grinning at how your face confronts in pain. “Come on, whore. I know you can do better than this” he says staring at how your tiny cunt takes his huge cock. He was mesmerized, the way your walls wrapped around his girth. It was obviously too much for you, you could barely keep. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth and eyes crosses, it was given. 

Unable to form responses you only whined in protest, hoping Shigaraki would take it easy on you but he just laughed. “What are you saying, my dumb little baby?” he asked in a condescending voice. It made you feel pathetic, he treated you like a pet who couldn’t for look after herself. It drove you mad that you couldn’t do anything about it, his hand snakes around your neck holding it firmly you stop moving on his dick. Keeping it settled warmly in your hole he pulls you down, his lips level with your ear. “Do it properly, my love,” you cringe internally at the nickname- a second ago he was calling you a whore. “If you don’t, I’ll take quirk,” your face pales, you couldn’t lose your quirk. It was all you had. “Please...Don’t do that. It’s all I have.” your voice cracks and tears roll to your cheeks, “It’s okay, baby. Just do it again. Be better this time,” he coos his hand patting your back as he restrains himself from thrusting into you, he lets you go and you start rocking your hips again trying to satisfy him, he grips your waist tightly; it would leave marks later. 

Shigaraki stares at you sleeping next to him, after a tiring session you were finally getting well deserved rest. You had obeyed him beautifully today, he wondered how long would it take before you realized that; it wasn’t your quirk which was all you had left. It was him.  

feedback is greatly appreciated!! 

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[writerman]

Barduil prompt? :) Thran getting badly injured during the BOFA and concealing it from everyone, especially Legolas because he doesn't want to stop him from leaving if it's what he needs. Bard's the only who notices because he's so gone on Thran that he finds himself always seeking Thran out in a room so he sees how he carries himself differently, but Thran denies being hurt even when Bard calls him out on it, but Bard won't let it rest...

Hallo. I am here with a response! It is 4:30am here and I am listening to Shirobon and vibing with my cats.

Please enjoy this, anon!

--------

When Thranduil returned from Ravenhill he was without Legolas but led a grief-stricken Tauriel through the crowds, with her hand clasped tightly in his. 

Bard watched grimly from a doorway, his children huddled into his side exhausted and shaken from the day’s events, unwilling to separate from their father when he gently eased Tilda’s small fingers from their vice-like grip on his bloodsoaked coat, all the while murmuring soft words and promises that he would return as soon as he could. 

When he found Thranduil he was in his private tent, the elf was holding himself up with the edge of the table with a large map sprawled over the majority of the surface, and to be honest, Bard hadn’t expected to be allowed entry. But the guards had ushered him in gently no words passing between them but insistent nudges guided the man into the tent and toward their king.

Upon hearing someone enter Thranduil straightens to his full height but Bard was quick to see the grimace, there and gone in an instant. When he turned to face him Thranduil was impossibly pale, more so than Bard had ever witnessed in the elf before. 

While he hadn’t truly spent much time in the presence of the King, aside from their first initial meetings when agreeing his work with taking barrels on his boat down the river, and of course, when he blazed in on his elk to ‘save the day’ with effortless grace, Bard knew he was absolutely in love with Thranduil. 

His feelings would not ever be addressed not out loud and certainly not with himself in the dark of night when he could not sleep. But it did allow him to be more observant of the elf whenever he might have been in the vicinity. 

“You’re hurt?” Bard took a hesitant step forward but nothing more though he was now close enough that when he reached out to Thranduil his fingertips brushed the cold metal of his breastplate. 

The metal was torn and jagged but his hand was angrily slapped away before he could inspect any closer. 

“The battle is done, there is no need for you to seek me out.” 

“My Lord, you are injured and you need to be attended to.” Bard didn’t want whatever fantasy of Thranduil he had built in his mind to be demolished by the blond while he was railed against the pain he might have been in. 

At this rate, the king would get sick, he was sure of it, yet it seemed there would be nothing he could say to have Thranduil relent and release his grip on his own ego. 

“You think that I would conceal an injury?” Thranduil snapped, the cool exterior he had placed so firmly before him had all but melted away and now he stood tall, imposing and heated with anger blazing in his eyes. “For what reason would I wish to elude healers and those here to attend to me?”

But he had to be lying… 

Eleven armour was excellent but the way it was torn open, Bard just couldn’t ignore it. 

“As I said, and I loathe to repeat my self, there is no reason for you to seek me out, Bowman. Take your leave and reap the benefits of the peace your little village now has. You are wasting your time here.” 

He was right of course he was but it didn’t make sense to Bard. Not with each twist and turn, each movement the elf made that came slower, and his expressions tighter as though gritting his teeth through the pain. 

There wasn’t a chance Bard was going to be able to live with himself if he just left Thranduil this way. Injury or not he had to know- and if he was wrong, which he truly doubted he was, it was fine because Thranduil and he would never meet again. 

Taking matters into his own hands, Bard strode forward and reached up unclasping the breastplate, it clanged dully when it hit the ground. Thranduil began to angrily demand answers but when Bard gently rested a hand to the bloodstained and tattered section of his robes just under his ribs his words were silenced with a hiss. 

“Why would you lie?” Bard didn’t allow the time for an answer as he tore open the robe to expose the skin under it. Angry, red and still weeping blood but it wasn’t deep as far as Bard could tell. 

“You tore my robe.” When Thranduil spoke his words rushed out quietly in a shallow breath, the pain evident now he could no longer lie to the bowman. 

“I’m sure you can have a new one made. It isn’t the end of the world.” Bard stepped away in search of something to clean the wound but found nothing in the lavishly decorated tent. “If your ego allows it maybe you can remove the robe so I can see what I am doing?” As he marched off, he thanks whatever Gods he could that Thranduil hadn’t just strangled the life out of him for his ill manners. 

One of the guards at the entrance of the tent went to fetch clean water and bandages with the express order that he did not mention it was for their king. If anyone asked Bard was the one injured. 

Returning with a bowl of water, cloth and bandages, Bard was happy to find that Thranduil had done as he was asked and removed the robe so that he stood in only his leggings and boots. It was a sight to behold even with the angry wound at his side. 

“Sit down and let me clean this for you.” Thranduil did as he was told, yet again, but he managed to grumble unhappily under his breath as he did so. Bard elected to ignore the whining and instead set the dish of water down on the floor as he knelt down to inspect the wound closely. 

“I don’t think this is a terrible wound but it definitely needs attention,” Bard spoke mostly to himself as he lifted a clean cloth from the water and wrung it out before gently patting the wound only stopping when Thranduil moved away. “Come now, the sooner it is clean the sooner you will feel better. I’ll give you something sweet as a reward if you sit still.” 

“I am not a child, Bowman,” Thranduil replied affronted but Bard could only laugh shaking his head as he once again dabbed at the elf’s skin. 

“You certainly act like one, if you don’t want something sweet, at least tell me what you refused to acknowledge this?” He gestured to the injury as he looked up to Thranduil. The elf refused to return his gaze and instead with his head held high he studied the roof of the tent intently (ha). 

“You have no idea what it is like to be king,” Thranduil paused his expression changing to that of a man with a sudden and surprising thought, “Though, I suppose you shall see soon enough.” 

Bard did not like the sound of that.

“Um, I’m sorry, what?” He tried to ignore the rising worry that settled in his chest as he unrolled a length of fabric to bandage the wound. This was going to be the hardest part seeing as he was now going to have to, essentially, wrap his arms around the elven king to get this done. 

“Well, you are of the line of Girion. The rightful heir of Dale, you will be king of this city.” 

“Aha, no thank you.” Bard’s face was on fire as he pressed his cheek to Thranduil’s ribs to properly bandage the king, who really didn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact, he was smirking with undisguised glee near enough when he finally looked down at Bard. 

“Are we done here?” His voice rumbling through Bard’s cheek leaving him utterly speechless for a good few moments. 

Yes, yes they were and Bard was happy to get to his feet and scamper away but it seemed he was the only one with that idea and Thranduil caught him by the wrist pulling back round to face him. 

“You assume you can leave without allowing me to give thanks?” 

“Is it not thanks enough that you will remain healthy?” The answer, of course, was no and that was how Bard ended up in a gloriously warm bath with his back pressed against Thranduil’s chest, completely obliterating all his work to clean and dress the elf’s injuries. 

“Hm, but I think this is a better thank you, don’t you?”

Well, maybe.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

“You are an uncultured swine! There I said it!”

(I'll be very honest, i forgot you followed me on here and i saw this ask and i was like... dear god in heaven... she's been here...the whole time!?!?! Hahahaha! Buuutttt here you goooo!!! I did change the line a bit to make it fit better in the dialogue! Hope that's okay! And i hope you like it!!!! I'm so tired but really proud that i actually got both these written today! Haha! Thank youuuuuu! 💚💙💚💙)

Geralt can smell the discontent coming off Jaskier in waves. He takes a deep breath, glancing at the bard next to him. He's glaring across the room at something, or maybe someone. And it hits Geralt in the gut, the scent coming off of Jaskier is hatred. Pure loathing. Geralt moves his eyes across the room, trying to figure out what could be making Jaskier so tense and… angry. Jaskier's hands are shaking at his sides. The crowd parts with a wave of laughter and that's when Geralt sees him, the man with the lute. 

He sighs, there's only one man with a lute that could make Jaskier so frustrated and full of loathing on sight. 

"So that's Valdo Marx?" Geralt asks, his voice quiet as he leans toward Jaskier. Jaskier's head snaps around so fast Geralt hears something pop, Jaskier doesn't seem to notice. 

"Don't say his name." He snaps, turning to look back across the room.

"You'll summon him. Like the devil he is." Jaskier grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt pats Jaskier on the shoulder, forcing himself not to linger on the touch. He does feel Jaskier relax a bit at the touch though, and that's enough for him. Jaskier grabs a drink off a passing tray and downs it, turning to face Geralt. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn't get the chance. 

"My dear Julian!" A smarmy voice calls. Geralt watches Jaskier's entire body go rigid, he looks at Geralt, eyes wide. 

"Can we run?" He whispers.

"He's coming over." Geralt says into the rim of his glass, taking a sip as the man approaches. Jaskier grimaces and then puts on the most fake cheerful face Geralt has ever seen on him. He was usually just so genuinely cheerful Geralt wasn't sure he'd ever seen him fake it before. It looked exhausting. 

"Valdo! How… wonderful to see you!" They bow minutely to each other. And then Valdo is eyeing Geralt. He feels… uncomfortable, to say the least, with the man's eyes on him. 

"I see you brought your… pet, with you. Interesting that they let him into court, knowing his… reputation." The man smirks. Geralt stares at him, not really caring about what the overdressed fool thinks of him. He can feel Jaskier bristle next to him.

"Hmm… one could say the same about your reputation. Dear Valdo." Jaskier's voice is… tight. Geralt has never heard him be so cold to someone. 

"Oh? I assure you my courtly reputation is spotless. But since you brought it up. There have been… rumors…" he smiled, sickly sweet. Jaskier swallowed, his eyes darting to Geralt and back to the bard in front of them quickly. 

"There are always rumors. I assure you they are just that. Rumors. You know as well as I do that nothing said at court can be relied upon as truth." Jaskier's fists are clenched at his sides, so hard that Geralt can smell blood. He moves his hand to Jaskier's shoulder, feels him tense even more and then relax the slightest bit. 

Valdo's eyes rake over Geralt's body, up, then down, and up again. Geralt feels oddly violated. Jaskier tenses under his hand. 

"Such a shame. I'm afraid it does make sense though. The thought that such a… specimen… would have anything to do with you. Well, let's be honest." He gives Jaskier a pity filled look, his lip pouting out dramatically. Geralt feels his neck grow hot, his hand dropping from Jaskier's shoulder, curling into a fist at his side. He opens his mouth to speak, to yell, to shout at this sorry excuse for a bard, but Jaskier beats him to it. 

"You- you! You shut your fucking mouth you uncultured swine!" Jaskier's voice is full of venom, his fist slams into Valdo's face before either he, or Geralt has time to react. Valdo hits the floor with a shout, crying out in a whine as he clutches his bleeding nose. Jaskier stalks forward, Geralt reacts quickly this time. He grabs Jaskier around the waist, throws him over his shoulder, and starts making his way to the door. Jaskier shouting back into the gathering crowd, voice heated and full of passion.

"If you ever look, or speak, to, or about him, like that ever again! I will scratch your fucking eyes out! You overdressed! Overrated!! Absolute fucking bollock!!!" He's shaking in Geralt's arm, Geralt can feel him pointing threateningly at the bard he'd knocked to the floor. Geralt carries him out of the hall, out of the castle, and into the stables, before setting him down.

Jaskier begins pacing immediately. His face is red, and Geralt can see the blood in his palms, he had been so angry he'd dug his nails into his own skin, as Geralt had suspected. Geralt watches him, silently, trying to give him space to calm down. Jaskier rounds on Geralt, his hands slamming onto his hips.

"Can you believe…?" He waves his hand wildly in the direction of the castle.

"I mean. The way he looked at you. The way he spoke to you! The way he spoke about you! And I- I mean… the- the insinuation. That we… I mean that we're. That we'd." He moves his hands together in front of himself, pointing between them both. Geralt smiles, the flush on Jaskier's cheeks now very clearly not having anything to do with his exasperation with the other bard. 

His scent had spiked again at his words. Geralt's heart sank a little when his scenes were flooded with the scent of embarrassment. He pressed forward, into Jaskier's space, his hands finding his hips easily. Jaskier's flush deepened, the anxiety pouring off him now mixed with excitement, and a small amount of fear. Fear that Geralt was determined to rid him of. He moved one hand to Jaskier's cheek, his thumb brushing against his flushed skin soothingly, and moved forward, his lips fitting against Jaskier's so perfectly. 

He swallowed the gasp he'd startled out of the bard, kissing him deeper, pulling him close and then pulling back. Jaskier's eyes stayed closed, fluttering open only at the laugh Geralt breathed against his lips. 

"Do not ever, be embarrassed about your feelings. Especially not the ones you hold, so very carefully, for me." Jaskier blinked at him, slowly, his cheeks impossibly more red than they had been moments before. 

"Promise me." Geralt breathed, his forehead pressing to Jaskier's, his thumb once again soothing Jaskier's burning skin. Jaskier nodded, biting his lip and smiling at Geralt, speechless at last.

[pokeheadcannons97]

Due to now knowing rules, can I request bede with a s/o who has a (f) meowstic not liking the relationship, and constantly getting in the way? Please and thank you!

I’m so sorry this took so long!!!! I really loved this ask! Thank you!!!!! 

               Bede had been overjoyed to receive your invitation of a day together in Circhester. The weather forecasted clear skies with a chance of seeing the aurora in the later hours of the night. He had a full itinerary of the places where the two of you should head to, to full enjoy your rare uninterrupted day together.

               You had been busy with studies at your local college, completely swamped with schoolwork from the full sets of classes that you were currently taking. When you had a day off, he was busy with the onset of challengers at the gym. When he had a day off, you were occupied with homework and studying. Both of you had responsibilities that you couldn’t stray away from, so when the two of you both had a day off that lined up together, you decided to make the most of it.

               Bede had arrived at the meeting spot early, he glanced up at the park clock which read a quarter to ten. The snow piled on the top of it as it ticked away quietly in the rush of cars and people in downtown Circhester.

               He spotted a flower shoppe a few buildings down, an idea popping into his head.

—–

He handed the money to clerk as he told him which kinds of flowers to put into the bundle. Once picked and arranged he then chose a f/c ribbon to tie around in a large bow around the stems.

He carefully took the arrangement into his hands. “These look absolutely splendid, thank you.” He told the older shop owner who gave him a warm smile in return.

 “Anytime kiddo, it’s not everyday that I get to work on an arrangement for a gym leader.” He replied with a hearty chuckle, wiping the trimmings into a waste basket below. “Let alone for one that’s going on a date.”

 The blond blinked rapidly, his grasp on the flowers growing tighter.  “Who said anything about it being a date?”

The man let out another chuckle, louder this time. “Oh please son, I’ve been in this business for many years, I know what a fella that’s about to go on a date looks like. You may be a gym leader but you’re still a youngin. Your face is about as red as these roses over here.” He gestured to the big, uncut rose stems he was lining up on his worktable.

Bede was about to protest about how rude it was to assume things when the owner spoke up again. “If you want to have a good look at the aurora tonight, I’d suggest heading up towards the gym. With you being a gym leader, Melony should be able to let you two watch from the roof on top there.” He gave the young boy a wink. “Just a suggestion from an old geezer like me.”

The boy looked down at the bouquet in his hands, then back up to the shop owner. He gave a slight swallow as he tried to make the redness of his cheeks go down. “I’ll see about it, thank you for the advice.” He raised the flowers up a little. “And the arrangement, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

The man gave a light hum in approval. “Take care kiddo.”

Bede walked back to the meet up spot, his pink boots crunching the freshly fallen snow below. It was embarrassing to be so easily read by a stranger. He was usually so used to having the upper hand, to have control of the situation… except when it came to you. You made him a mess, and only you could. Why else would he get these flowers fo-?

“Beeeeeeedeeeee!!”

He looked up from his embarrassing thoughts to see you running from the station over towards him. Your hair was in all sorts of disarray as it stuck out in multiple places under your toboggin.

“You’re here early! If I would’ve known that, I’d catch the earlier train!” You told him while catching your breathe.

Bede gave a light chuckle, and genuine smile. He tucked the unruly strands back into place, fixing your scarf in the process. “Then there wouldn’t be a need for a meet up time, besides, I didn’t wait that long.” He placed the flowers out into your hands. “I used that time wisely though, no need to worry.”

You gave a loud gasp, your cheeks flooding with color. “Bedey! You shouldn’t have!” You marveled at the arrangement in your hands, smoothing a finger over the big bow. “These are gorgeous! And you even got my favorite!”

You leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on his lips, your other hand that wasn’t holding the arrangement found it’s way to his cheek. “You’re the sweetest ever, thank you.”

Bede’s face flushed himself, but the smile remained on his lips, nonetheless. “I’m glad you like them.” He was about to lean in for another kiss when he felt something nudging in between the two of you.

He looked down and his face immediately fell. “Ah…hello Mochi.”

Mochi was your Meowstic, quite a docile natured female Meowstic usually. She had been your partner Pokemon since you were in middle school. The two of you went everywhere together, and she rarely left your side. Even for such intimate things as a date, much to Bede’s displeasure.

“Mochi! I thought you wanted to nap in your pokeball, silly girl!” You tutted at her, crouching down to your knees to give her head a firm pat, smoothing out the glossy fur.

Mochi leaned her head into your hand a mewed lovingly, her tail swishing back and forth. “Meeeeowwws~”

Bede also reached down to give her a pet, but she stopped him with one of her ears, and eyed him with distain.

“Alright alright, I know they give the best pets anyways.” Bede replied and retracted his hand. “So, do you wanna head out to that café?”

You gave him an excited nod. “Yes! I’m starving!” Your Meowstic purred in agreement, wrapping her tail around your leg. “Maybe they have some sweets that you’ll like Mochi.” You beamed at the psychic pokemon.

‘Wonderful…’ The gym leader though, stuffing a hand into his pocket, and smoothing his curls out with his other. ‘A plus one that absolutely loathes me.’

The day went by exactly as Bede had thought it would, after the new addition.

At the café while the two of you were eating your lunch, Mochi had levitated the spoon out of Bede’s mouth and plopped it down into his bowl of tomato bisque. Which in turn splattered rich red tomato stains all over his cardigan that he just had dry cleaned.

At the theatre, when he had grabbed your hand thinking it was yours, it was in fact Mochi’s who had taken your lap as her seat and swatted at him every time he even attempted to touch you. Eating all the popcorn that he had bought for the two of you. When he had leaned in for a kiss, he was met with a powerful scratch from a shadow claw.

During shopping at the local clothing shoppe, by some odd twist of fate the store was out of all outfits that Bede had taken a liking to, that were in his size. The store owner was even more so confused and repeatedly apologized to Bede and swearing up and down he would figure out why.

The clothes were found in the shoppe’s employees bathroom, tore to literal shreds. You two never went back. 

By the time night had fallen, Bede was beyond exhausted. At every turn and attempt that he had made to be close to you, Mochi had intervened.

She even hacked up a hairball while you two were holding hands on your walk by the water outside of town. Smirking towards Bede as you coddled her and were patting her back.

The two of you had arrived at the gym, snacks and drinks bought before hand to make it more of a leisurely picnic while watching the aurora on top of the gym at the shop owners’ suggestion.

Melony was more than happy to let the two of you use the roof of her gym for your date. Giving you a big warm hug in the process and fixing your hair back into place like a mother would do. She even suggested to use the gym challenge as a sort of couple’s activity.

While Bede insisted that was a bad idea, you were all up for it. Practically grabbing the tongs out of Melony’s hands in excitement.

Bede glanced towards Mochi who sneered at him with her arms crossed, tail swishing back and forth. He gave a sigh, his shoulder’s slumping in tandem. “Let’s do it…”

—-

The three of you cleared the first two levels with ease, you clapping your hands together in happiness and exclaimed loudly. “This was such a good idea! We haven’t even fell once!”

Meowstic mewed loudly with you, raising her hands in the air, sharing your excitement.

Bede watched in amusement and tugged his scarf closer to his body. It was rather easy to clear these levels with Meowstic’s superb sense of hearing. She had maneuvered the three of them through each hidden pitfall carefully. Not allowing any harm to come to you, or him.

Though he knew that if she had her way, he would be underneath the ice time after time.

You marched forward with her to begin the next level of the challenge, when you heard the whirring of machines all around you.

Mist, and thick fog began to emit from the fans up on the gym’s ceiling. It quickly settled down upon the three of you, and obscured the previously clear sight in front of you into a dense, icy haze.

You gave a slight shudder; the room grew even colder when those fans were turned on. “N-Now we can’t see?! This just keeps getting cooler and cooler!” you said eagerly and turned around to Bede. “Isn’t this the absolute best sweetie? We’re gonna clear this next one so quick, we’re gonna be faster than a Snorlax chasing lunch!”

Bede laughed at your childlike behavior, giving you a pat on the head before Mochi could swat him away. “We’d better hurry, but we gotta be extra careful, okay?” He reminded you and you nodded at him in response.

The three of you began to carefully trek the unsteady floor in front of you. Mochi had her ears up in full concentration, using her psychic power to help lead her away from the multiple traps that lay hidden underneath the ice. And all was going well up until the end.

With what seemed like a clear few steps away from the finish line, Mochi had gotten overly excited in wanting to beat Bede, she ran right over the final trap on the floor.

The ice began cracking under her small feet and she let out a small squeak as she fully expected to hit the lightly padded floor below.

…

But it never came.

The Pokemon cautiously opened one of her red eyes to peer at the pink cardigan that was previously stained by her with tomato bisque. The pokemon then fixed her gaze up to Bede who had managed to catch her in time to cushion the fall from above.

The gym leader groaned slightly, using on hand to prop himself and the Meowstic up. The other he used to rub his now slightly aching back. “Ugh…”

Mochi continued to stare, bewildered at Bede’s actions. The two of them didn’t get along, the pokemon didn’t agree with the relationship because she was highly critical of anyone that came close to her trainer. Let alone in intimate terms such as dating.

But if they didn’t get along, why did he save her?

Mochi mewed softly to Bede. “Murr?”

Violet eyes met with red ones and Bede offered Mochi a smile. “Hey, are you hurt?”

The pokemon shook her head and then nuzzled against his hand softly. “Meow…stic.”

The two of them looked up as they heard frantic footsteps.

“Bede! Mochi! Are you two alright?” You were on your hands and knees from above looking down with a concerned expression on your face.  

Bede gave a thumbs up and a smile, your Meowstic cheering loudly.

After helping Mochi and Bede up out of the hidden trap, you all found an alternative route to the finish line, and successfully finished the challenge.

Melony was waiting at the end to offer her congratulations, and the key to the roof as a “prize”.

You gave another cheer, wrapping your arms around Bede and pulling him into a kiss.

Bede kissed back happily and halfway expected to be interrupted. But he wasn’t.

After he pulled away from you, he peered down towards Mochi who was standing there quietly, looking away from the two of you with her paws together in front of her. Oddly quiet, and non-mischievous for once in her life.

The leader was confused at the Pokemon, but didn’t say anything as the three made their way up to the roof. As they arrived, the new gush of cold air hit everyone at once, causing a shiver to run through each of them simultaneously.

“Let’s get that blanket out yeah?” you suggested, wrapping your hands over your chilled arms.

When Bede had finished laying out the blanket on the cold roof’s floor, and another heavier blanket that quickly followed. You practically launched yourself under it’s cozy embrace and held it open for himself and Mochi to join into.

You dug into your backpack and pulled out several snacks and a thermos full of apple cider and poured your Meowstic some first. She in turn took a large sip and cooed appreciatively.

You then offered Bede a glass of his own, then settled in next to him. Mochi right in the middle of you two.

Once the three of you were comfortable it wasn’t long until a familiar streak of light made its way onto the sky, casting colors from pale blue to florescent pink all through the nighttime sky.

    You let out another gasp, while taking pictures with your rotom phone, totally entranced.

     Bede felt a small weight against his knee as Mochi settled herself next to him and licked at her paw to rub against her face to rid it of the sweet cider she had previously drank earlier. He wrapped a arm around you and petted your Meowstic’s fur softly, listening to her coos of delight.

    The day might not had gone as Bede originally planned, but it did end on a sweeter note. And that he was grateful for.

[yokelish]

Heart of a dog.

An OC for BSD no one asked for? It’s more likely than you think. A day in life of an original character by Yokelish no one asked for? Absolutely. I don’t have to, I know, but Misha has been on my mind recently, which worries me. Mostly, worries me about me. Anyway.....Here he comes. I just want to make sure for myself that I can tweak my writing style a bit. I am very humorous.You can read it, of course, and you can take it as an example of how not to write an original character. 

Anyone, here’s a thing I made for my kouhai, check that if you are more interested in canon characters. 

✏ Universe: Bungou Stray Dogs  ✏ Characters: Mikhail Bulgakov OC ✏ Word count: 3,094 (too many tbh) ✏ Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, drugs, smoking, and a dead animal.

Heart of a dog.

If there was a god above, then he must know how awful it felt to wake up in the morning. There was nothing as worthy of collective loathing as mornings. Extra sprinkles of revulsion get the mornings involving work. Mikhail covered his eyes when picking up the ringing phone. The light hurt him just as much as the idea of getting up from the bed. The ringing was tenfold louder and more annoying in his head, hitting the walls in his skulls like a smith’s hammer. Every sensation felt like an assault on his already shaky sanity.

“You have a patient in an hour,” said familiar voice on the line. Misha groaned. It wasn’t her voice that grinding on his nerves, it was the idea of having to do work today. The woman on the phone sighed with deliberate loudness just to let him know all about her frustration. She was the only person who could stand having him. Mostly because he payed her a pretty sum but that wasn’t the only reason.

“You have no option,” Nadejda reprimanded. There was a sound of typing on the other side, but it ceased quickly. “It’s Olga Danilovna.”

He took a deep breath. There was no mental exercise to prepare for that. “Dear, I don’t pay you for ruining my day the moment it begun.”

“Right, you pay me to do my job,” she spoke sternly. “And if my job ruins your day the moment it begins, I’m sorry, get a better life.”

“Understood, the blame is mine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You better be here in an hour.” Nadya hang up the phone first. The annoying sound of a call ending assaulted his hearing. The sensations of the outside were coming on too strong, they were attacking, they were frustrating. Everything was too sharp, too bright, too loud. His head was pounding with the reminders of how Misha had spent the last three days. It was nothing close to productive.

Mikhail got up from the bed with a groan of a man who was drinking for days straight. He wasn’t dry for an hour, as the saying was. He sighed, and groaned, and regretted the drinking. He would do it again. The clothes on the floor didn’t bother him. There was never anyone to pass judgement. There was never anyone to tell him to get his life together either. There was simply no one. Barefoot he walked across the room, picking up and collecting articles of clothing that would go in the wash now. There was an hour for him to get to the office, which wasn’t impossible, but it meant he had to move around his small apartment faster. And he doubted his mind and body could comprehend moving faster without sending the surroundings spinning. Everything was too overwhelming now. It wouldn’t get better for a while.

The cold water splashing against his face brought some sanity back. It felt good to be reminded the drinking had yet to kill him. It was nice to be reminded he had a job only he could do. It felt good that he was alive and capable of doing something. It was all a comforting lie to get over himself and his hangover.

The cold air of the outside smelled like that of a big and polluted city. The sounds were loud but distant, multiple but common. Nothing new was added to the picture he witnessed day after day. It’s an old painting he studied for hours, every stroke, every shade, every perspective too familiar. Nothing about it was new or surprising or remotely pleasant. It simply was and it was only ever changing in ways that didn’t matter. The city he got too familiar living in. The air, the sounds, the broken pavement underneath. The sun was hiding or finding comfort in the heavy grey clouds foretelling rain. The sun, too, didn’t want to see the city. This weather was for the better. The bright and shiny would sulk the mood. That would go against his already ruined day. Bulgakov stopped walking only to get the cigarettes out and start one. The smoke felt good in his lungs. It smelled better than the city too.

Fortunately, it didn’t start to rain while he was trying to get to his office on time. Doctor Bulgakov appeared in a somewhat acceptable state in. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it within the given time frame. And, unfortunately, there were no excuse for him available either.

“Late.” A stern, annoyed, but factual statement. The voice belonging to the woman of the hour. Mikhail shook of his coat and carelessly hung it. Nadejda was sitting at the receptionist table looking very annoyed herself, staring daggers at the other woman. Such were the days featuring Olga Danilovna.

“Hey there, Dan. It’s been a while,” Mikhail shifted his attention to the child in a wheelchair. He was a blonde boy, aged eleven, with a pet cage on his lap. The cage covered up with a blanket. By the size of it, Misha would guess it was fit for a rabbit.

“Hello, Doctor Misha,” the boy replied slowly, patting the blanket-covered cage as if the animal could feel it.

“I guess it’s your leg this time.”

“It hurts.” As honest as a child could be. Nothing wrong in admitting being in pain. Danila was staring at the wall mindlessly, repeating the same motions with his hand.

“Just hold on a little longer,” the doctor assured. “It will be over soon.”

Bulgakov unlocked the door to the examination office. It smelled the same as always: sickeningly familiar smell of disinfectant that turns sweet to senses over time. It smelled more like home that anything else. Nadya was always a good keeper. She kept his office as pristine as she kept his dirty secret. Well, the secret wasn’t awfully dirty but, as all secrets are, problematic to keep in check. It had to be controlled who knew and who didn’t. If too many people knew about it, life would become very uncomfortable very quick. And Mikhail was a person of comfort.

For the sake of formality, he put on white medical coat over his sweater. He took the cage off the boy’s lap and placed it on the table. Danila barely reacted to the change, dropping his hand on his lap the moment the cage was gone. Bulgakov peeked inside. Inside was, indeed, a rabbit.

“You really like animals, Doctor Misha. Where do you keep them all?” Danila asked. It was a gift of being a child to be so oblivious to the obvious.

“Me? No. I have a friend who lives on a farm. He adores them,” Bulgakov lied and did so naturally. At some point, he even thought of a name for said friend, how big the farm was and what animals lived there now. A well-repeated lie was a believable lie. The more it’s told, the more it turned into the truth of things. It wasn’t a stretch of intellectual thought to count all the pets that came into his office along with the patients and conclude a remarkably simple outcome: those pets never went home with him. But he wouldn’t break a child’s heart so cruelly. In six weeks, Dan’s leg would be perfectly healed. And the rabbit would be six weeks older. But six weeks is too long for his mother to wait. A broken bone is a note in the medical history of an upcoming sports star. Mikhail never bothered to remember what exactly Danila played.

Mikhail came to inspect the boy’s leg. The safest bet in his line of work is to assume the worst possible injury: broken. But on the plus size, it seemed to be broken only in one place.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on as tight as you can,” he said to the boy. Tiny hand grabbed around his neck without much force behind it. “On a count of three. One.” He carefully hooked his arms under Dan’s legs. “Two.” The doctor mentally braced himself. “Three.”

It wasn’t terribly difficult. It was only the weight of a child, after all. But Misha was having a terrible hangover and, thus, everything seemed more difficult than it should have been. Danila was now sitting on the exam table. Not that there was anything else to examine. And even if there was some injury unseen to the naked eye, he hardly had the equipment for it. Taking care of the child was a job for the mother. Bulgakov offered the headphones to the child. A useful thing to protect the child from a conversation that a child should not be privy to.

“Well, you know the drill, Dan,” Mikhail said, helping the boy to lie down comfortably on the table. “Headphones on, eyes closed, full relaxation.” The patient nodded, putting on the noise cancelling headphones on without questions. Danila was a good child just not equally blessed with good parents.

After making sure that Dan couldn’t hear a thing, Bulgakov returned to the rabbit in a cage. Lovely animal: calm, big, with a shiny fur. Misha took the rabbit in his arms and started to gently stroke the animal to calm it. It was warm, and alive, and completely defenseless.

“You look like you’ve been drinking for two days straight,” Olga Danilovna observed. Misha couldn’t tell if she was judging or simply stating. Not that he cared for either of those things, it was mere curiosity. He rarely could decipher any emotion within her unless it was anger and irritation.

After a quick mental math exercise, he forced a smile on his face. “Actually, it was three. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You think you are funny,” she mocked him. “Nothing worse than a man thinking himself funny.”

“I thought there was nothing better than a man acting like a clown,” Misha replied, grinning. “And nothing worse than a man thinking himself awfully charming.”

Olga shook her head, fake blonde hair perfectly styled with too much spray, and rolled her eyes. And that was the end of that conversation. However, there was something else on Bulgakov’s mind, something he doubted was worth mentioning. After all, it wasn’t any of his business. The last thing he needed to do is to pass any judgment on people who paid him. It was an excellent advice, most importantly, it was an instruction he gave himself. He couldn’t be wrong about that. And so, he didn’t listen.

“You drugged him,” he stated simply. There was barely any judgement in his voice. There was no point in judging a client, least of all, a client that wouldn’t listen. But a warning wasn’t something Olga Danilovna would accept either. A challenge, however, she could listen to.

“I gave him painkillers, yes,” replied Olga.

“No, I expected painkillers, that’s why he wasn’t crying by the time I showed up. I am saying you drugged him. I noticed the slowness in his reaction time. I saw his eyes up close.”

“What did you expect me to do? He is still a boy and can’t handle pain very well.”

Bulgakov sighed. What was he expecting to get by starting this conversation, anyway? Danila was his patient and nothing more. And the only reason the kid even was a patient was because his mother could afford to pay. It really wasn’t any of his business. He should forget about it. Mikhail continued to stroke the animal in his arms, offering whatever little comfort he could. And taking in all the comfort the rabbit could provide. It was alive, and warm, and with a soft fur. It felt lovely to hold a rabbit in his arms.

“I have to ask, though,” Olda Danilovna started to speak again, “would you be able to treat a concussion?”

“A concussion? Are you serious, Ol’?” he could even tell why he was getting riled up. “He’s eleven. Get him into swimming or some other Olympic sport.” Never mind, after some quick digging, he remembered that he had a personal dislike towards Olga Danilovna. Money can buy a service; it cannot buy positive personal bias unless for testifying in court.

“And what of it? Even if he wins the Olympics and brings home gold, he will peak before he’s twenty-five and then what?” Olga crossed her arms on her chest. Cold-blue flame flickering in her eyes dangerously — a warning. “Be a PE teacher? A swimming coach? No, thank you. And answer my question, damn you.”

“Sure, I can,” Mikhail answered, giving up. Arguing with a woman such as herself would only bring headache. Her voice was as sharp as her glare. And he was still recovering after a hangover.

“Would a rabbit suffice?” she continued to question.

“Depends on the severity,” the man shrugged. The rabbit in his arms was acting like a perfect companion. Perhaps, whatever little comfort he could offer was just enough to keep it calm. “If there is an open wound gushing out blood from his head, then no, you’ll have to find something bigger.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there are plenty of stray dogs on the streets.”

“Screw you.”

“Understandable.”

Cutting the conversation short, Bulgakov took his seat behind the table. The rabbit still cradled in his arms. He knew the pain that would follow render him useless, he’d collapse on the floor and then live with the embarrassment of such memory. Not that he cared for it, but for the sake of formality. The pain intensified and was only made worse by the remains of the hangover. If it made his head pound and body feel weak, now he could safely say he knew exactly what getting hit by a car felt like. It was a pain to the tips of his fingers, clouding his mind, rendering him mute and weak. The only positive about this state was that he was familiar with this. It was a pain that never got better; it never got worse. It was stagnant and familiar, which means he got used to it over time, with each use. He learned to live with it. Today just happened to be a little worse due to careless hangover. His hand rested on the still warm rabbit’s fur.

“You can take him, Ol’,” Bulgakov rasped as if dying from thirst. “Nadejda Andreevna will process the payment.”

Olga Danilovna didn’t waste a second more, running up to her son and getting him up from the table. In a hurry she could pass for a warn and loving mother, she even examined the previously broken leg. She asked if anything hurt. Olga could pass for a caring mother and not a woman who wanted to live out her ambitions through her son. With his leg perfectly healed, Danila wheeled the chair himself.

“Thank you, Doctor Misha,” the boy said with a smile before leaving the room. His reactions were a little faster this time around.

Mikhail, however, barely had the mental capacity left free from the pain to comprehend the words and offer a reply. Nonetheless, he managed. “Be careful next time, Dan.” He offered a feeble wave of his hand before the boy left. When the door closed, Misha slouched on the table, resting his forehead against the cold wood. It was offering no relief whatsoever, but it felt grounding. A sensation to tether him to reality, otherwise, he would allow himself to drift away from it. The rabbit’s fur felt less warm. That was even less of a comfort. It stopped mattering the moment he picked his phone this morning.

It was all a little useless. Nothing but a play of a repentant man. One actor theatre: he is on stage and is the audience. He didn’t count seconds, cared not for minutes it took for Nadya to come in through the door with a glass of water. He heard the door opening, her light steps, but didn’t want to raise his head just yet.

“You’ll survive, right?” Nadejda asked with amusement in her voice. He was rendered useless, true, but not helpless.

“Bastards live a long life.” A glass was placed on his table. Mikhail chuckled, amused by the thought that rushed through his pounding head. “Careful, dear, I’ll start to think you are a warm and caring human being.”

“That will be your grave mistake,” she replied.

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Take your pills and, please, with water. It’s not in my interest for you to choke on them.”

“I shall.”

“You want me to take care of that?” she asked coldly, uncaring. That was why their arrangement was most perfect. That was why he hired her and why she remained by his side. There were few reasons why she could stand to work for such a horrible, irresponsible boss. Not only because he could pay her a pretty number. Not only because they were legally bound by a contract, preventing Nadejda from getting her hefty paycheck in case of Bulgakov’s strange death. It wasn’t only because she could keep her pretty mouth perfectly shut. But because Nadejda was aware of her self-serving nature and did not care. Nadejda Andreevna did not, in fact, care for anything but herself.

Mikhail placed the rabbit on the table and took out a cigarette from inside his pocket. He put one in his mouth. Nadya wordlessly offered a lighter. The smoke felt good inside his lungs: warm, calming, and perfectly harmful.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it,” Mikhail replied, evenly breathing out cigarette smoke. He reached in the drawer to get the pills out. Something to dull the pain, something to bring more senses back to life. Nadya was leaving the room in her usual catlike steps.

“You’ll lock up, right?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.

“Sure,” Misha nodded.

“See you when I see you.”

“Right back at ya.”

The door closed behind her. Soon, the office would be completely empty. He would leave, locking up for the day. Soon, the pain from his body would disappear completely, gone without a trace. His state would return to what it was when he woke up. Soon, there would be nothing bothering him but the hangover. The pounding would get less intense as time passed. By the end of the day, he should fell relatively fine. Soon, he would be heading home where he’d get to be as miserable as he felt like to be. Soon. Right after he would bury this obviously very dead rabbit on the table.

[countryshitposts]

you got two black eyes from loving too hard

China is in love with his friend, but the clutches of homophobia are strong.

Warnings; homophobia and some smut scenes (cliffhanger too)

Zhongguo Renmin would lie if he says Éguó did not give him the same feelings as his father had once did.

(No matter how many times he scolds and berate himself for this, he can't stop these sinful thoughts spinning around his mind and manipulating his heart to do countless of atrocious acts that will leave him reeling for the next eternity.)

Unlike Sulian, however, Éguó's feelings towards Renmin was soft and genuine friendship, preserved for the best and most important people in his life. There is nothing sinful behind his honey-laced voice, soft touches puncturing and opening Renmin's skin alive, and that blinding and beautiful smile that rivals- no, not the sun, but Sulian himself.

Oh heavens above, no matter how many countless times he has told himself that homosexuals are disgusting and horrible, he falls with a man.

A man who does not reciprocate the same feelings towards him, a final blow to his stone cold heart and solidifying completely.

He had to fall in love with two men in the same family branch.

When Renmin realizes he is developing alien feelings towards Éguó (he tries to remember when he had fallen in love with he) the man had tried - yet failed - to accomplish completely abolishing his feelings for him. He cannot make another mistake again, he cannot have his heart broken to tiny pieces once again.

(Whether the mistake be he and Sulian's failure of a relationship or being gay, it is truly a mystery to him.)

Renmin tries to act casual after his outbreak of feelings started, a manifestation of butterflies trying to rip his stomach open and to fly out of there after tearing him piece by piece until he's nothing but a something, a someone that had once been alive and so in love. But Éguó was absolutely not helping; his twinkling gray eyes and delighted smile painting across his features whenever Renmin enters a room as close as he, the ultimately drunk nights they keep having to satisfy themselves, his cold voice melting whenever Renmin is around makes him all the more warmer and the feelings worse to handle and tolerate than before.

(He remembered trembling in front of a mirror, staring at his reflection like it is the most sinful thing in earth and rips out many a strand of his dark hair to emphasize just how dim-witted he is.)

He tries hard to hide these feelings that will ruin his and Éguó's friendship, which horrifyingly challenging and difficult to manage whenever Éguó would rant about the homos running around his land (Renmin would flinch at the slightest mention he hates gays before laughing pleasantly and saying they're all repulsive); stranger - or friendly - women who'd talk or flirt with his friend to the point that something inside of Renmin wanted to make them disappear like those damned protesters (he insists that he just felt left out whenever Éguó talks to someone else- he had simply laughed and patted Renmin on the back and comforted him by saying he will always be there for him and his heart had leapt); and the ever tortorous game that is intimacy, with Éguó's gentle and soft touches absolutely making him melt.

(One time he and Russia went camping - it had reminded him too much of Soviet too - and he had forgotten one of his sleeping bags and insisted he can sleep outside with no cover at all but Russia had argued he might grow cold and he did not want that to happen.

So Renmin had to handle being caressed by his good friend for the rest of the night, sleepless as he feels Russia's arm around his waist, holding him close and soft breaths on the nape of his neck, making Renmin absolutely warm.

And cold at the same time.)

Of course, he is quite discreet with his emotions and feelings, preferring to keep them in a box locked by heart and brain to all. Éguó will never know of his sinful feelings towards he and risk their vulnerable friendship.

Then the New Year's Eve party drops by like a bomb that will predict the unforeseen future.

Renmin looks at the reflection at the mirror, taking in all the features he had grown to absolutely loathe over the years- but he cannot help but shake off the insults he had created for himself. He hums a small song in his head as he buttons his shirt up and takes a comb to brush strands of his hair. He hears someone open his bedroom door and turns to smile at Éguó, who returns it brighter and even more with a burning passion.

"Let me help with that, Kitay", Éguó's hands roam around China's clothing and buttoning up his sleeves with gentle hands made his heart skip a beat, face a little red as he calms himself down.

"Thank you", Renmin lets out a steely breath as he looks towards Russia- so breath taking in his casual outfit, highlighting his body, making Renmin's mind spam him with sinful and atrocious thoughts.

"Let's go now, shall we?"

-

The New Year's Eve party was even messier than the Christmas Party Fēilǜbīn had arranged less than a week ago.

(Honestly, Liánhéguó, the decorations were quite tasteless and bland, and most of the fairy lights are not even working properly. The food was quite horrible to the point he had to consult sink water for remedy.)

Renmin groans as he feels a presence near him and looks to find Měiguó with her own cigarette in her mouth, she smiles at Renmin, full of hidden spite and resentment (the feeling is mutual, so he does not mind).

"Awesome New Year's, huh?", she asks as she blows out a puff of cigarette to the grossly light polluted air- the stars are, to their disadvantage, being taken out by this reckoning force that is luminscent bright light. Sometimes Renmin wonders if the twinkling stars are even alive to consider the fact that they are too dim by now.

Renmin rolls his eyes, taking out his pipe, "Why are you asking me?"

America rolls her eyes, "'Cause you kissed Japan in the Christmas Party."

Renmin lightly smirks; a simple tug on the corner of his lips, really.

Ah, America must be quite jealous of the make-out scene in Spin the Bottle; he can still recall the fervor deep inside of him, wanting to claw Japan apart like they were some play thing that had opened up to him- before immediately backing off when Japan said they were asexual.

Of course, he and Éguó adressed the matter of the video where Renmin and Ríběn had kissed; Russia had just smiled pearly white and told him he understood it was a dare, with perfect honey voice and no passive-aggressive words, hands clasped around his lap like an obedient queen in front of her king, eyes glinting of genuine joy.

(Renmin could not help but smile a little when he sees Russia grit his teeth when Renmin was jokingly retelling his story of how he made out with Ríběn like it was the end of the world. He had let out a tiny chuckle when Russia tilts his head and, with furrowed brows, tells China that Japan must've been a horrible kisser.

There was a hint of possessiveness and jealousy in Éguó's voice but China had paid no mind for it.)

At least he had fared well than Mongolia; the boy received an earful from Éguó after he watches the video of he carrying Hánguó to a private room to do the do. Mongolia was promising never to do that whole drama again, and vowing that he will take Belarus to dates every weekend or every free time.

"Don't worry, I don't like the bastard", Renmin tells America half-heartedly, "they're not my type."

The woman's brow lift up a bit, "Oh? Then who is?"

Renmin scowls, taking his pipe out of his mouth and wiping it, "That is absolutely none of your business."

He did not wait for America to catch up to him- and why should he? She is the one provoking him and asking the intrusive questions (albeit only one but still) and making him at the very least uncomfortable. He catches Éguó's eyes - who is arguing with Wūkèlán - and the former immediately pushes his brother out of the way and approaches Renmin with a tired smile.

"Your friend - Filippiny, was it? - asked everyone to join truth or dare."

Renmin sighs as he puts an arm around Éguó, "As long as you're joining, I'll come." Russia's eyes glint.

"Seriously? Hell yeah."

Russia is absolutely wasted and shit-faced after many a shots of vodka and wine from the secret stash Canada had brought to the party. Renmin holds a shot glass of vodka while trying to hide his red face from Éguó, who is currently laughing and head on his lap, the source of his embarrassment.

From the corner of Renmin's eye, he sees America look at them with a troublesome smirk, and Renmin knows she's planning something.

He hears Ríběn and Hánguó arguing near the buffet- the latter was screaming and shouting, voice going an octave higher to anyone's liking - it is too irritating, next time Hánguó will break glass - while Ríběn, acting as the more 'level-headed' of the two crosses their arms while softly bickering with the flailing man in front of him, frowning and lips pursed to a thin line (although this would be expected from they; Japan is never one for coaxing someone to a fight or openly gloating).

(Japan had used up all their diabolical, rancid smirks in their second life, the shrugs limited to gestures they do not know of, cruel words replaced with annoyed tones and passive-agressive wording as if the many bombs America had planted on their land and Sulian completely making Teikoku surrender made them use up their malice to the point it had all went dry.)

He pays them no mind- they can handle a fight or two until they realize they are both embarrassing themselves.

"So", a voice calls out, and Renmin perks up from a stupidly laughing and drunk Russia - he is in love with his beautiful laugh too - and finds Canada, with a smirk on his face, red eyes looking straight at Renmin and Éguó. "are you guys, like, fucking?"

Renmin completely sputters; he should not be surprised at the inappropriate question he had just uttered out, but he sprays the vodka he is drinking all over his clothes and on Éguó's face, who seems to be too much in a bliss to care what his friend had just done. Renmin picks up his shattered dignity and glares at Canada who remains confident.

"Did you realize what you just said?", he asks as he unconsciously pets Éguó's short light hair, soft underneath his fingers and absolutely making him warm inside. "We're not fucking- we're friends."

"Comrades", Éguó slurs with a small smile. "We're fucking comrades."

(Renmin's face turns a light shade of red- he did not know if Éguó is backing his claim that they are only comrades or if he is just very drunk to the point he had no idea whether he's humiliating the hell out of himself.)

"You aren't fucking yet, but you will fuck", Philip says not far from them, eyes only on his phone. His statement releases a few snickers from the room, directed towards an embarrassed Renmin and a drunk Éguó.

Renmin pinches the bridge of his nose, ignoring the hushed conversation and a few laughs surrounding him; he coaxes Éguó to stand up so he can leave himself, his lungs heaving and breathing, making him wish for another smoke. He takes his pipe out of his pocket once again and starts to light it up.

(From Renmin's personal experience, smoking is much better than snorting cocaine or any types of drugs- the inhalants may put him towards the path of ecstasy and relief, but he'd resume such depressing state soon after the damned drugs supposedly enlightening his life goes down the drain.)

He opens the door outside, receiving the chilly cold air with a small sigh, lips parting as he brings his pipe towards his mouth, the smoke forming like a wisp and trailing to the moon, despite the fact it is far away, in space, in the atmospheres beyond where he resides. Renmin holds his pipe, wanting to savor the relief, when he hears the door open. He sighs loudly (he has no time for his composure to remain in him), turning to find-

A drunk, stumbling Russia?

"Kitay." His name in Russian sounds so... so exotic, like Éguó is trying to spell out his name in the most unique of ways, tying the string of love Renmin tries to loosen closer, even closer to his friend. Renmin had tried hard to pull these strings of love away from him, from Éguó- yet Earth treats them like porcelain, shaping and weaving their love story to appease their audience from beyond this realm, beyond the naked eye, because they are only tools to this sickening love scheme that heavens above had made. He looks at his friend with a slight smile playing on his lips, puffing smoke out from his mouth as he watches Éguó stumble to his direction before chuckling and helping the poor drunk man up.

Renmin can smell his vodka-laced breath, but he did not lurch at the stench; he has been far too used to his friends addiction to drinking, it has become second nature for the both of them. China would be the sober one, helping Russia get to his knees with the shivering hope he can actually walk, and not the other way around; China will always drink intoxicating and alcoholic drinks in private, hating the way these drinks burn his throat and make him feel the onslaught of an oncoming headache the morrow.

"Shall we head to your place?", Renmin asks his friend softly (a tone that he will only use towards dearest friends and no one else), but the man whom Renmin is supporting shakes his head.

"No... yours." Renmin nods, as he - while holding his taller and much larger friend - towards his car, grunting and stumbling.

(It wasn't because Éguó was heavy, no, but it is due to how his friend just leans on him. Renmin is quite strong and can carry Russia with no problem, thank you very much.)

He puts Éguó on the passenger's seat, safely putting his seatbelt on and hears a storm of Russian swear words - many of which are now familiar to his ears - but still think of these strange mutterings as music to his ears. Yes, love can deafen a man's ears.

Renmin starts his car, closing the doors and locking it (because Éguó has the fatal fascination of opening cars when it's in motion while drunk) and stepping on the breaks to drive silently throughout the night. He'd rather wonder about the many theories of existence and the different planes he exists upon rather than how Russia is still oblivious of Renmin's feelings, but, he is grateful this way.

They got to Renmin's place in absolutely no time, like time has slowed down and that the night is still young, still fragile, despite the fact it is midnight and the moon is shining a bright light. He parks the car near his home, looking at Éguó who - surprisingly - is trying to put himself to sleep.

Renmin loves the warmth surrounding him as he props Éguó up, who was pretty sleepy from the way he breathes evenly. Renmin smiles faintly, opening the door all by himself as he makes his way towards the guest room, and plopping Éguó down on the soft bed, causing the man to whine.

"Kitay." Renmin stops, looking at Russia with a questioning look. The man on the bed motions for him to come near them, and Renmin obliges; perhaps they need a drink, after all, they will have a horrible hangover tomorrow, or maybe they want to greet him a good night before they drift off to a heavy sleep, or he wants both of them to be in the same bed, sleeping under the covers-

He absolutely did not expect lips on his mouth, and the hard grasp of his shoulders and pushing him down towards Éguó's bigger and much muscular body. Renmin hides a gasp as his friend's (will he still call him friend after this?) tongue asks to enter his closed mouth, still feeling the hot breath on his lips and mouth, the hands holding onto his legs, the... arousal growing in him. He denies Russia the permission to guide him across the caves of his mouth, trying - half-heartedly - to escape his firm grip but Russia bites his lower lip and Renmin yelps; forcing Russia's tongue to enter.

He shudders; he remembers feeling this way when he and Soviet Union lost their virginity to each other, the hot and warmest touches resonating in them as they tear one another apart, biting and kicking and absolutely loving the way their sinful touches go lower, lower, lower.

He promises himself never to do it again, after his secret marriage with Sulian was annulled- null.

Then for the first time in decades, he opens his body up for his friend.

And his friend just so happens to be the once love of his life.

(Technically, Éguó has replaced Sulian with that title, now Sulian is just a void deep in Renmin's mind, calling out to him, wishing for him to return to his arms but he refuses, turning his back on him.)

As Éguó's tongue snakes up towards his cave, tasting, exploring the wet taverns of his mouth, China didn't notice one of Russia's hands going towards his lower body, clutching his growing arousal through his pants. Renmin moans as he feels him carress and make it even harder, letting himself become weak, surrendering himself to Russia. He feels him smile as he breaks the kiss, with Renmin whining from the loss of the heat in his tongue, before embarrassingly covering his mouth (either from the needy whine or realizing he has a trail of saliva coming down from his throat, he will never know), but Éguó gently traces his cheeks with his fingers, while his other hand pleasures Renmin's arousal.

"For all these years", Éguó breathes, hot on his face, "after teasing me, toying with me, playing with me for an unneeded amount of time, I finally have you in my hands." With a grunt, Russia reverses their position, now Russia is straddling Renmin and grinding on his legs and Renmin whining and moaning, arching his back so his arousal can hit Russia's leg for more friction. Russia tuts, unzipping his pants and boxers to let his member out, and Renmin gasps as the cold air hits him, enveloping and wrapping him around as the other man above him takes off his own shirt to let Renmin see the glory of he being shirtless.

(Well, it's not very surprising at the least- he and Russia had been taking their shirts off one another, making the former too heated to even function at the sight of Russia's shirtless and looking at himself and asking why he does not look like a wax statue unlike his friend, flawless and scarless and undaunting, looking at Renmin with a pointed look as if he's waiting for him to take his shirt off so they can bathe in a river spring during their camping trip-)

Renmin gasps as he feels a warm feeling surrounding his length, the tongue like a heatwave of many a desserts trying to puncture and make Renmin collapse to no effort at all. The hands snaking up his thighs, indicating factor that they are both going to do this scandalous and disgusting doing, and Renmin will experience another taking of his virginity and this time by Sulian's son.

He grips onto the covers, making a mental note that after all this is over, this... nightmare dream is over, he must take Éguó to another room to fabricate evidence they had done anything horrible at all. Russia must not know; if he does, he will trash around and throw a tantrum when he realized what he had done to Renmin and stop talking to him for the rest of his life.

A part of Renmin wanted to push Éguó off, away from him, and escape through the doors he knows he should have gone through before Russia wishes to talk to him (who is he to deny his friend a request?) but the part of desire wanted this, this momentous occassion to happen, where he is pinned down by Éguó and kissing him with a burning passion, marking him as his and always will be his, subduing him, loving him and treating him roughly to a varying degree and caring for him afterwards.

He listens to the latter part of his as he feels a pool in his stomach, wanting to be released into Russia's mouth, who is still working him up, ruining him, making him whine like the needy baby he was. China grits his teeth, as Russia licks up the length of his member and he cries;

"Éguó, I'm going to-" he screams as he unleashes a torrent of liquid into the man's mouth, white liquid staining Russia's face slightly and Renmin's chest; he breathes, shaking, embarrassed at the mess he made and wondering how his friend would react to this.

(Would he inexplicably tease him? Play and toy with him until he breaks? Would he encourage him release after release or would he just hammer down into him?)

"Aw, look at you, making a mess before we actually get the fun started", Russia coos, making Renmin flustered to even function, feeling himself practically die of embarrassment- he reminds himself to have a much firmer resolve, not giving into the pooling desire nor the pleasure Éguó has given him.

(He remembers the subtle touches Sulian does underneath the table, every time they'd had dinner together; the way his hands roam around Renmin's thigh as he eats or talks, trying to get a whine out of him to drop his spoon force his mouth to form a whine of all sorts. He remembers Sulian's cheeky smirk, lust-filled eyes and golden eyes staring back at his, waiting.

Renmin could not even last a playing and teasing with Russia's father, already pleading with the man on top of him to finish him off.)

"Do you have any lube?", Russia asks as he searches the room - the guest room, Renmin's mind supplies - for any possible places he could potentially have hidden any form of lubricant, and China absolutely knows where they are.

"I have them in my room...", he says suggestively, propping himself up with his hands, still under Russia's body, feeling his erect length on his thighs.

(Needless to say, he is just as turned on as Éguó was.)

Russia raises a brow, "Oh? Then go get it, Kitay." The way he says his name in Russian makes Renmin want to grind into him, pleading with him to finally pleasure him in the most abstract of ways, touching him in certain parts friends absolutely do not touch, ramming into him las he arches his back to get hit with more and more pleasure, screaming and biting his lips as Russia can go on and on.

China nods, and Russia gets up for the man beneath him to go fetch the lube in his room-

(This is the chance; to run straight to his room and lock the door, breathless and sweating and currently in a state of shock and heartbreak, quietly and slowly leaning down to cry, hoping Éguó would forget what has happened in the morning- to greet Russia with a smile and a cup of coffee in his wake, talking casually with no mention of their heated night that almost delved into the passion and-)

Renmin takes the bottle of lube from the drawers; full of toys, plugs, and every mention of sex ever. He remembers how he pulls them out whenever he was heated, tugging at them, panting as they enter him, loving the way they pleasure him yet hating the way they are not real skin. (And maybe the fact he wants to play with his entrance more than a healthy dose, yes.) He comes back to Russia, who has now stripped from his clothes; China's eye trail down from Russia's sweat-filled chest down towards his-

"We aren't supposed to do this", Renmin chokes - either from the size of it or from the sinful deed - looking at his friend dead in the eye. They were only supposed to be friends, comrades, brothers without a blood, not whatever sick and mangled game they are playing right now. There was something hot on his eye, turning the world blurry until he blinks, unleashing a warm trail down his cheeks. "W-we're supposed to be j-just brothers-"

He covers his mouth as he chokes back a sob- no matter how much his sick and disgusting mind wanted the man in front of him, nude and vulnerable, they could not do this. He feels two hands on his shoulders, but he does not dare look up from his hands.

Many thoughts ring in his mind at once.

He did not want this.

This is sinful and against what the two of them have stated.

He did not want to be subdued, to be a part of another's desire playing by.

But the sinful mind of his only pays attention to melting the icy desire frozen by a block of ice.

He wanted this.

He oh so wanted this.

It makes his sob even harder, as Russia's hands play with his hair before letting him lean into his chest - Renmin can smell the pure vodka and obnoxious amount of perfume on the other's - Éguó's arms snaking around China's back, tracing his finger tips on his scars, soothingly rubbing his back as Renmin continues to sob and choke and cough.

After a few more soft whispers in his ear, the quick kisses on the nape of his neck, and the feeling of Éguó's strong and sturdy arms snaking up and down his back did Renmin finally calm down, looking up at the taller's grey eyes, a mix of lust, desire, and concern.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?", Éguó asks, "before you are my lover, you are my friend."

Without a beat, Renmin kisses Éguó, to the latter's surprise, a choked sound coming from the other man as he holds the both of them closer, together, a perfect cadence of their love residing in the room, echoing as their hearts beat as one, creating a symphony only their skin can hear and feel. And Russia's soft grip becomes firm, calloused fingers digging into his back, deepening the kiss as he feels Renmin whine for even more.

No more was Renmin's intellect.

It has been overcome by the overwhelming amount of desire, his soul wanting this, wanting him to submit, to play the role of the girl.

Renmin then feels the other weigh into him, and he feels himself being pushed towards the general comforts of the bed, legs spread out, arms above him which are being held at the wrists by Éguó, looking at him with the utmost prosperity of lust. Renmin breathes in shallowly; they were about to do this, and nothing is stopping them.

-

He knows he should not be savoring this. Renmin bites his lip, trying to keep the tears inside of himself despite the fact his tear ducts has severely betrayed him during the night, with Éguó testing his patience and desire, moving up and down, smirking at the sight of China so submissive, whining and mewling as he thrusts into his tight caves with first his slender fingers and then with his entire length. Renmin remembered being a mess, begging, wanting more, wanting him to thrust into a spot as his back arches and he holds onto Russia for dear comfort.

But now the session is done, he cannot just construct the walls that had been broken by just one flicker of an eye from Russia, turning his insides to soft jelly. He feels the short breathes on his neck - although he is used to it by many camping trips and soft platonic cuddles at the back of the car - and the long hands wrapping around him, ensuring that he is there, safely tucked, and safe. Other times, he would snuggle deeper into Russia, but this was not those other times; they slept with each other, fucked, and they both enjoyed every moment of it.

Renmin tries not to get the horrible tendrils of sleep take him to dreamland until morning when Éguó realizes what they both had done and leave his home, scarred. How was he going to tell Éguó? Was he going to make himself forget all about this, give Russia a doll smile as he wakes up with a terrible hangover? Or will he tell the truth and risk their damned friendship he has built himself upon?

Renmin closes his eyes, trying to still his excited and enamouring heart, plunging up scenarios for him to discuss before his brain denies it all.

Then his visions supply him with a dream; a dream where he and Russia are actual lovers, in a world where they weren't so blatantly homophobic, reaching out into the other universes to make them get a hold of their relationship.

(Russia would touch his cheek passionately, caressing him and Renmin sighing as he leans into his touch with a sigh and a smile, knowing that he'd only be his for the rest of his life.

"I am your lover", Renmin would say with such love in his eyes, kissing the top of Russia's forehead, brushing away his blonde hair and Éguó will hold him closer, kissing him to the moon and back with a burning passion, as if they accepted the fact they are in love in the first place. Renmin will feel a hand on his hip, leaning in and deepening the kiss.

After they break, Russia will smile warmly, his hands ruffling China's dark hair and saying, "I am your lover as well."

And they will love, love with all their hearts- draw little heart strings over their shoulders, kiss in the sunset unhindered, touch each other in parts they thought will be sinful and disgusting, but they will not care anymore.

They are lovers.)

Renmin wants to scream.

Why is he like this.

That is not a question.

-

China didn't even notice he had given in to the lullabies of sleep rocking him back and forth until he is shoved off the bed. He yelps as he feels the hard floors and the absolute pain in his back. He opens his eye, then looks up at Éguó, looking panicked and covering himself with the stain blankets. His mind is blank first, asking himself why Russia had just shoved him off the bed, then a fast forward of all his memories from last night gives his stomach a lurch.

"Gǒu shǐ... Èluósī... Wǒ...", he chokes, trying to find his voice, "kěyǐ jiěshì."

Éguó shakes his head, taking a step back, his blue eyes full of horror as he realizes what he'd done. "Net, there is nothing to explain, Kitay."

[hejer-maomao]

Can I make a request in how the Ikerev suitors react to a MC with Depression? If you aren't comfortable writing this, I understand.

… This right here has to be the most challenging request I have ever received and I’m honestly terrified of writing it.

I have hesitated for some time now and I even thought of simply turning you down because depression is not an easy topic to write about. But when I thought of the possibility of these HCs somehow making anyone, anyone, out there feel a little bit better about themselves, then I will force myself out of my comfort zone for it.

Just few words of serious warning here. I am not an expert on mental illnesses nor am I a doctor. Although I am not exactly mentally healthy myself, I have never been diagnosed with depression either. I will try my best to make this as accurate as possible, based on my readings, my own experience and my friends’ struggles. So, please, do not hesitate to tell me if something is erroneous or can potentially offend or trigger anyone who has depression and I will immediately take this post down, you have my word.

The purpose of these HCs will be to heal and to comfort and NOT to belittle or mock depression.

For all of you out there, who are battling with depression, you are real warriors my friends and I pray to God you never stop fighting. Keep clinging to hope and never be ashamed to seek out help. Many people , including myself, are always ready to hear you out. My ask box is also open for everyone who simply wants an ear to listen.

Trigger Warning: Depression.

Ikemen Revolution Suitors Reacting to an MC with Depression:

Lancelot:

Lancelot would quietly listen to you as you confess everything to him, his eyes never leaving your face, his hands gently enveloping your cold ones.

Once he is sure you have said it all, Lancelot will slowly guide your body to face his own, bring his face closer to yours and solemnly say, “You’re not a burden. You’re a strong woman. So strong. But I’m here now, so try to lean on me even for a while.”

Lancelot would tightly embrace your trembling body with his strong arms, trapping you against the solid warmth of his chest, and burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving behind soft kisses on your skin.

His hands would come up to pat your hair, tightening his hold on you further as soon as he begins to hear your sobs echoing in the room. After letting you cry your heart out, the King of Hearts would gently pick you up and carry you to the bed. Carefully tucking you under the covers, he would place a soothing kiss on your forehead. 

Lancelot will not leave your side for the rest of the night, nor the night after it as well as all nights for the rest of your lives.

Just like you have managed to save him from the throes of despair, supported him when he was distant and cold, and forgave his cruelest actions, Lancelot took an oath to himself to never stray away from your side, and to hold your hand as you find your way out of the darkness inside your head.

Jonah:

As soon as the words left your lips, it would take some time for Jonah to process the situation and for his brain to register the new information. When it fully sinks in, Jonah’s eyes would immediately begin to water, his cheeks taking on a soft shade of red before he chokes out. “How can you be so strong?”

Jonah would gently hold your hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing each and every knuckle of yours before nuzzling your palm against his own cheeks. Throwing his arms around you in a hug, Jonah would gently whisper how strong, how fierce and how beautiful you are, because even in your darkest hours, you never gave up on yourself.

The Queen of Hearts would then puff up his chest and slightly pout, his eyes still red from all the tears he shed and order you to stay put until be comes back. Jonah would then leave for a few minutes before returning with a plate full of sweet treats, plopping next to you on the sofa and shoving them into your mouth. For each cookie you successfully eat, Jonah would reward you with a gently peck on your lips, softly smiling at you as you slowly make your way through the desserts, Pine nestled quietly on your lap.

Jonah cannot be prouder of you after your confession. He always respected the incredible woman he fell in love with right from the start, but knowing how much pain and suffering you had to go through on a daily basis made Jonah wants to hold you inside his arms and never let you go.

You’re the bravest soldier Jonah has ever met.

Edgar:

Edgar’s surprise in reaction to your words barely lasts for a few seconds before his regular, soft smile returns to his lips. He adorably tilts his head and softly tells you, “I love you regardless of anything.”

For Edgar, there’s nothing you can say to him that can make his love for you decrease even by a mere inch. After all, you have accepted him wholly, with his bloody past and disappointing actions, deceiving nature and horrible secrets. How can he not do the same for you?

The Jack of Hearts knows all about self-loathing and the awful feelings of anguish and hopelessness. Even now, Edgar still hasn’t learned how to completely let go of his past, nor how to accept that this cruel world actually deserves to be loved. 

Edgar will hold your hand in his, and will ask you to stay by his side as you both learn, bit by bit, to love life again and see that there’s hope even in the midst of the darkest nights.

If Edgar managed to return from hell itself with your help, then you have no doubts that he will give up everything he has in order for you to keep on living and learn how to smile again.

Zero:

Zero’s first words to you would be, “It’s okay to feel this way,” as he tightly holds your hand, his eyes trembling with raw emotions. 

Zero is no stranger to the feeling of utter emptiness in one’s chest. He has, for very long time now, felt as if he does not belong anywhere, as if he is destined to feel lost and meaningless for the rest of his life.

So Zero, knowing that you feel almost the same as he, if not worse, smiles gently at you and squeezes your hand a bit tighter. Just as you chose to see past his flaws and his deeply-rooted insecurities, Zero will forever see you as the strong warrior you are. In your dark just as your bright days, Zero promises he will be there. He will smile when you do and hold you close whenever you feel like crying. He will give you space and time whenever you need them and stick close to you if you feel like the world is crashing around you.

Zero will be more than content to simply walk by your side and match your pace. He will be there when you feel courageous enough to take baby steps towards healing and he will never abandon you even when you shut yourself in your room and come so close to giving everything up. Zero will be there, through it all. So do not be afraid, and lean on his sturdy back, and let his gentle warmth and kind heart heal your very soul.

Kyle:

“Is there anything I can do to help?” would be Kyle’s softly whispered words as he gently holds you close to his chest, one hand patting the crown of your head, tousling your hair in a familiar gesture.

Kyle might not be a psychologist, but as a doctor, he knows that talking about one’s fears and doubts might prove quiet efficient in the process of healing. He is more than ready to introduce you to one of his psychologists friends, whom he has absolute trust in their skills. But if you do not feel ready to talk to anyone yet, Kyle will respect your decision and encourage you to take as much time as you need. He will be there, whichever choice you make.

Kyle’s soft heart and awkward kindness will shine through your darkest days as his rough hands will guide you back to the surface every time you feel like you’re drowning. Kyle will use every means in his hands to bring you back to health, all the while making sure he does not force you beyond your limits. 

His golden eyes will never stray from you as he alternates between gently pushing you towards the sun and tenderly enveloping you in the safety of your shared room. No matter how hard things become, Kyle will be there with his silly smiles and stupid jokes, and he will repeatedly save you whenever you feel too tired to even stand on your own.

Ray:

Ray’s emerald eyes would tremble for so long, his hands softly rubbing your back as he quietly waits for you to finish speaking before he calmly whisperer: “There is hope.”

Ray is not excessively optimistic, nor is he unreasonably idealistic. He simply knows the woman he loves and he knows what she is capable of. He is certain that she will make it through it all, no matter how many times she falls, no matter how much it bleeds and hurts, he knows you will get back up even if you choose to stay down for some time, gathering up your strength.

Ray fell in love with a real fighter, same as him. And just like he never gave up on his own self for years, Ray will undoubtedly never give up on you either.

He knows it’s hard. He knows how painful it is to get up in the morning when all you want to do is to lay in bed, crying your heart out, doing nothing at all. He knows how tedious life can become, when all the people around you are smiling and enjoying themselves while you feel like suffocating with each breath you take, your insecurities piling up on your shoulders, threatening o pull you under the tide at any given chance.

Be ready to be completely accepted by this man. All of you, from head to toe, will be embraced by Ray as he walks you the same road as you towards self-healing. 

Take as much time as you need with this man by your side. With Belle gathered in his arms, he will follow you to the ends of the world.

Sirius:

Sirius will be silent for a long while after you finish talking. He will hold your hands between his own, his fingers tenderly caressing your knuckles, as he thinks for a while.

Once he reaches his final conclusion, Sirius will hum in approval before getting up, dragging you with him in the process.

“Let me help,” is Sirius’ next words as he wears his usual, familiar smile.

You will pampered to death by this man. Do you feel like staying at your room all day without doing nothing at all? Sirius will make sure you have soft blankets, water and warm meals whenever the darkness in your head gets too overwhelming. Do you feel a little bit better, ready to go out for a while? Sirius will also be there, hand intertwined with yours, as he allows to pick whichever destination you want to go to, without ever pushing you too far or forcing you do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

Life is unfair, and Sirius is well aware if that. Although he cannot exactly banish your doubts and insecurities, he will be there to deny them all and remind you how much you are loved and that when all of this is over, he will still be here and so will you.

Seth:

Ever wondered how it would feel if you had someone who understands your very soul without even needing to speak? Well, Seth will become that person for you.

You don’t even need to spell everything out, Seth would be up on his feet declaring that you’ll get through this together. 

Just like Sirius, Seth will be able to read your every mood and act according to your feelings for the day. He will alternate between providing you with days full with shopping trips, delicious food and girls’ talk and others simply spent watching classical movies in the darkness of your shared room, curled up together under the blankets, munching on simple treats.

Don’t hesitate to lay everything bare to this man and rely on him to hold your hand as you fight your way through it all to reach the surface. Seth will never judge you nor deny any of your efforts. Whether you only manage to get up from your bed in the morning or spend an entire day smiling or laughing, Seth will be proud of you regardless.

Harr:

“I love you”, is Harr’s response to your confession.

For him, a strong fighter like you who managed to help him out of his own darkness is more than capable to save herself, but he will be there with you, each step of the way, keeping you safe from the demons inside your head, and holding your hand whenever it feels too much to bear.

Harr’s kindness and concern will mainly show in actions rather than words. A cup of warm chocolate and soft tissues after you finish sobbing your heart out for no reason. Your favorite flower appearing right beside your pillow after you spent an entire day holed up in your room, refusing to let anyone inside.

Small acts like these will contentiously prove Harr’s determination to share his warmth with you, as you both find your ways towards loving yourselves and loving this world.

Oliver:

Clenching his teeth in irritation, Oliver will most certainty tell you how much of an idiot you are, if you thought this will change anything between you.

“You chose me, so don’t go around trying to escape. You’re stuck with me, so deal with it. You won’t drive me away.”

Oliver’s behavior will not undergo any major changes after your declaration. He will still treat you the same way since he does not consider you to be any different. In his eyes, you’re the same silly woman he fell in love with. It doesn’t matter for him that at certain days, you would feel too empty to even get up from the bed or too tired to even brush your hair or drink your coffee. It does not matter because Oliver will be there in any case, every day, whether good or bad, and will kiss you good morning, insult your bed hair before threading his fingers through it, tenderly kissing its ends.

Oliver is the same as ever, and his love for you will remain unchanged. He fell in love with a human after all, and he will embrace that human, with all of her mood swings and flaws.

Hey little fighter, soon things will be brighter ❤

[gentleoverdrive]

After the frenetic struggle faced by the two jogging buddies Alm and Lucina, the first weekend after the school term arrives. As Saturday breaks in, Ephraim finds himself an unlikely breakfast buddy. Will he be able to consume his tacos? And what of his carefully constructed image?

Saturday Morning: At Little Chalphy’s kitchen. (9 AM) Sitting at the cozy table within the kitchen, a young man was trying to help himself to the delicious treats two of his earnest dorm-mates helped prepare for the weekend. Thanks to the efforts of his twin sister and a certain Zofian boy, the tortillas Ephraim McFadden stuffed with delicious spit-grilled pork meat were a feast for a hangover that seems bent on haunting his morning. He felt, however, that the woman keeping him company was most definitely harshing his mellow with her prim and proper demeanor. Something had to be done and, heavens help him, he might have to be the one to do it. “Y’know, teach? If you keep coming here every single day, I’m pretty sure Cory ain’t the only one that’s gonna end up hating you” A delicate, dignified chuckle escaped her lips with the smallest of efforts. “Oh, you are such a joker, McFadden. Why would you dare suggest that my cute little sister does not love me back?” It felt like someone had sprinkled dusted jalapeño directly into his eyes. He absolutely doesn’t have the fortitude for this so early in the morning. “Because it’s Saturday morning, I’m trying to watch my breakfast and eat my goddamn cartoons, that aforementioned cute little sis of yours locked herself in her room and I’m pretty sure you have like 3 classes today in as many campuses. Now can I go back to my tacos?” “A young man eating by himself is just such a sad, sad sight to witness” “Aaaaannnd of course you’re not listening to me. Fantastic” Ephraim put his taco down and got off his seat. “Look, you might want to reconsider this whole endeavor of going after the one guy who managed to kick your ass; like I’m positive he already has his hands full being Anthiese’s super butler or whatever” He added, while looking for something within the fridge. “Plus, carving up his face seems like a very unintuitive way to net yourself a date, if we’re being honest” “Oh? And what would a dating master of such renown like yourself might suggest I do to hone my approach?” “Well, maybe try approaching that person you fancy like an equal? If you say something extreme as ‘Be mine!’ or putting them people in a pedestal, of course that’s gonna turn people off. We’re talking about a person with an agenda of their own, teach; if you treat that person you fancy like they’re either a prize to be earned or a mindless hunk of meat, of course the cold shoulder is the logical result” He grabbed the milk and a banana off the fridge. “Then again, some men love that, so what do I know?” “And yet he has remained every bit the polite gentleman towards me” Ephraim let out a drawn-out sigh while looking at the top shelves right next to the fridge, when he finally happened upon the bowl he was looking for. “That’s just common decency. Now tell me: Has he treated you any differently than he has literally anybody but Anthiese? Because she’s the one that gets the super duper, big, fancy, bells, cowbells and whistles pimped-out special deal, and I’m like… 90% sure that’s not just because she’s his employer” Ephraim placed the milk, banana and bowl right in front of Camilla before quickly moving to the opposite shelves. Slightly bemused at his seeming restlessness, she started following him around with her eyes. “Whatever do you mean? I see no such difference in the treatment he has given me at all when compared to his mistress” It was at that moment that Ephraim bumped his forehead against the bottom edge of the shelf. “D’ah! F—damn!” He briefly complained while rubbing his forehead, before finally chancing upon the thing he was looking for: chocolate-covered cereal; which he quickly placed in front of Camilla. “Are… owwwww… are you one hundred percent sure that you don’t see any difference, whatsoever, in how he treats you, your little sis, yours truly and the rest of the dorm plus however many peeps he interacts outside of here and how he treats the girl that walks with a skip in her step to school and sometimes even does a little happy dance whenever she so much as talks to him early morning?” “I sure wish I had the attention to detail you have” “Oh, for f— how is that information a secret to you?! You’ve been coming here for the past three days to stalk / harass Alm without fail. How—” A slam on the table interrupted him. “I. Am not. Harassing. Him” She closed the distance between them in a second as she grabbed his shirt’s neck, but Ephraim remained unfazed beyond raising his left eyebrow in mild surprise. “Sure, whatever” Suddenly, Ephraim jumped out at a realization. “Ah! You need a spoon and knife” “I don’t care what you think about me” Camilla’s usually easy-going expression had taken a turn for the sullen. “Psshyeah you do” He snorted after saying as much. He quickly made for the lower shelves this time and found a smaller-sized spoon, placing it to the left of the bowl while he looked at Camilla’s right eye. “Takes one to know one, after all; and you, Camilla Krakenberg, are so darn starved for the bare-assest of interactions and basic affection now that your little sis is out in the world on her own and benched your ass, that you’ve been harassing a kid whose only folly on this whole thing is that he interrupted you from unleashing the murder fury on some rapey idiot. Yes, I’m completely on your side in that said shithead probably had it coming. But why did you think that harming the him, not to mention THE CROWN PRINCESS OF A HALIDOM THAT REPRESENTS A CONTINENT THAT’S JUST FINALLY RECOVERING FROM A DEVASTATING WAR WAS A GOOD IDEA?” For a second, Camilla’s right eye betrayed no emotion… until Ephraim’s words found its target. She covered her mouth with her right hand, letting out the faintest of gasps as she slowly lowered her head, looking down at the table and suddenly looking back at her actions in a new, disturbing light. “Oh” “Oh indeed. Hell, you’re so desperate for interaction that you’re allowing a complete jackass to dress you down and smack your emotional ass all up in this bitch” If Ephraim was good at using his self-loathing for something, he wasn’t precisely subtle about it. But sometimes subtlety needs to take a rain-check. “You don’t know me at all” Even with how aggrieved Camilla sounded, hearing her spout that hackneyed phrase only reinforced Ephraim’s stance. “Perhaps I don’t. But this front you’re putting up? This commodity? It ain’t gonna do squat for you in the long term. Worst of all: I’m not telling you anything new, am I? Someone has trotted this out to you, if not verbatim, then at least more or less something similar to this spiel in the past, isn’t it?” In truth, nobody had given Camilla this kind of talk before. Now Camilla was looking down for the count, and Ephraim realized his words’ true weight almost right away. ‘Oh my gods, this is the first actual time she’s been given a ‘talk’ on this level, hasn’t she? Ugh, fuck my life’ His thoughts were now the real mess. ‘Now, whatever you do next, don’t try to comf—’ “Uh… wanna hug?” He spoke before further articulating that last thought. “… I’d like that” Her response blindsided him. ‘NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! You idiot! You absolute moron! YOU BIG. FUCKING. PALOOKA! Stop that shit right now. You stop it. StopItStopItStopItStopItStopIt—’ His head was going haywire, even as he tried to play it cool externally as he opened his arms. ‘No! Don’t Open Up! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, YOU DUMBASS?!’ Alas, it was too late. Now Camilla was letting out choked-out sobs as she buried her face on his right shoulder while her arms found firm comfort around his back. Meanwhile, Ephraim’s left hand patted her head, while his right one rested chastely on her mid-section. “There. That’s fine” When he briefly looked in the direction of the living room, he saw his sister, Corrin and Lucina staring dumb-founded at his current situation. ‘Are you ok?’ Eirika used sign language when she realized she had her brother’s attention. Since Ephraim had one of his hands in a somewhat compromised position, he had to improvise, so he gave his sister a thumbs-up, a wink using his right eye, and finally a combination of both his eyes and forming a rather awkward arrow with his left hand letting them know that the coast was clear and to head for the door. Eirika returned the thumbs up which she followed by tugging Corrin’s shirt so that they could get a move on. Lucina mouthed off a ‘Thank you!’ while Corrin simply waved at him. Once they left, Ephraim let out a sigh of relief. Coming to terms at Camilla’s hold on him not showing signs of stopping any time soon, the normally blunter of the two McFadden twins decided he might as well go the full nine yards and properly hug Camilla Krakenberg. ‘Well, whatever! Let this be my good deed for the day’ With his thoughts offering a respite, Ephraim grinned, not seemingly caring about the fact that his breakfast was getting colder.

Meanwhile… Outside Fjalar Rentals. (10 AM) Hector tried to get himself comfortable at the Rental Agency’s waiting lobby. “Man, these seats just plain aren’t designed for anybody with an actual ass” “Did I hear that just now? Is Hector Kormorane actively complaining about his resilient, powerful body in plain sight? Please, say it ain’t so” “Spare me the dumb quips, Eli” While deadpanning wasn’t his forte, Hector’s stink-eye game was strong indeed. “So, whaddya got there?” “Lemon-flavored and peach-flavored soda” Eliwood revealed two cans of soda. “So, which one’s gonna be?” “Hmm…” Hector deliberated for a moment before shrugging. “Eh, whichever one you don’t want is fine with me, man” “Fair enough” Eliwood hands his brother from another mother the Lemon-flavored beverage. “Pfft!” Hector was barely able to keep himself from guffawing. “Really now” The snickering was rather uncommon for a man who so often appeared like an open book to those closest to him. Eliwood’s eyes often did a lot of the talking for him, and in this case they showed a barely repressed need to smack his best friend upside the head. “So, why are we getting another rental car?” But more important that his need to visit a physical comeback was the query he just made. “Because” Hector’s cursory retort felt like he was dodging the topic. But Eliwood wasn’t having any of that. “Hec, Miss Eirika and Ephraim literally have a car that we can borrow whenever we need to, even if it’s for going on foolish errands; all we need is to do is let them know beforehand” “Dude, they were just being polite. They don’t actually expect us to ask them to borrow their car for reals in the first place” “Are you sure?” “I don’t know, Eli! I’m just saying. Do you think Miss Eirika’s gonna be all hunky dory with the potential prospects of either you or me getting busy in her car?” The quick back and forth between the Lycian league boys left one of them with much to think of. “... maybe?” Or perhaps not, it seems. Eliwood Faeris was, first and foremost, an idealist. “See? That’s your problem, Eli: You’re too much of an optimist” Hector was quick to latch on to that in order to try and get his best bud to be on his guard more from time to time.

“Hello, dears” As the voice that came from behind was a rather unfamiliar one, they both appeared unsure as to know how to react.

“See, I don’t think that’s a pro—AAAAAH!” “Dude, what’s your—G’AAAHHH!” They both went with their gut. An ungraceful result, all things considered. “Calm down, would you? She don’t bite or anything” “Not to be a douche nozzle or anything Ephs, but I think we’re within our rights to be spooked at seeing Teach Krakenberg with you on our day off” “Well, ya’ gotta start rolling with the punches better, then!” Hector slicked back the bangs off his forehead while looking at the person that, earlier in the week, had made an attempt on the life of two of his dorm mates, sighing once he was done fixing up his bangs properly. “I’ve held back my tongue due to Alm asking us to not be too hard on you. Little dude is a fucking trooper” “He is quite the catch, is he not? Hmmmmm… I wonder what will it—” “I was not finished” Hector slapped his left knee. “I’ve only known him and Luci for a little over a week, so I’m not gonna say that ‘oh! Best Friends Forever!’ or any of that sappy-ass nonsense. But I’m starting to get friendly with them; yes, Lucina is a pest of a girl whose constant curiosity drives me nuts, and yes, I sorely wish she would stop putting her foot in her mouth non-stop, but deep down she’s an OK kid. Hell, she very much feels like a little—” “AHHH, found it!” And before Hector could finish his sentence, his friend cut him off. “Dammit, Eli! I am pouring my heart out h—wait, what did you find?” “Remember when I told you that Ms. Anthiese looked familiar?” Hector’s eyebrows spoke volumes for him. “Whaddya mean?” He still felt like inquiring further, however. “Peep this right here” Eliwood shared his phone with Hector and the Ostian youth quickly found out what his oath brother meant. On the screen, a video played, with Anthiese herself appearing to hold a snow-white cat in her arms. Before long, both Ephraim and Camilla were hovering over them. Noticing this, Eliwood quickly rewound the video back to the beginning. The video description read… 366 likes / 5.2k reproductions ZofianCatLover ‘The cute cats of Sailane! Cannot miss it for anything in the world!’ #Traveling #Silesse #Sailane #Weekend #ZofianCatLover #OnePettingAtATime 2 hours ago. “Alm! Look at this plump little boy here!” Meanwhile, the video put her affectionate tones out in front when dangling her fingers above the aforementioned feline, which were rather odd for all three boys to see, especially given how composed the Zofian heiress behaved herself among them. “Isn’t he handsome?” “He sure is!” Even with the less-than-stellar audio, all 4 of them could recognize that voice immediately. For a few seconds after the video looped back to the beginning, everyone kept silent. “Whoa. WHAT? Is that the same ‘ice queen’ Riky has tried to get chummy with?” Among the currently present, nobody could buy just how sweet Anthiese Lima really sounded. Her calm, dignified disposition contrasted so badly with her current actions and tone on display. The biggest surprise, however, happened when the video got to the part where she reached with her right hand at the direction of the camera to grab the device; after a few seconds of shaky movements, Celica had stabilized the camera’s focus while her free arm found itself around the neck of a familiar young man. Alm himself looked supremely awkward standing around with Anthiese’s arm around him. The goofy and somewhat twitchy smile he was sporting while also holding the white cat in his arms spoke of the fact that he was probably the regular behind the camera lens in these videos. All hell broke loose, however, when she rested her head against Alm’s shoulder. “Oh my” While Camilla’s subdued response was expected… “NO WWWAAAAAYYYYY!”  Ephraim, Hector and Eliwood’s exclamation fetched a lot of stares from the people around them, especially so when they synched up their respective expressions of astonishment. Camilla looked somewhat askance by the juvenile outburst demonstrated by the trio of students. “Duuude!” “SWEET!” “You better believe!” Ephraim raised both hands up, which both the Lycian league youths immediately capitulated by high-fiving him. “So, what are the odds that they’re actually dating?” Eliwood’s query did not have a specific recipient. “That’s a 10/11 right there. No-brainer” Yet Ephraim felt confident enough replying to his junior. All of a sudden, Camilla felt even more out of place than before. “Why are you so invested in Alm and little Anthiese being an item?” “Because we’ve been here for a week and in that time we had—drumroll please Señor Ephraim” Ephraim obliged Faeris’ request by using Hector’s shoulder as a makeshift snare drum, while Eliwood and Hector took a deep breath. ♪ “4 insult challenges” ♫ “3 DC probations” ♫ “2 Cook-offs” ♪ “1 bungled kidnapping” In that moment, the trio stopped singing and alternated between tap-dancing and stomping around for a cool 5-second interlude. When their brief dance number came to an end, all three opted to strike a pose, using their left arm to motion a jazz hand in Camilla’s direction. ♪ “And a foiled muuuuurrrdeeer aaatteeempt!” ♫ Camilla was rather miffed at being reminded of the actions she performed a couple of days ago. Since she decided to be a good sport, however, the martial arts instructor decided to indulge the trio by offering a few claps for their attempts. “Riveting”   Before long, however, they were all interrupted by a man tapping on Hector’s shoulder. “Are you Hector Kormorane?” “Indeed! Whaddya got for me, buddy” “Well, given your previously stated satisfaction and user review from your first rental, we’ve thought… well, if you look to your left, you’ll see” Upon chancing a glance at the new rental they were being offered, both Eliwood Faeris and Hector Kormorane very loud, unbridled expressions of shock rendered them speechless for a spell. “It’s—” “A TRUE BEAUTY!” Both 3rd years ran towards the car, feeling as though it was a mirage bound to disappear before they could reach it. “Uh—” The rental agency employee was left feeling understandably stumped at both kids making a mad dash, especially with the key component still being in the palm of his hand. Luckily, one person remained with his feet down on earth. “It's fine, I’ll take the keys” And Ephraim did just that.

[charlesxavirs]

puppy love / cherik

charles has never had a dog. erik can’t believe it.  ( read on ao3 )

There aren’t many thing that surprise Erik Lehnsherr anymore when it comes to Charles.

Him taking honey in his tea instead of sugar didn’t come as any major shock, and you only had to take one look at his perpetually ruffled hair to know that the man was a restless sleeper. One by one, as Charles’s quirks were revealed to him, Erik catalogued and cherished every one, even his more questionable ones (the great sock-sock-shoe-shoe, sock-shoe-sock-shoe debate will forever go down in history as one of their most heated). Yet no matter how outlandish or seemingly random these facets of Charles’s personality were, not one of them took Erik by surprise. Endearing, yes. Frustrating, sometimes. But surprising? Never.

That’s why Erik has absolutely no idea how to feel at being completely gobsmacked at the latest revelation.

“What do you mean you don’t like dogs?” Erik gaped from his seat at the kitchen counter whilst Charles huffed at him, holding the teaspoon that stirred his morning tea with a grip that made Erik wince.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” he sighed. “It’s just that I’m unfamiliar with them, and I’m found at a bit of a loss around them. It’s not like we had anything of the sort growing up.”

At the edge of Erik’s mind, the usual warm presence turned a little colder, as it usually did when Charles’s childhood became the subject of the conversation. The fact that Charles had grown up without a dog had shocked Erik. He could see Brian Xavier now in an old study, a golden retriever sat steadfastly by his feet, or could easily imagine Sharon sporting a pompous puff of a poodle just to stay in fashion. Heck, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Kurt had a couple of bloodhounds round the place just to make him look like the epitome of the intimidating blueblood he paraded around as.

Then again, Erik thought it must have been for the best. Erik knows his Charles, and his Charles is far too loving for his own good, and anything Charles loved, Kurt found a way to use against him, and no animal on the planet deserved to be held to ransom by Kurt Marko.

Projecting a steady stream of love and contentment, Erik maneuvered himself so he was stood behind Charles, his arms clasped soundly around his waist and his nose buried in his chestnut locks. As the presence in his mind slowly melted back to it’s usual sunbeam warmth, Erik perched his chin on Charles’s shoulder and breathed in his heady scent of Earl Grey and sleep.

“You know, liebling, that actually makes some sense.” Erik mumbled, pressing a kiss to Charles’s brow, and he could feel it’s resulting quirk under his lips.

The warmth in his mind flared as Charles’s lips quirked and he span in Erik’s arms to face him, curling his arms around Erik’s neck. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Erik grinned. “I know how you hate competing to be the most adorable thing in the room.” It was well worth the slap to the chest. Perhaps it wasn’t worth Charles turning away from him in a huff.

“Oh come on, Schatz,” Erik sighed, trying to get Charles to uncross his arms and turn back round to face him, and Erik would’ve thought Charles was really upset at him if it wasn’t for the constant wave of lovelovelove he was projecting. Really, Charles was very talented at sulking. “I’m just being honest.”

Slowly but surely, Charles turned around, looking up at Erik with those big bright eyes, his rosy bottom lip caught between the cage of his front teeth.

“Do you really think i’m adorable?” he asked, his head tipped down to focus on his fingers, which were absently playing with the string of Erik’s pyjama pants.

Taking Charles’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, he tilted his face up towards his, and placed a small peck on the corner of his mouth. “Extremely.”

Charles grinned that grin that made something airy and achy flutter wildly in his chest. It lit up his whole face, even despite the hair falling in his eyes and the last remnants of a red mark from his pillow ghosting over his cheek. That look could simultaneously undo Erik and put him right back together again. That look could absolutely make Erik fall to Charles’s every whim, and the thing was, Erik would happily do so every time. He hoped Charles never stopped looking like this, no matter how old they grew, no matter how much changed between them: cheeky, bright, and in love.

A pair of arms resumed their rightful place around Erik’s neck as Charles stood on his tip toes to look Erik (almost) in the eye. “Make me breakfast?”

Tucking that unruly hair behind his ear, Erik chuckled at Charles’s brazen exploitation of his, quite frankly, frighteningly honest devotion to the younger man. “Anything for you.”

Charles’s resulting smile proved Erik right. Charles would’ve won the hypothetical competition. Hands down.

It had been three whole weeks since their conversation and Erik couldn’t get it off his mind. How could Charles have never had a dog? Surely every child wanted a dog, though Erik supposed that wanting and having were two completely different things.

Erik always had dogs. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t. The big dogs were always his father’s. There was Sammy the Doberman, and then there was Käse (named by three year old Erik), the German Shepherd. Jakob loved his dogs and cared for them greatly, and Erik still has fond memories of his father’s large hands petting each dog on the head as he came in from work, without fail.

Edie always had a pup following her around, too. Generally, they were smaller, and tended to be lap dogs that would run around her feet and yap at anyone that dared to get close. After his father died and Erik moved out, he took some comfort knowing that Edie had a pint sized guard dog to look after her while he wasn’t around, even if it did bite at his fingers and bark incessantly at the back door when he tried to sneak a smoke.

Technically, Käse was Erik’s dog. Erik was only young when they got him as a puppy, and as such, they grew up together. He followed Erik around everywhere, and seemed to have a special gift of knowing when Erik was fed up, and would curl up at the end of his bed and nose at his leg until Erik caved and gave him attention. According to his mother, it wasn’t unusual to find him sprawled out asleep on the couch with Käse lying on top of him, acting as some form of blanket. It wasn’t exactly hard, either, considering the dog almost grew to be the same size as Erik.

His heart ached for Charles then. His dog was one of the greatest friends he ever knew, as sad as he thought it sounded. It was a constant in a life full of inconstants. No matter what happened in Erik’s life, he could guarantee that at the end of the day, there would be a mountain of a dog scratching at his bedroom door for walkies.

Charles had Raven, though, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that Charles perhaps wasn’t completely alone in that big, cold house. Yet, he knew the troubles he and Raven had in regards to his telepathy, and a small part of Erik wanted to grieve for the young boy who could never fully be himself around his own family.

He expressed all this to his mother one Sunday afternoon. Usually, Charles would be with him (Edie adored Charles, and Erik suspected that she adored him more than Erik at times) but midterms wouldn’t mark themselves, so it gave Erik and his mother an ample opportunity to talk about the telepath.

“I just feel like he’s missed out, mama.” Erik sighed, swishing the dregs of his coffee around in his cup, drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table.

That hand was quickly covered by Edie’s, forcing Erik to look up to his mother’s kind smile and lined face. “Who says he still can’t have it?”

It took him a week for him to organise everything, but he finally did it. It was easy enough to hide the supplies he’d bought for the dog, considering Charles loathed to step foot in his office (“Honestly, Erik, must you decorate using only magenta?”), and actually going about adopting the dog without Charles knowing had been particularly smooth sailing. The hard parts really had been trying not to think about it, lest he accidentally broadcast his plans, and actually choosing the dog to bring home, but he was happy with his decision.

So, that Friday, Erik took a detour on his way home from work to pick up the puppy from the shelter, and once the paperwork was all sorted, he was driving back home with the dog safely in the carrier in the passenger seat, and Erik tried not to speed home.

As soon as he opened the front door, he felt Charles’s brilliant mind greet him, and he pushed his acknowledgement back at him, sending him the equivalent of a mental kiss.

“Charles?” he called out, toeing off his shoes whilst holding the dog in his arms.

“In here, darling.”

Erik peeped his head around the door, finding Charles capping the lid on his pen and smiling up at you.

“I have a surprise for you.” He blurted before Charles could speak, and he could feel Charles’s curiosity spark in his head.

Opening the door fully, Erik stepped inside and strode over to the desk, the tiny Corgi held safely in his arms. Hearing Charles gasp, Erik settled on his knees in front of his chair, kneeling up at full height to hold the puppy up to Charles.

Charles’s face was unreadable, yet Erik took the careful pat he gave to the puppy’s head as a positive sign.

That hand, however, was quickly withdrawn to his lap, and a sigh was huffed out of his nostrils. “Erik-”

“Before you say anything,” Erik interrupted, “what you said about never having a dog got to me. My dog was my best friend in the world before- well, before I met you, I suppose.”

Charles flushed, but let Erik continue.

“He was my best friend, and he was mine. You never forget your first pet, no matter if you have them at twelve or twenty seven. Everyone should have that, if they can, and I want you to have that.”

Tears turned Charles’s blue eyes glassy, and Erik still wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea, whether he had had just reminded Charles how lonely of a child he was.

He quickly got his answer, though, as Charles turned his eyes towards the puppy, and then to Erik.

“Can I hold him?” He asked tentatively, his voice just above a whisper.

Erik’s soft smile couldn’t be helped. “He’s yours, schatz. Of course you can hold him.”

After some careful rearranging, Erik gently passed the puppy into Charles arms. His heart swelled, and he tried to commit the sight to memory; Charles’s soft coos and murmurs, the sheer wonderment in his eyes, his gleeful giggle as the dog liked at his chin and his cheeks. If Charles shed a tear, Erik wouldn’t dare say anything, and if Erik accidentally projected his feelings of sheer adoration for their newfound family of three, Charles wouldn’t mention it either.

Later, when they were tangled tightly together on the sofa, the small pup falling asleep on Charles’s chest under the gentle attention of his soft strokes, the low tones of Attenborough filling the content silence between them, Erik asked: “What are you going to name him?”

Charles hummed, biting the inside of his cheek in thought as his eyes flitted about for inspiration. They landed, eventually, of a picture Charles had taken of Erik whilst they were in college, when Erik was at the prime of his mutant rights activism, and a sly grin overtook Charles’s face as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“Magneto.”

Erik groaned, burying his face in Charles’s hair as he chuckled underneath him.

“Menace.” He whispered into the curls, chasing his words with a kiss as Charles settled further against him, and the serene hush settled over them once more.

“Erik?” Charles piped up after a few minutes.

“Yes?”

“I’m still more adorable, right?”

With fondness flooding his stomach, Erik sent Charles the image of himself: drowning in one of Erik’s jumpers, lips reddened from being scalded on too hot tea, face flushed from their combined body heat.

“Every time, libes. Every time.”

[forever-forgotten-angel]

To Be Named Soon Strip Club Fic (Chapter 1)

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Warning: I am currently planning this to have some Thomas/Virgil romantic elements, if that’s not your thing please move on and have a wonderful day! In addition, this story involves strippers and will likely have some explicit content at some point, so if that isn’t you thing, also please move on and have a wonderful day! Summary: Sanders Sides Strip Club AU, with a newbie Virgil who still isn’t sure about performing in front of actual people and protective club owner Thomas who just wants his employees to be happy and reach their full potential.

Pairings: Patton/Emile, Logan/Roman, Thomas/Virgil, Virgil/Remy, possibly Thomas/Virgil/Remy depending on how things go. More couples may be added.

Hey, I went ahead and typed this up on my phone because the doctor’s office is making me wait until god knows when to get seen for an appointment that was made weeks ago and had a set time. So fun. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

College is going fairly well for Virgil. Sure the classes are bigger, and so is the school, and he doesn’t know anybody (which is both a blessing and a curse to be honest), and the work is harder, but he’s keeping up okay.

 What isn’t going well for him is his hunt for a part-time job.

 No matter how good his resume looks, Virgil just does not interview well. He gets anxious and his throat closes up and he can’t speak right and he just wants to run.

 He’s on his way back to the school from just such an interview right now. It’s about two o’clock (pm obviously) and he’s been walking for quite some time.

 He doesn’t have a car, but luckily the school is in the center of the city and the city’s not too big so he can pretty much walk everywhere. Except somehow, while he was wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing at the latest in his line of interview failures, he’s gotten himself lost. And of course, this is the one time he doesn’t have his phone charged because that is just Virgil’s luck.

 He’s not even sure what part of the city he’s in at this point and he’s in the process of resigning himself to going in to an establishment and asking someone for directions. It wouldn’t be easy, but it’s better than being out here all night.

 Even after coming to this conclusion he spends the next few minutes walking and trying to build up what confidence he has. He finally takes a deep breath and turns to his right, entering the first building he sees. It’s an unassuming black building with a decorative sign that reads ‘Paradise Found’ which looks like it lights up at night.

 It doesn’t take long for Virgil to recognize the familiar setting of the building he’s in, though he does wonder why the door was unlocked at this time of day. He can’t stop a rush of excitement and longing as he sees the poles on the stage. He shakes it off as he enters further, determined to find someone to give him directions now that he’s come this far.

 He spots a couple of what must be the dancers nearby. One of them is wearing a lab coat which is open revealing nothing but a neck tie and a gorgeous torso underneath. The other is wearing a light blue corset with a matching set of underwear and seems to have a cardigan tied around his shoulders for some reason.

 The man with the neck tie heads to the back room, leaving the man in blue alone. Virgil summons as much inner strength as he can muster and approaches the man.

 “Hi.” He curses how weak his voice sounds as the dancer turns around to see him. He is immediately given what has to be the brightest smile he has ever seen. “Hiya! You must be here for the interview. I’ll take you up to the boss.” The man starts walking, motioning for a confused Virgil to follow him. He does, trying to figure out exactly what’s happening but too nervous to just ask. “I’m Patton by the way. What’s your name?” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Virgil.” The dancer, Patton as he now knows, looks back and gives him another blinding smile. “Nice to meet you Virgil.” He blinks a little and gives a small smile back, though he knows his is far less bright. “You too.”

They walk up a staircase to an office. Outside sits a sign that reads ‘Club Attendant Open Interviews 1:00-3:00 pm’. Well that explained why the door was unlocked and where Patton was taking him. He supposed he had his resume on him anyway, and he didn’t really like the idea of telling the bubbly man that he was wrong. Patton didn’t seem like the type to get upset or anything, but you never knew. Besides, what was one more rejection today?

His resolve faded a bit when a man came out from the office looking upset and the slightest bit scared. He felt himself tense up as he followed Patton in, preparing for the worst. 

Instead of some giant mob-boss type person that he was expecting, a gorgeous man in a brown leather jacket and a t-shirt sits behind a large wooden desk that is strewn with papers. The man looks up and smiles when he sees Patton. He literally glowed when he smiled. Does everyone here just have brilliant smiles? What is this? “Hey Pat, what can I do you for you?” The man’s smooth voice echoes through the small room. Patton points over at Virgil who is trying to breath as the gaze of both men are now on him and he’s being stared at and Virgil breathe! He reminds himself as Patton goes to speak again. “I found another one downstairs; he was a bit lost so I brought him up to you.” Virgil feels a slightly embarrassed rush as the word lost reminds him why he was really there but ignores it. The man behind the desk nods. “Thanks Pat, I’ll take him from here.” Patton gives a salute. “Aye, aye captain.”

The bubbly dancer turns to Virgil and, to Virgil’s shock, reaches out and gives him a hug. Virgil hasn’t been hugged since he left his hometown, and even then it was scarce as he only really hugged Alina with any sort of frequency. But Patton was warm and inviting and seemed genuine so Virgil hugged him back, enjoying the contact. Patton pulled back after a minute and Virgil resisted the ridiculous urge to hold onto him longer. “Nice meeting you Virgil! Good luck! Hope to see you soon!” Virgil can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “It was nice meeting you too Patton. Have a great night!” He called after him as he left the room, leaving Virgil alone with ‘the boss’.

Virgil turned back around, he already felt his anxiety growing and his throat contricting and oh god why had he thought he could just do this? He was so not prepared. And what if-

“You’re hired.”

His thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. What? “What?” He repeated his last thought out loud instinctively. His eyes widened as he started to backtrack over his rudeness. “I mean, I’m sorry but I’m confused, I didn’t interview at all…” He trails off, not knowing what to say. The man gives him a heart stopping smile, warm brown eyes meeting Virgil’s. “I don’t need you to. You look to be in good enough shape to do anything I might need you doing around the club.” He gestures to the strap of Virgil’s bag where his school ID is attached. “You clearly must have some modicum of intelligence if you’re in college, and most importantly you’re the first person all day who was completely respectful to one of my performers. That’s good enough for me. The job is yours if you want it.” If? The chance to works in a place that is at least somewhat familiar to him AND finally stop going through the worry and stress of a job interview every few days. Plus, the two workers he’s met so far both seem pretty great. Patton had seemed like such a sweet person, and he respects the man in front of him for being protective of his performers. He remembers how Alina and the other dancers would talk about how the customers of the strip club would sometimes treat them. They’d had to stop talking about it while he was in earshot because he’d get so worked up, but that didn’t stop him from knowing it was probably still happening. It was hardly a difficult decision. “Absolutely! Thank you so much.”

 He was proud he got the words out without stuttering, though his heart did stutter a bit when the man stood up from behind the desk and gave him another large smile as he reach a hand towards Virgil. “Excellent! I guess I’m you new boss then. “I’m Thomas Sanders, welcome to my strip club.” Virgil took his hand, trying to ignore just how warm it is against his skin.

“Virgil Sterling. Nice to meet you, new boss.” He is internally surprised at the almost teasing tone he uses; he must be a little high on this rare stroke of good luck. Thomas is not offended luckily, and simply giggles adorably as he hands Virgil a schedule. “Come in early if you have time and I’ll show you around and introduce you to everyone.” Thomas offers to a grateful Virgil. “Thanks! See you soon I guess?” Thomas nods, giving Vigil one last beautiful smile looking down to the papers on his desk. “See you soon.” Virgil heads back down to leave the club in a daze, still in disbelief at what had just happened. He never gets this lucky. The worst case scenario is often the most likely one for him. He can already feel a bit of doubt rising in him, telling him this was to good to be real. Too good to last. That he was going to mess this up like he did everything. But for once he squashed that voice down. This was the best thing to happen to him in a long time and he was going to enjoy it. 

He is a bit surprised but kind of happy to see Patton waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. “How’d it go? Did you get the job?” His tone holds barely contained excitement. Virgil nods with a smile on his face.  Patton actually squeals and comes forward to give Virgil another hug like he had earlier. Virgil once again is surprised but pleased at the contact as he hugs back a bit sooner this time. “I had a feeling. Oh this is going to be so great! We’re going to be best friends, I just know it!” Virgil fights back a few tears, unused to feeling so wanted. “I hope so.” He comments as he pulls back a bit reluctantly. “I know so.” Patton replies seriously making Virgil’s smile grow more whether he wants it to or not.

 “Patton, it’s your turn to rehearse.” A voice calls from behind the dancer. Virgil catches a glimpse of a man in what appears to be a sexy knight costume before the mystery person ducks back into the back room. “Coming Ro!” Patton shoved a small piece of paper into Virgil’s hand. “My number in case you need anything. See you around Virgil!”  

Patton starts to walk away from a once again, dazed but oddly content Virgil who is staring down a the paper with just a smidgen of awe. He goes to put it in his phone before remembering it’s dead and how this whole miraculous experience had started. He quickly but carefully places Patton’s number into a safe zippered pouch in his bag before calling after the cardigan-clad man. 

“Hey Patton! Would you mind telling me the best way to get back to my school from here really quick please? Just for future reference…”

Tag List: @organizeddiscord, @nightmarejasmine

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

COTW 10 - Full

Levi was having a shit day at work. He was out in the field, biting his tongue about his plans to marry Eren as Erwin prattled on, asking after Eren and his mental health. He knew Erwin was concerned, but he'd already been thrown up on, and had one patient try to take a swing at him. Eren had said he was proud that Levi was out in the field helping people, but on days like this, it was hard to feel appreciated. At least the patient they were currently transporting to hospital was an old beta woman who was happy enough talking to through the gap. Hearing the radio crackle, he sighed as Petra's voice came through "Levi? Are you on channel?" She may have backed off on her continued perusal of him, but sometimes she'd revert back to hitting on him, making them all uncomfortable. She'd kind of edged to the fringe of their friends. Snatching up the receiver, Erwin looked to him "Go ahead Petra" "Eren's at Shinganshima hospital. He's not hurt, but he did sound pretty shaken up" Levi grabbed the receiver from Erwin "What do you mean he's there?!" "He called in an assault, Mike called me to see if I could warn you" "He called in an assault?" "I don't know much more, only that he's there... and that he's ok. He's not the victim" Erwin took the receiver back "Thanks, Petra. We're completing a patient transfer at the moment, we will be there shortly" "You're welcome. Mike also said to tell Levi that there's nothing wrong with the twins, and that he'd know what that means" That was something... but this whole thing was something he didn't need. Not on such a crappy day like today. He knew Eren could throw down with the best of them, but his mate has said he was going into the dance studio to catch up with his partner. Levi had no idea how that turned into assault "He does. Thank you, Petra" Erwin didn't dare talk for the first few moments, as Levi gripped the steering wheel so hard it hurt his hands "He's ok" "He wasn't the victim. That doesn't mean he's ok" "If something was wrong, Mike would have said" "Eren probably told him not to. We both know he likes to hide things" "He's gotten better though, hasn't he?" "No. Not really. No. That isn't fair. It's still deeply ingrained in him that he has to hide things to protect us" "Where's Viren?" "With Eren" That meant their son would have seen whatever Eren had... Shit... "Levi, we don't know what happened. We're ten minutes out" "You don't seem to get it at all. Eren. He cares for everyone. He was actually upset over the people his father killed. He took on that pain like it was his to carry. He's not fragile, but he tries so hard to make everyone around him happy. He'd even cry if something happened to you and your shitty eyebrows" "I know he's a good kid" "But?" "But he is rather emotional" "You try being tortured and kept chained up, and see how you like it. He's still discriminated against for being an omega" "That isn't as bad at once was" "If you believe that, you're a fucking idiot" "Omegas were segregated to keep them safe. They were treasures for looking at and never touching" "And whores for the rich, when their heats hit. We all know the shit that's been smeared over the truth" "Levi" "Look I don't care if you don't like Eren. Actually, no. I do. I know you two have butted heads, but he is my mate. You should at least respect that" "I didn't say I didn't like him" "That's why you've been hounding me nonstop about his mental state. You want to know the truth? Going on his medication has messed with all his systems. He's barely an acceptable weight, and he has a whole new heap of triggers that set off panic attacks. His nightmares have returned, my nightmares have returned. He also thought I was cheating on him, and wanted to break our bond because I started treating him like shit without knowing it. He lost a pup down in Paradis, that's why Hanji came down to join us, and he's so worried about everyone around him, he's hiding his pain over it all. He's brave and he's stubborn, and he's my hope. He gets twice as much shit for being a male omega, and he still stands up for himself. He's not all panic attacks and crying fits. So you need to start respecting him" "I didn't say I didn't respect him" "No. I know you too well. You've always thought he was bad for me" "Not bad. You just have a tendency to lose all control when it comes to him. He nearly destroyed you. More than once" "Being taken against his will, then forced to witness the inside of a baby farm was hardly his idea of a pleasant holiday" "There were quite a few high ranking officials that fell thanks to Floch's investigation" "And thanks to Eren" Erwin sensed his defeat, the alpha turning his attention to the beta woman in the back, Levi seriously wanted to deck the man. They'd had this argument more times than he could count. He wasn't the same person he'd been since meeting Eren, and talking to Krista had pulled up so many thoughts and emotions. He knew he struggled with his anxieties over Eren, but anxieties and worry came hand in hand with loving someone. He couldn't help it if Eren deserved the moon and every star in the sky. He loved him and he loved loving him. Even when things were rough, Eren soothed his soul like nothing else. * Completing the hand off, the beta woman smiled happily as she was wheeled away. Levi had made it a point not to look in Erwin's direction as he filled out the last of the forms. He had more important things to do. Get the forms done, then get the truth of everything out of Eren. Coming closer, Levi growled at Erwin. The man stopping just short of placing his hand on his shoulder. He didn't want to drag this up again. He didn't even want to invite Erwin to his wedding. That had been bad enough. He'd headed down to the courthouse to see about getting their marriage licence thing. The things they'd wanted on Eren's behalf had pissed him off. Eren was treated like a criminal. They wanted absolutely everything, including bank records and police clearance. Why the fuck their finances where any of the governments business, he had no clue. He'd thought it would be a simple case of presenting their ID's, but no. He'd had to take a small tree down, only for them to say each page needed to be signed by an authorised signatory. Which Mike could do, when he had time to talk to him without Erwin around. He was still yet to pick Eren's ring up... His phone hadn't survived its swim, which was probably why Eren had had to tell Mike everything. He hadn't had a chance to swing by the shops and pick up a new one... stupidly forgetting he could pick one up online when shopping for Viren. Though, in his defence, work had kicked his arse. He'd been dead on his feet when he came back on Monday night, then Viren had cried almost all night, his exhaustion had bled over into each following day since then. It was now Saturday and it felt like a whole month had passed since he returned. He'd been pampered into laziness by domestic life. Heading into the emergency department, he didn't know the woman working. Explaining that his mate had been brought in, and that needed to talk to Mike, he was made to wait in the reception area, where everyone was sniffling and sharing their shitty germs... Eren loathed hospitals, and wouldn't be happy to be there. Then there was Viren. He'd been so upset when Eren collapsed, if he witness what happened, the poor boy would probably just as distraught. When Mike finally appeared, Levi earned himself glares crossing the room before all of them. Slipping past Mike, his friend patted his shoulder, much like how Erwin had tried to before, leading him forward, he couldn't seem to find Eren's scent in the air "Eren's ok. Split lip and split knuckles, but he and the pups are otherwise ok" "Then what the fuck happened?" "He was having a late lunch with his dance partner Sasha, when he heard a cry. Leaving Viren with her, he found an omega in the middle of being assaulted" "Sexually?" "No. Though that didn't stop the beta from doing a number on their back and shoulders. Eren broke his arm, and jaw. Called emergency services for the omega and has been with her since they arrived" "He's really good with other omegas" "Her partner is on his way in. She'd come into the city for Christmas shopping, and was on her way to meet up with friends..." "Your shitty husband was just trying to tell me today how much better things were for omegas. What a load of shit. Even refuges don't give two fucks about the omegas in their care" "Just try not to let that anger show. She's pretty shaken up" "I know better than to do that. Have the police taken their statements" "It was your friend Pixis" Pixis barely ventured out his precinct these days. Things must have been desperate with the silly season upon them. Knocking lightly on the door to a room just off the emergency department, Mike opened the door slowly. Eren was sitting in the visitors chair, while Viren was bragging about all sorts of things to a very exhausted looking omega. The moment her eyes met his, she flinched away. Eren was there right away, hushing her softly "It's ok. This is my mate, Levi" "I trust you not to hurt her, but if she grows distressed, come find me" He'd planned to get Eren and go home, but of course his mate wanted to be there for the omega. Time to appear non threatening "Hey. Hey, Eren" "Hello, it's nice to meet you Levi" He noted the way the female omega didn't offer her name, and the slight tremor remaining in her frame. Moving to sit on the edge of the woman's bed, Eren wrapped an arm around her shoulders "You're perfectly safe here. I know all the doctors way too well, and if anyone does anything, Levi will jump in to protect us" "I'm not sure you need protecting. I'm so sorry you had to..." "No. I'm sorry you had to experience something like that" "You were honestly amazing. You didn't even hesitate" "Of course not. No one deserves to be made to feel that scared" Lifting Viren into his hold, Levi sank down into the visitors chair "How was work?" "Long. Erwin talks way too much" Eren snorted, then paused to explain "Erwin is married to Mike, the doctor who was there when you were admitted. He and Levi are paramedics" "Oh..." The woman frowned at the word paramedics "Who drove you in?" "I don't know. I think they were EMT's..." So Eren didn't know them "I did try to call you, then I remembered the whole phone thing. I'm guessing Mike called Erwin?" "Mike called Petra, who radioed through to us" "Ahhh... I did tell him not to. With you working, and me not being hurt" "Eren, you're a terrible liar. You've got steri-strips on your face and a wrapped hand" "It's fine. He didn't even hit my stomach, so it's nothing much. I've had worse from Viren. But we'll be talking about this when we get home. Levi might look all grumpy, but he worries way too much" The female omega forced a smile in his direction "That must be nice" "It is in its own way. Levi actually treats me like I'm his equal" "I can see why. I've never seen an omega hit a beta, or an alpha" "Sometimes it's the only way they listen..." "It was my fault, for being an omega" "It is not your fault. You cannot help being an omega. That beta could help being a douche" "I still feel responsible..." "I know. But I swear it wasn't your fault. You did nothing to deserve that" Nuzzling her hair, Eren held her close, gently calming her. Levi was strangely not jealous over the intimate contact. He was proud of his mate for standing up for what he believed in, and helping someone who could help themselves. The woman was absolutely tiny, he doubted she would be any taller than 5ft. Eren must have seemed like a 6 foot tall knight rushing to her rescue "Eren is right. You didn't deserve that. No one does. I'm so proud of you Eren" "You're truly not angry with him?" "No. How could I be?" "He hurt the beta" "If Eren hurt him, it was because it was necessary. He isn't one to jump into a fight and cause havoc just because he can" Eren blushed, flustered as he tried to get his words out "Besides, it's not the first time I've been in a fight. It, uh... it used to be semi regular. I mean, I didn't start them, but I wasn't about to let other people get hurt..." "What he means is, he used to work somewhere not so great, so regularly stood up for his coworkers" "That's so amazing for an omega. Usually no one listens. My alpha's nice, but there are so many out there that aren't" "That's true" Falling into silence, it was awkward. When Viren tugged his arm and less that softly told him he had to go to the toilet, Levi took the chance. With a look to Eren, his omega nodded "I'm going to stay with her until her alpha arrives. You probably need to get back to work" "It's fine. I'm just taking a long lunch, I want to drop you home before going back" "If you need to go..." The woman's frightened expression said it all "No. It's fine. Like I said, I know all the doctors around here. I can get a lift home" Not that he'd ask. His brat would hate to inconvenience them "And like I said, I'll take you home. I'll be back soon" Viren was more distracted by everything going on around them the fact he had to pee. The boy was so hyped up by everything, he ended up peeing on the toilet rather than in. Another thing Levi really didn't feel like dealing with, yet still wiped down the toilet, because he was nice like that. The whole trip had already taken longer than expected, with his son saying hello to everyone both there and on the way back. Eren was waiting patiently just down the hall from the omegas room "Everything ok?" "Yep. Her alpha's just arrived. And even though I've been here way too many times, I decided it would be smarter to wait here for you" "Thank you... after today, I probably would have lost it if I couldn't find you" "That good?" "Pretty much. Want to tell me what happened?" Taking his hand with his bandaged hand, Eren tugged him towards the exit "Ugh. Not if it means it's going to start a fight" "It's not going to start a fight. I just want to make sure you're ok... given what you witnessed" "I was having lunch with Sasha. There's this great cafe down from the studio, when I thought I could hear someone crying out. We were sitting out in the patio area. Sasha didn't seem to notice it, and no one else seemed to either, or they were ignoring it. Then it started getting louder, so I left Viren with her. They were both busy eating anyway. I probably looked like an idiot. Anyways, she was pinned up against the side of the restaurant, trying to get free and everyone was ignoring her. The police brought the alpha in separately, though the EMT's didn't seem too happy about us both being omegas, and having Viren there" So it didn't progress into a sexual assault... thank god for that. For both Eren and the omega "Not everyone. You did really good today" Eren gave him a shy smile, his mate still looking worried "Thanks. I wasn't sure if you'd be mad or not?" "I'm mad at everyone who walked past" "She was terrified. She kept asking him to leave her alone. I might have over done it" "From what I've heard, he had it coming" Pulling him into a one armed hug, Levi smiled at his mate "I'm so fucking proud of you" "It... was really scary" "And you handled it so well. You stayed with her and kept her calm" "I just did what felt right... I thought you might be mad" "No. I know how much omegas enjoy the contact of another omega, and how calming it is for you. You and Marco used to cuddle quite a bit" "I don't know how to explain it. It's like, really soft. Like cuddling into your favourite blanket" "Oh. Do I have to be jealous, after all?" "No. Your cuddles are the best in the world" "Mmm. That's better. He really didn't hit your stomach?" "No. He called me a slut and went to go me. All I cared about was getting him off Sophie" "Her name was Sophie?" "Yeah. I told her you might come by, so she wouldn't be scared. Viren was busy telling her all about you" Levi laughed, squeezing his son's hand as they made their way over to the door that would lead them out to the emergency department waiting room "I thought he was talking about himself" "He started by getting excited when I said "dad" and it snowballed from there" "Is that so?" "Yep. Anyway. Mike gave me an ultrasound to make sure I hadn't been hit, because I didn't remember getting hit in the face. No concussion either. I decked him in the face, and the idiot fell over his own feet. That's when he broke his arm" "Idiot" "Pretty much" Erwin was waiting for them in the waiting room, Viren yelling out of "Uncle Erwin", freeing himself to run over to the man. Levi was still pissed over their earlier spat. Tensing, Eren saw right through him "Did you two have a fight?" "Yeah, but it's fine" "Levi. You don't have that many friends. You can't fight with the ones you do have" "He was just worried about you getting into a fight" "Oh. Yeah. I don't think he and I will ever be the best of friends, but I'm ok with that. We both care about you so much, that we both think we know best" "I know" He wasn't about to tell Eren about the contents of the conversation. Not when his mate was still shaken over what he'd seen and how he'd acted. He could smell both Eren's fear and Sophie's lingering fear. "Everything alright?" Eren nodded, kissing Levi's cheek as he did. Erwin had Viren up in his hold, the four of them moving towards where the ambulance was parked "More than ok. Eren was extremely brave today" "Leeeee. It wasn't that brave" "He saved an omega from being attacked in public. I'm very proud of him" "And everything alright with you, Eren?" "Yep. Just fine. Both pups are fine, and the omega is with her alpha. It's just a few scrapes" "Mike said you were calm and collected, and kept her calm. Even though you broke the alpha's jaw and arm" "He broke his own arm. He tripped over his own feet. And, he was a beta" Mumbling, Eren was acting slightly skittish around Erwin. He didn't like that at all. Nuzzling Eren's back, his omega relaxed into his hold "I'm proud of you" "I know. You can stop saying it" "Nope" "Lee, please. I just want to go home now. I want to take a bath, and watch cartoons with Viren" "I think we can manage that" "Good. Oh, shit. I need to message Sasha. I ditched her at the cafe" "Am I going to meet Sasha?" "Yep. I invited her and Connie to Viren's birthday party" And Levi had remembered to look up trikes online, it was being delivered to Hanji's, along with a shiny red helmet for their son "I think they're really going to like Marco and Jean" "So they're coming?" "They're moving at the end of the month. Jean wants another pup soon, but Marco isn't having it" "He shouldn't have to" "He loves Jean, and he loves being a mum. Oh. He doesn't know I'm pregnant yet. Hanji's been warned that she's not to turn it into a baby shower" "I know. As far as I know, she doesn't have anything planned" "You know Hanji, she always has the best of intentions" "I know..." Guiding Eren into the back of the ambulance, his omega kept an arm around his waist as they sat on the gurney. Viren immediately wanted to play with everything as Erwin stood him up just inside the doorway, while Eren was happy to hide his face against Levi's neck. Taking his son's hand, Levi pulled him up into his lap, sandwiched between his two loves. Closing the door, Erwin headed around to climb up into the driver's seat. Looking back at them, Erwin shrugged at the sight "You three ready?" "Yeah. Viren wants to play with everything" "You're cleaning the mess up" "Don't I always?" * Dropping them at home, Eren was more than happy to be back in his safe place. He felt bad for inconveniencing Levi, and bad for bossing the EMT's around. They were going to take them to another smaller, closer hospital, but Sophie was terrified, and he didn't trust anyone else to handle the scared woman. Letting Viren go running to the sofa, Eren made sure the door was locked, about to text Levi over it, before remembering his phone was dead. He'd had enough of not being able to message his alpha. Like today, he couldn't even message Levi to let him know he was going to lunch with Sasha. He knew Levi wouldn't mind, but he felt the need to keep his mate in the loop given Levi's anxieties. They had a combined appointment with Krista, but that wasn't until after his dance wind up. Exhausted, he wanted to take a bath, but that meant leaving Viren unsupervised. His son would probably crash soon from all the excitement of the day, and a nap did sound great... scooping his son up, Eren nuzzled into his soft hair "Mummy?" "Come take a nap with mummy" "Noooo" "Viren, don't you want cuddles?" "Nooo. I want cartoons" "We'll watch cartoons later baby" "But mum!" "Please Viren, mummy has had a long day" A very long day. His nerves shattered now that he was ok to not be ok. He'd also been dancing with Sasha, and hiding that from Levi. It was hardly anything. Merely walking through the steps of the routine they would be performing, yet he still felt guilty. Hanji had told him to hold off until the start of December, which was only a few more days away... He'd have to tell Levi. Levi would be disappointed, but maybe he would understand. It wasn't as intense as pole dancing "Come on baby" "I want daddy" "Daddy has to work with Uncle Erwin" "But I want daddy" That was when the crying started. Carrying Viren through to their room, he sat him down, only for the boy to fling himself down on the floor, screaming as he dissolved into a tantrum. Instead of letting him cry, he attempted to lift his son, who squarely hit him in his split lip. Jerking back in pain, Eren finally broke down. Starting to cry, he stumbled back, sinking down on the floor sobbing. He'd seen red at Sophie being attacked. Everything has rushed back from when Zeke died, and he'd lost it. He was sure he'd called the man "Bertholdt", as he'd decked him thoughtlessly. Everything was a kind of blur, he'd even scared Viren when he came back bleeding. His son didn't know why mummy was bleeding again, but he didn't like it. Sitting on the floor with his back against Levi's wardrobe, he cried into his hands until two small hands grabbed his. His first instinct was to lash out, until his omega scolded him that it was their son. Gathering Viren into his lap, he rocked the boy. Viren crying just as hard as he did. He loved his son so much, but he hadn't thought about how badly he'd be scared by blood. Sasha had calmed him as they'd waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive, Viren didn't want to go near him at all. Kissing his son hair, he reminded himself he couldn't be like this. He was being selfish by crying in front of his son "I'm sorry baby. Mummy's sorry. Mummy's sorry. I know you want daddy. I know baby boy" Curled into each other, Eren kept rocking Viren until he fell asleep in his arms. Moving his son to his own bed, the omega then ran himself a shower, rather than a bath. With a towel shoved against the bottom of the door, so Viren wouldn't hear, he sobbed himself out. He hadn't even thought about the safety of his pups, and he was so fucking angry at himself for still being haunted by the past. When Levi got home from work, his mate seemed to know he really wasn't ok with a single glance. Striding over to him, Levi pulled him up from the sofa and into his arms. Eren crumbling against him "Bad day?" Eren snorted, nodding as he nosed at Levi's scent. His mate smelt as happy as he felt "Yeah. You?" "Absolutely crap" "Fuck... I'm sorry. When I got home, everything hit me. Viren was crying, and I was crying. But what happened with the rest of your shift?" "People are idiots. How do you feel now?" "Really fucking drained. I made dinner" "Thank you. Have you eaten?" "Not yet. I wanted to have dinner with you" "Sounds good. Let me take a shower, then we can cuddle on the sofa" "That sounds so good..." Neither of them moved, Levi laughing softly when it became apparent neither of them particularly wanted to "Levi. I need to tell you something" "What's up?" "I kind of danced today. Sasha and I walked through the moves to our routine. I'm sorry" "Eren, it's ok. I had the feeling you might, and you know not to push yourself just yet. Did you feel guilty all day because of it?" Eren nodded softly "I know you don't want to yet" "You don't need to feel guilty. We've both had a long day" "I'm sorry" "No, it's ok. Erwin made me pick up a new phone on the way home" "I was going to look them up, but..." "You fell apart. I can smell it" "I called the guy "Bertholdt"" Levi tensed, sighing as he did "Alright. You're coming with me" "What?" "I need a shower, and we both need a hug" "You do kind of smell" "I got vomited on during the first call out of the day, then pissed on with the last" "And you let me hug you" "Don't say I never do anything romantic" "You're an arse" "Mhmm. Come on" Levi was cooperative as they showered. Eren washing his fiancées hair, while Levi kept his forehead against his chest. He loved the grey hairs blending through Levi's neatly trimmed hair. His alpha was just as gorgeous to him as he was the moment Eren had met him. Trading a few small kisses, all their touches were reassuring, with no need to be sexual. He wasn't up for sex. Not after what had happened earlier. When their shower was done, Levi redressed his hand for him, kissing the wound sites and nuzzling into the spots, before disinfecting them. After their shower, they curled up on the sofa. Levi fitting nicely in his hold as they ate, it was a comfortable sort of silence, the TV playing something on the background, that neither of them was paying attention to. Sleepy and warm, he placed his half eaten food on the table, content with holding Levi. He knew his mate hadn't been sleeping well. Forcing himself not to fall asleep until Levi did. They managed a few hours sleep before he woke screaming. Levi sent flying to the floor as he started flailing. Climbing up, his alpha grabbed his shoulders "Eren?!" "I'm ok. Fuck... I'm ok" His chest was heaving as beads of sweat rolled down his face. Rubbing his eyes, Levi hovered until he was ready to sit up. Levi was a sexy kind of disoriented, sitting on the coffee table across from. His hair sticking up, with dried drool in the corner of his mouth "What was it about?" "It wasn't as bad as normal" "It was bad enough for you to scream" "It was weird... you killed Erwin, but he came back. And he had this rubber duck, and was chasing us. I don't really remember the rest, but it was weird" Levi laughed. His alpha threw his head back and laughed. Pouting, he pulled his hands back from Levi's "I'm sorry. But a rubber duck?" "Shut up. I told you it wasn't as bad as normal" "I didn't realise rubber ducks were so scary" "You know what, I was worried about you. I take it all back" "You can't take it back" "Then I'll remember this. And when you least expect it, there will be ducks" "I'm looking forward to it. But you're really ok?" "I'm ok. I had a good cry earlier while Viren was napping. I guess I was still a bit anxious when I went to sleep or something" "Anxious over ducks" "No one gets anxious over ducks" "Come here you, I think we can still get a few more hours sleep" Still pouty at Levi, Eren pushed himself up, surprising Levi by lifting him off the table "What are you doing?" "Carrying you to bed" "You're the one who had the nightmare" "And you're the one who was a dick over ducks. This my revenge" "I thought it was revenge by ducks" "Oh, there will be a great duck reckoning" "Look at you using big words" "You can't blame that on me. You're the one who's taught me how to read and write" "I never thought it would come back to haunt me like this" "You need to set your phone up" "I know. Tomorrow after work, we'll sit down and work it out" "And we need to get you a waterproof case" "That would probably be a good idea. It needs to be toddler proof too" "I don't think anything that's supposed to be toddler proof is" "No... you might be right about that one" Viren had crept into their room while they slept. The boy sleeping in the centre of the bed, out like a starfish. Sitting Levi down, his alpha smiled at their son "Should I move him back to his bed?" "No. You should sleep closer to him. Just in case I freak out again" "Eren, you don't need to be scared of Viren" "I freaked him out pretty badly, I didn't think about how scared he be over me bleeding" "Eren... it was all forgotten by the time we got to the hospital. He was happy" "I hate scaring him. When I started crying today, he was mid tantrum because he didn't want to nap. He climbed into my arms to make me feel better. He's not supposed to do that" "Let's go to bed. It's been a long day" "L-" "Eren, you're a great mum. And a great person. I meant what I said. I was so proud of you for stepping in" "I didn't even think about the safety of the pups" "Is that what's worrying you? The pups?" "I was so angry I forgot about them. It wasn't until Mike wanted to give me an examination that I remembered" "I think you're over thinking it. We've both had a long day" It was easy for Levi to say. He hadn't seen how scared their son was "Please Levi, just sleep next to him" "Alright, as long as you stay" He was planning on bolting back to his old room the first chance he got "Eren, stay. I want you to stay" He couldn't say no to that... "Even if you have another nightmare, I'll be here to protect you from the ducks" Fucking ducks. He should have kept his mouth shut. He was starting to feel anxious about it all... and stupid as fuck. Who the hell had a screaming nightmare over ducks?! "You're so annoying. Go to sleep already" "Then get into bed already" "I'm waiting on you" "And I'm waiting on you" "That's it. I'm going to go sleep in my room" "No. Ok. I won't tease you about it any longer, can you please just come to bed?" "You'll never mention it again" "Not unless you do" "Fine. Move over, I'm getting in" Levi might have promised to never mention it again... but the moment Eren spooned up behind him, his alpha quacked. After that, his desire to fall back to sleep vanished. He stayed in bed with Levi in his arms, but he didn't dare sleep. He didn't want to feel even stupider than he was.

[finestfenwick]

“I can’t believe they would’ve promoted some bitch over you. You seem fit, mate.” 

Benjy raises his eye brows and raises his shot in thanks before he downs it. The meeting the day before with O'Donnell and Scamander had gone as well as it could. O’Donnell had sent word to Benjy via a Niffler that had ransacked his cover apartment to meet him at the White Wyvern for drinks. Benjy was in edge at first, worried about running into friends or Merlin forbid, Cassiel Avery, but the Nifflers occupied a booth in the back corner and didn’t seem keen on talking to anyone except the casual working girl.

The ‘bitch’ in question was none other than Amelia Bones. That was one of the reasons behind his cover-he was pissed off that Amelia ranked higher than him.  It was laughable, really-anyone who knew anything about how the Aurory worked knew that Amelia had more than enough seniority to rank above him. It let Benjy know just how foolish the people he was dealing with were-and it was a type of foolishness that made them dangerous.

“I mean, I could’ve shagged my way to the top too but er, the boss is too beardy for my taste.” 

This causes a round of laughter from O’Donnell, Stuart and the man introduced to Benjy as simply ‘Nim’. The name would’ve been laughable save for the fact that the man’s biceps where bigger than Benjy’s thighs and his skin was absolutely littered in tattoos-including a familiar one of a snake eating a skull.

Gaining their trust was proving to be easy. Maybe too easy. Benjy was still being cautious, but it was getting harder and harder with every shot he took. It was scary, in a way, how easily he fit in with men like this. A wrong turn here, a point lower on his auror entrance exam here-this false identity could very easily be Benjy’s reality.

He was suddenly very, very glad he wasn’t.

“Anyhow-” He continues, instantly gaining his party’s full attention again. “-I finally called them on their bullshit after they gave her yet another case she wasn’t nearly smart enough to solve-I sort of knew who’d done it anyhow, I’d considered getting into it with him like I am now with you lot, but he wasn’t any good-”

“Was it Avery?” Stuart cuts in. Benjy has never met someone who better personifies the word ‘Beady’ before. “-that fucker’s scary.”

Benjy nods offhandedly. “Can’t really say, but I’d er-prefer not to get mixed up with him if I could avoid it.”

O’Donnell snorts. “Lookit you, talking all proper and shit still. You might fit in better with Avery with words like that, mate. He thinks he’s too good for us. Too busy shagging that one bitch anyhow-whatshername?”

“Zazzi.” Stuart supplies. Nim nods. 

“Yeah. It’s either that bitch or whoever’ll pay him more.”

Benjy snorts. “You familiar with his rates, then? Intimately so?”

The other two howl with laughter but O’Donnell glares at him.

“Watch yourself.”

Benjy holds up his hands in mock surrender, but makes a mental note. Avery and ‘Zazzi’ are not involved, not heavily at least. That doesn’t really tell him too much-though both of them had rumors of ties to the DE they’d never be as obvious as dear old Nim. All it let Benjy know is that another criminal he was aware of didn’t have ties with this organization-and that was probably better for him, given how his ties to Avery were not all strictly business related. He pushes the memory of Cleona finding the baggie in his medicine cabinet out of his mind.

“I kid, I kid. But yeah, it was a case that I knew I could solve, and they didn’t give it to me because they’re more concerned about looking good. I’d about had it then. I tried to keep it civil at first but pretty soon we were screaming at each other. The pussy they gave me for a partner held me back from hexing the stupid bitch, but fucking Crouch broke it up pretty fast after that. Put me on ‘indefinite leave.’” Benjy scoffs. They’d done it all, just as he’d said, with Amelia wishing him luck again under her breath as Crouch and Moody and Kingsley had dragged him off. They had to make as much of this real as they could.

“Which you know, is just horseshit. They can’t fire me because ‘Ex-Qudditch Hero leaves Auror Force in shame’ doesn’t sound good at the moment, but now-” Benjy raises his glass, which magically filled when he’d finished the last shot.

“They’re gonna regret everything.”

~~ 

Several shots later, Benjy is fuzzy. He hadn’t been this drunk since his birthday-which really, wasn’t so long ago. Absentmindedly, he brushes his hand through his hair to touch the back of the diamond stud in his ear. Her diamond stud.

Cleona.

He ached to think of her-how angry and hurt she must be. It’d been about a week now-she had to know. The octopus in his pocket pressed up against his leg, as if one queue, warms. She knew he was thinking about her, that he was missing her, and it seemed that at least to some level, that sentiment was returned.

I love you. I’m sorry

He’s so engrossed in thinking-thinking properly if that were even a thing when it came to whatever it was that his girlfriend could do, that he doesn’t realize he was being spoken to until Nim slaps his knee. Hard.

“Sorry?”

“You like what you see?” O’Donnell leers, nodding his head towards one of the sex workers lingering nearby. She had dyed red hair that slightly resembled that of Lily, the new receptionist in the office and for one wild second, Benjy thought it might be her-as if Crouch or Moody would put a civilian undercover just to get him a message. But closer inspection reveals this woman is a little older-and harder. More than likely she’d seen some shit. 

“She’s fit, yeah.” Benjy says non nonchalantly, sipping on the beer he’d barely touched all night. 

“You want her? You’ve got her.”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Normally-well not normally, before Cleona, he wouldn’t have thought twice about something like this, anything to maintain the cover. Benjy realizes right then that he never should’ve been allowed to go undercover. He had a weakness now, and her name was tattooed on his fucking hip. 

“Nah, mate, thanks. But uh-I can’t afford her.” O’Donnell just waves his hand dismissively.

“Think of it was a welcome present. Me and the lads got other business to attend to anyway. I like your style, Fenwick. You’ll be hearing from me shortly.” He winks at Benjy before shouting across the bar.

“Beatrix! Commere.” 

She pulls herself away from the group and bounds over. She would’ve been his type a few years ago, even with the edge her profession had given her-but Benjy didn’t have a type so much as a person now, and the thought of betraying her-He can feel his heart beat pick up in his chest.

“Can I help you, love?” She purrs, eyeing all of them with false interest. Her green eyes sweep the four of them. O’Donnell hands her a little bag of gold.

“This is Benjy. Get to know him, on me.” 

As the other three get up to leave, Beatrix grabs Benjy’s wrist and pulls him out of the booth.

“You ready to have fun, love?”

“Um-”

Her lips are on his before Benjy can stop her, and instinctively he kisses her back, following her lead out into the alley, the kisses getting sloppier and sloppier as they stumble out the door. It’s far too wet and Benjy’s pretty sure she licks his cheek at one point. Not exactly a turn on-not that he wanted one anyway.

“Well, he paid for the works so-”

Beatrix is on her knees now, and Benjy stiffens when her hands find his zipper. She looks up at him, confused, groping his barely there erection through the jeans under his robes.

“What’s the matter? Need a little help?”

“Uh, no, not quite-”

Benjy tries to smile, but now Beatrix is getting handsy. He leaps back away from her as if she had shocked him. This has to stop.

“What the hell? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m gay.”

It slips out before he can stop himself and Beatrix cocks her head to the side to look up at him. 

“Really?”

“...yeah. But I-I’d apperciate it if you know, you didn’t uhm, make it known to O’Donnell-”

She brushes him off, gesturing with her hands to help her up. Benjy does, making sure she’s steady on her high heels before letting go.

“I already got paid-more than I was expecting tonight at that-I’m going home to the bath, who or what you do or don’t do is your business, love.”

She pats him once on the cheek.

“Too bad though-we could’ve had some fun.”

Beatrix gives him a smile before turning to disappear on the spot. Benjy all but collapses against the building. The familiar loathing creeps up, as it often does when he doesn’t do something the way he’s supposed to, but the relief, the knowledge that he didn’t do anything undo-able, is far greater. A quick glance around the alley reveals him to be alone and Benjy decides to risk it. He pulls the Octopus-Hugo-out of his pocket and smiles at it softly. He wants to cry but he can’t let himself get there-he can’t miss her too much, or he’d be utterly useless. 

Benjy runs a finger down the back of the creature, and he’s so enraptured by the warmth he receives back a few seconds later that he fails to notice Nim, lurking near the entry to the bar, watching him carefully.

[itsallavengers]

Injured!Steve + Protective!Tony

“Come here.”

Steve shut his eyes, sighing irritably as he heard Tony step into the room. “Stark, now is not a good time.”

From the reflection of the mirror, he watched the man lean against the frame of the door and raise his eyebrows. “Well, I can see that much myself,” Tony stated.

A warning growl slipped through Steve’s teeth. “Stark, for God’s sake, can you just-”

“Hey, so since when did you start going back to last-name basis with me?” He interrupted a little petulantly, taking another step forward until he was officially inside Steve’s bathroom, “I thought we were making progress-”

“Stark, please, just-”

“-you know, I don’t call you Rogers any more, and ever since you yelled at me for getting crushed and then pretending I was fine, I’m trying not to hide my injuries either, which apparently is more than can be said for-”

“TONY!”

The yell cut through the words the same way the razor Steve had been holding to his cheek cut through skin at the jerking movement, and he cursed as the blade sliced through skin. Fucking shaky hands. He sighed, muttering something incomprehensible as a he rested a palm against his forehead. “Tony, please, can you just go-”

“You’re hurt.” Tony stated it bluntly, folding his arms and staring down at Steve as he leaned over the sink. Steve hated being seen like this. “You’re hurt, Steve, so do us both a favour and just come here.”

“I’m fine, Tony,” Steve gritted- why was Tony still there? They’d had their argument hours ago. Steve was finished for the day. He didn’t have the energy for any more fighting.

“You know,” Tony said, and suddenly there was a hand curled around Steve’s wrist as it attempted to bring the shaking razor back up to his jaw, stopping it an inch from his face, “you don’t have to do absolutely everything on your own.”

Steve turned, looking down at Tony and clenching his jaw. Tony didn’t waver- his own face a little bruised, a little beaten, but defiant as ever. They remained locked in a staring match for a few seconds, until finally Steve let go of the straight razor, letting it drop into the sink with a clatter. “Fine,” he muttered, “there, it’s gone. Take me to medical if you’re so damn concerned- they’re only gonna do the same things I was doing to myself a few minutes ago.”

Tony shook his head and pulled Steve’s wrist downward, tugging until he caught on and realised Tony wanted him to move. Humouring him, Steve let him lead them- following Tony until they reached the toilet, where he pushed down the lid and then gestured for Steve to sit. He raised an eyebrow in question.

Tony waved a hand over to his bare chest in answer. The chest currently littered with cuts, scrapes, bruises and a bullet hole. Oh- and possibly a few broken bones. Dislocated shoulder at the most- he was getting to fixing it, but it hurt like a fucker and he didn’t really have the willpower at that point in time.

It had been a long fight. And loathe though Steve was to admit it, they took a toll on him.

“Sit down,” Tony told him, and when Steve made no effort to move, he added a brutally honest “please, Steve.”

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There was another moment’s worth of glares, and then finally he dropped. Carefully. His ribs still hurt, after all.

Tony nodded, pleased, and then turned back over to the sink, grabbing the bloody cloth from the side. He wrung it out a few times, peered at Steve through the reflection of the glass that hung in front of him, and then turned. “I’m not taking you to the medbay because you won’t fucking stay there unless you’re fucking tranqued,” he stated. “I’ll just do it myself.”

Instantly, the rebuttal formed on Steve’s lips; the assurance that he was fine, that he didn’t need help, he could do it on his own. But before the words could even leave his mouth, he felt the warmth of a hand against his jaw, tugging it upward so he was looking right at Tony.

“Don’t,” the man said fiercely, “you’re not fine, Steve. Jesus, if I’d have known you were this bad I wouldn’t have- I wouldn’t...”

He broke off, looking a little far away as he frowned. His lip was rubbed red from where teeth had scraped. “Just sit there and let me do this, Steve. You can look sullen the whole damn time if you want, just- just let me help you. For once, alright? Let someone help.”

Steve said nothing, and Tony knew that was as close as he was going to get to an agreement, so he crouched on his knees and pressed the cloth over the dirt and friction burns running across Steve’s middle. He couldn’t hold back a wince, the memory of the explosion- the fierce pain of his body being scraped along the road as the shockwave pushed him away and away and away- consuming him for a moment.

Tony’s hand was soft, the free one resting lightly against his good shoulder. “Sorry,” he murmured as the cool dampness swept across his stomach.

Steve shut his eyes. Letting Tony do this felt wrong, somehow. Like he shouldn’t be seeing it- seeing their team leader as vulnerable as this. It was a bad example. “I’m sorry too,” he muttered without thinking.

Tony’s hands stopped, and Steve barely held back the little whimper of displeasure. The cool softness had been comforting. “Steve, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He broke off, shaking his head. “Only person in this room who should be apologising is me. I didn’t- I didn’t mean what I said. And looking at you now, it’s obviously not true either.”

He looked at Steve, just for a second, before his eyes focused back on the injuries and he finished wiping them down. He was biting his lip again, like he wanted to say more.

“Fighting eachother after fighting evil is like a tradition now,” Steve told him, a smile ghosting his mouth, “wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t have you insulting me for something on the ride home.”

Tony laughed humorlessly. His hands finished swiping over the dirt, and he leaned up higher, nudging himself further into Steve’s space as he cocked his head to the bullet wound. “You taken it out?” He asked quietly.

Steve nodded, watching him intently. It felt like he had a spotlight on him whenever Tony stared at him like that. So focused- all that mind, all that thought on him. It made his skin prickle.

Tony breathed out a sigh, and Steve felt it against his chest. “Just give me a minute- need to grab something from my room,” he muttered, before standing up and walking. He stopped by the threshold, waggling a finger over to him. “Do not go anywhere.”

Steve nodded again, and Tony hurried out of the room and down the corridor, over to where his bedroom was at the bottom. Steve heard his feet patting against the carpet- an anxiously fast pace. Did he really look that bad?

Probably.

Tony returned thirty seconds later, hands full of various bandages and bottles. Steve snorted. He really was going all out, then. “You got a stretcher somewhere in there?”

“Ha ha,” Tony dumped the contents of his arms down next to Steve’s feet and returned to his position knelt on the floor between Steve’s legs. Possibly something that would’ve been cause for his mind to wander, in another circumstance. But not right now. Too tired for that.

“You know,” Tony said lightly, as he dug a finger into one of the creams and then smoothed it over the raw skin of Steve’s stomach, “I really don’t like seeing you hurt. It bothers me.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and ducked his chin, but Tony’s eyes remained fixed on his midsection. “It shouldn’t,” Steve told him, “I’m tough. I can deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t fucking have to,” Tony hissed, head jerking up angrily, “at least everyone knows I’m a slippery bastard who will deny his injuries until they eventually kill him. You know that. And you nag and bitch and whine until I go get them sorted. No one- we don’t fucking know when you’re hurt, because you just...” Tony waved a hand, “you just walk around like you’re fine and then pull bullets out of your skin in the privacy of your bathroom and I hate it!”

Tony’s jaw was clenched and his mouth was a tight line as he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I know you- it’s clear as day that you help us all so much on the field. I was just bullshitting because I was angry and you’d nearly died and I just couldn’t- I was a dick. I’m sorry.”

Steve thought back to the harsh words, thrown across the conference room table as both stood rigid on either end. ‘And what do you do, Steve? You have no idea what it’s like to be up there, trying to monitor literally everything that’s going on around you. You just stand there and punch a few targets and then get yourself into some sort of shit that requires a teammate to drag your ass out of it for the sake of the mission! You could’ve been fucking killed today, Steve!’

‘I had total control of the situation, you didn’t need to-’

‘Yes I did, Cap. And it put my job at risk to do it, so maybe in future, just don’t fucking try and get yourself in situations you can’t handle.’

‘Fuck you, I would’ve made it-’

‘NOT WITHOUT DYING!’

He pursed his lips and looked away. Say what you will, but Tony had a point. Steve had no right to complain about his injuries when he was at fault for getting them. He should’ve done better- better for his team, and the people he was trying to pr-

“Steve,” and Tony sounded desperate this time as his hand curled across the underside of Steve’s jaw and pulled his head so he was looking down at Tony, “please don’t use this as a reason to just never tell anyone about your injuries again. I was wrong, okay? I didn’t know you’d been hurt- still shouldn’t have said it, but there you go, I’m not exactly known for saying the right thing, am I? But you need to- you need to let us know when it gets too goddamn much for you, we can help-”

“I told you,” Steve couldn’t help but retaliate with, eyes flashing, “I asked you for help and you told me I was useless!”

Tony paled. “Steve, I didn’t mean th-”

“You know what?” Steve pushed Tony’s hands away and stood up shakily, “just go, Tony- I can sort this out myself. I don’t- I don’t need you t-”

“Well suck it up, sugar, ‘cause I need you, and when you jump headfirst into situations that you can’t hope to contain in some sort of fucking suicide mission, I tend to get a little goddamn angry! So fucking sue me, Steve, but I actually really fucking love you and I cannot fucking bear the thought of you doing this on your own.”

There was a poignant silence; Steve’s eyebrows rocketing up to his hairline as Tony glared angrily up at him. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing from both of them. He opened his mouth, but Tony just shook his head and grabbed his good shoulder, pushing him back down on to the toilet seat. Feeling like his brain had totally short-circuited, Steve obeyed the order.

“Oh, and one more thing- there’s a fucking difference between asking for help when you think there’s going to be a problem, and gritting out my name through the comm when you’re seconds away from being murdered in a situation that you knew would get you hurt, but chose not to warn any of us about beforehand despite that,” Tony told him, eyes firmly looking at the injuries on Steve’s chest again. When he bent down for one of the heavy-duty adhesive bands Bruce had designed for things just like his bullet wounds, Steve saw his hands were shaking.

He tried to think of something, anything to say, but Tony jerked his head again. “Just let me help you, Steve, then I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to argue again,” he said quietly. He sounded sad.

Steve was still reeling from his words before, and so he followed Tony’s orders and remained silent as the man knelt between the V of his legs and worked through his injuries one by one. His fingers were gentle; impossibly soft against the rawness of his skin, and Steve could barely hold back the shivers. Tony’s hands had always been a source of wonder for Steve.

Dammit. Tony’s hands and Tony’s concentration, both fixed entirely on him. If only it wasn’t just because Steve was injured and Tony felt guilty.

Steve sucked in a small breath and bit his lip, looking down at Tony. Sensing eyes on him, Tony looked up, just for a second, before his hand pressed over the place where Steve had yanked out the bullet. It hurt like a motherfucker, and he clamped his eyes shut. “Fucking-”

“Shh, sorry, it’s all good, see, done now,” Tony hurried to assure him, letting the pressure go so that his palm was resting almost imperceptibly against the tough adhesive band now pressed firm against his wound.

Tony was silent as Steve calmed his breathing- hand just pressing a soft assurance into his skin before he got to his feet again. Steve’s eyes followed him, but Tony had his gaze fixed on the obvious dislocation in Steve’s shoulder, and so didn’t notice. “And you were trying to shave with this, were you?”

Steve tried to think of a reply. “I... didn’t want to deal with it just then.”

Tony breathed out a laugh. “Only you, Steve. Only you. Alright- on the count of-”

Tony jerked his hands and Steve cursed a blue streak as fire consumed his shoulder for a moment. On autopilot, his hand flew up and wrapped around the threat, and it took all his composure not to just crush Tony’s wrist between his fingers. As it was, he relaxed almost immediately after taking hold, but found Tony’s own hand gripping right back, grounding him with a soothing thumb running along the back of his palm.

He bit back a ragged choke.  Fuck- he hated dislocations. They never got any easier to deal with.

His head dropped forward, exhausted, but before it could hit his waiting hand he felt it being redirected sideways, into the soft material of Tony’s T-shirt. Fingers curled through his hair and stroked across his aching shoulder, and Steve melted into the touch, burying his face into Tony’s midsection. His whole body hurt. His shoulder ached. The skin on his stomach scratched painfully any time he moved.

Sucking in a series of short, sharp breaths, Steve tried to calm himself back down. It was over now. He was back home. His injuries were...tolerable. Tony was there and he was still holding onto him gently, and it was fucking good; it was good to be treated like he wasn’t just some indestructible empty soldier for once-

Then Tony made to move away, and it was only Steve’s sudden desperation that made his hand grip hold of Tony’s wrist and pull him back in again. “Stay,” he said, voice wavering, “please- please stay. I need you too. I... I love you too. Just. Don’t leave.”

Tony froze; breath catching on his lips as Steve stared helplessly up at him and prayed Tony would just let him have this. Let him be weak.

It was hit and miss for a few seconds. Steve let his hand slacken, miserable, when he saw Tony hesitating. He didn’t want to keep him when Tony had no desire to stay. But as soon as his fingers began to slip away, Tony’s own found them and curled back through them, holding him in place. His heartbeat was rapid.

Tony’s mouth opened and shut a few times, before he just bit his lip and stepped back into Steve’s space again. “I’m gonna burn the Red Skull to the ground,” Tony muttered above him, “fucking watch me.”

Steve shut his eyes and smiled, unspeakably relieved. “Pretty sure he’s my arch nemesis, not yours.”

“Should have thought about that before he did this to you then, shouldn’t he?”

Steve’s mouth twitched fondly. “You know, you don’t... you don’t have to do this. I forgive you. We both said things we didn’t mean in the fight. It’s alright.”

Tony sighed, his hand cupping behind Steve’s ear and pulling him up so he was looking at Tony once again. “Let me make it up properly,” he said with a nervous grin, “what about I take you to dinner? Wherever you wanna go, Steve. I’ll make it happen. It’ll be great, obviously, it’s me, and I am the best at dates. Sort of. I mean- metaphorically speaking. I know all the etiquette, at least- the theory behind my knowledge is definitely- definitely solid. Stop me whenever, by the way, because this will go on for a while if y-”

Steve laughed- couldn’t help it. Tony’s face was going redder with each word and it was just adorable. “What about now?” He asked suddenly, hand squeezing around Tony’s.

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Ohhh, no way,” Tony shook his head with a snort, and Steve’s face fell until Tony added “you can barely even walk, idiot, you think I’m going to take you on the best date of your life now? It’ll ruin the mood.”

Steve frowned. “I think it would be romantic.”

“In what- how in the fuck would that be anything close to romantic?”

“Have you ever had ‘Thank God We Both Survived’ Sex?”

Tony froze, stepping back a little to look at Steve properly. “...Have you?”

Steve answered with a small smile. Tony just choked for a couple of seconds, before blinking rapidly a few times and then smacking Steve lightly across the head. “Don’t do that,” he scolded.

“Do what?”

“Make me short circuit. I am neither used to it nor a fan of it. I should be the one making the sexual comments here. Anyway-” his voice went a little softer, and his hand rested tentatively against Steve’s cheek, like he wasn’t sure where exactly he stood, “you need to rest. Seriously- you went through some shit today.”

Steve sighed, shoulders jumping upward a little. “I go through shit a lot of days. I’m really not that bad- used to it by now.”

Tony made an unhappy sound in the back of his throat, but he didn’t say anything. Just stroked Steve’s cheek with the side of his thumb and gave him a look. Steve watched him through his lashes, and they sat there together in the quiet of the bathroom, Tony’s hand a comforting warmth on the side of his face.

“Bed,” Tony said after another few seconds, eyes flitting downward and crimson spilling across his cheeks once again, “go to- you need to go and rest. That’s what I mean. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Steve raised an eyebrow as he braced his hands against his knees and then pushed upward with a wince. Immediately about 5 different limbs flared painfully, and he wobbled precariously on his feet before being steadied by a solid weight against his side; Tony’s hand curling behind his back and supporting him. “Easy,” Tony warned, balancing out their weight with a hand against the wall, “just take it slow, alright? Good though I am, I didn’t magically cure you.”

“I can feel that much,” Steve gritted as they slowly began to walk out of the bathroom and toward Steve’s bed in the other room. Tony just smiled- the one with his teeth and his dimple and the lines around his eyes- and Steve couldn’t help but watch him, more than a little mesmerised by the sight. Tony’s smile was beautiful.

They finally made it to the bed after a few touch and go moments in which Steve had lost footing and almost faceplanted into the wooden panelling, and Tony gingerly manoeuvred him into a sitting position and then hovered nervously for a few more seconds, unsure. Always happy to help, Steve wrapped a hand around his waist and swung him around, pushing him on to the bed right next to him. Tony landed with a thump and a sigh, and he looked sceptically over to Steve.

“No sex,” he raised a finger in warning, “just sleep.”

Steve nodded solemnly- if with a hint of petulance. “Fine.”

Tentatively, he fell backward. He was already in sweats and no shirt, so they’d be fine to sleep in, and even if they weren’t he probably would have done it anyway. Too tired for anything else at that point.

Tony rested his head against the heel of his cheek and looked across at him. Steve let his head fall sideways, his eyes falling shut as he smiled. “What- not even a kiss goodnight?” He tried.

There was an amused hum from beside him, and then a dip in the bed as Tony leaned forward. Steve opened his eyes just in time to watch Tony’s mouth press lightly into the tip of his nose. He frowned, crossing his eyes to try and focus, and when Tony leaned back and saw him, he burst into laughter.

“Goodnight, Steve,” he whispered happily, dropping back into the pillows and curling closer into the warmth of Steve’s chest.

Steve looked down at him, still partially unable to believe that he’d started off the evening with Tony hurling obscenities at him and ended it with him in his bed. Maybe that was just them, though. Steve couldn’t say he was all that bothered- he needed Tony just as much as Tony needed him. For balance.

“Night,” he murmured, moving his hand to Tony’s waist and curling there gently, “and thank you for being here tonight.”

He felt Tony’s fingers play against the cuts across Steve’s stomach, impossibly light. “Always, Steve.”

He shut his eyes to the sensation of Tony’s mouth against his shoulder, and fell into sleep at the feeling of his lips soothing the ache that had lay there seconds previously.

Yeah. He could definitely get used to that.

[outlawqueenbey]

Tethered To You 25

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11637509/1/Tethered-to-You

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13749177/chapters/31594482

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11637509/1/Tethered-to-You

"She's ours."

Regina stares at Robin and the words he just let out. He saw something. Maybe it was the same memory Rose had shown her earlier that morning.

Robin pants rather heavily as he adjusts Rose in his arms, the little girl holding his gaze with such an intensity it has his stomach rolling. She has his eyes. Not some other man's. But his. That bright sapphire blue they match his own eyes. His dimples are set deep in her chubby pink cheeks. She is half of him. His daughter. With Regina.

Jesus Christ. He knew something felt different this time around, and yes he had hope, but the reality crashes over him like a cold bucket of river water. He has a baby girl. Dear God, he's a father again.

"Regina?" His eyes break from Rose who snuggles into his chest happily, and fly up to the little girl's mother. She is staring at them. Wide eyed and looking almost terrified. "Did you know?"

She swallows thickly and nods, slowly.

"When?"

"This morning."

"Do you think it's real?"

Well in all honesty, it's a good question because no, she isn't positive, but how else would Rose be able to show her Robin or Roland? So it has to be true. Which makes her heart double over. If she trusts it, this gut feeling she's had since the moment she saw Robin at the townhall meeting, then in the truest part of her heart she doesn't need Rose's memories to tell her what she already knows.

Robin is Rose's father.

Which also means that she and Robin... were together in the Enchanted Forest. Which is a whole other topic to tackle. It's odd. Not having the memories but the product of what happened. Clearly, they patched things up and he forgave her... and then, well, Rose is here so obviously they... he... well, she knows she loved him once and it wouldn't have been hard to fall for him again. It's a shred of disbelief that runs through her that it's possible he loved her as well.

Or maybe getting pregnant was just an accident.

Not likely, given her whole infertility potion she once took. How that broke or loopholed around to have her get pregnant is strange and concerning. But what does that really matter. She has a beautiful baby girl.

"I don't know how she would have those memories if it weren't." Regina sighs, and tucks her hair behind her ears as she waits for Robin's reply. Perhaps he's angry with her for not telling him the exact moment she found out. Maybe he doesn't want to have a child with her. That could explain his stunned expression.

"So she is my daughter?"

"Yes."

"Our daughter?"

"Unless I kidnapped a baby that looks like the spitting image of the two of us… she is ours."

Robin beams and Regina's heart stumbles over itself.

He's happy about it.

Actually happy.

Tears flush into her eyes as the reality truly sets in. She has a daughter with Robin. And she damn near lets them fall when she sees his own gaze blur as he sniffs looking down at Rose still nuzzled into his chest.

"I can't believe I have a daughter."

"Imagine waking up to it." She laughs breathlessly as Robin too matches her with a chuckle and bounce of his eyebrows.

"That must have been quite, jarring?"

"It passed rather quickly."

"How could it not? She's perfect." He thumbs over the dark chocolate fluff of hair on top of Rosie's head, leaning down to inhale her baby sweet scent deeply as though he's breathing for the first time.

"Not at three am, wailing incessantly, she isn't."

Robin grins and buries his nose into Rose's head, "Don't listen my precious girl, you are absolute perfection at all hours."

Regina's eyes roll, but she smiles. He's wrapped around her finger already. A doting dad to the core. Regina snorts a laugh, "Yes, well, you can get up with her, see just how perfect she is then."

He stills for a moment and looks back at Regina. Him being allowed to get up with their daughter means that he would be sleeping in the same house as them. Together. With Regina. If his heart hadn't swelled enough already, he thinks that extra added musing she just gave him may have it popping at the seams.

In his arms, Rosie babbles something, pats his chest and bumps her forehead into his chest. She is so tiny. Such a little human being with ten beautiful tiny fingers and toes. And as he settles her on his knees, he takes a true look at her. She does look like him. In minor slight ways. The majority of her features are certainly Regina, not that Robin is complaining, but to see this baby girl is a combination of the two of them. It's rather overwhelming. To the point where tears flush into his eyes as he beams at his daughter.

"You know, my grandmother's name was Rosalie."

Regina's eyebrow arches curiously. "You think we named her after your grandmother?"

"Perhaps?"

"It is a beautiful name."

"Mmmm for the most beautiful girl." He grins as Rosie smacks her tiny palms into his cheeks, scratching the stubble underneath with a ferocious look. He's seen that look on Regina before. When she is consumed with figuring something out. It's a crease in her brow, narrowing of her eyes. "How old do you think she is?"

Regina takes a minute, smiling at the sight before her, unbelieving of how well Robin is taking the entire bomb that's been dropped on him. "Honestly, I don't know. Best guess would be maybe seven or eight months?"

She sees his face fall momentarily, "I've missed so much already."

"You're here now."

Their eyes meet over Rosie's head, and Regina's stomach swirls about when Robin smiles and nods. "And I will not lose another minute." He presses a kiss to their daughter's forehead though his gaze remains on Regina, "With either of you."

She can't help the smile that erupts rather bashfully into her blush tinted cheeks.

They sit together on the blanket for a while, trading glances towards one another every now and then as Roland runs about the playground, oblivious to their new family situation. Robin completely enamoured with Rosie as she grabs fists full of grass blades, holding it up to him for inspection. He asks all sorts of questions about her. Is she a good sleeper? Most of the time. Is she crawling yet? To a degree, it's more of a wiggle still. What soothes her? The rocking chair he built. That has a grin being bitten back.

He comments quietly about his excitement over getting to see her grow up. To be there to rock her to sleep, give her a bath, teach her to walk, figure out what will make her smile and laugh. There had been a point in time where he never imagined himself having more children after Marian had passed, but in the back of his mind he always wondered about how it would be raising a girl.

That has Regina chuckling, because clearly he's already wrapped around their baby girl's finger. And if she isn't careful, Rose will have both her parents eating out of the palm of her hand in no time. Which brings up another question. Roland.

Who is still frantically racing up and down the slide in the park, between the swings and over the monkey bars. He is adorable. And clearly is quite taken with Regina as he skips up beside her, presenting a handful of daisies she accepts with a smile before he sits himself down between her legs.

"I missed you, Regina."

Her hands wrap around his little belly as she nuzzles into the mop of curly brown hair. It's so easy for her to love children. They are her absolute weakness. And Roland is no exception. Even if she doesn't remember him. It feels natural to cradle him into her chest.

"Do you remember me now?"

Her eyes flick to Robin's sadly, and she feels Roland deflate at her lack of answer. "I'm sorry, Roland. But if it's okay with you and your daddy, I was thinking maybe we could make new memories."

"Like what?"

"Well, what's your favorite dessert?"

"Chocolate cakes!"

"How about we make some tonight at my house then?"

"Really?!" He flies around on his knees, squaring them chest to chest and the look he gives her, one of absolute hope and awe, would knock her off her feet if she weren't already sitting. Nodding, she bumps their noses together and Roland giggles, "Eskimo kisses!" He wiggles his own button nose across her a few more times. "Can we have lasagna too? You made the best kind!"

Well, it appears she's already played her hand in the cooking department. She just wishes she could remember it. "Of course, but you have to ask your dad."

"Please daddy! Can we have cake and lasagna with Regina and Rosie?"

From across the blanket Robin is smiling as though he's just seeing color for the first time. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, my boy."

Something in Regina's chest bursts at the smile Robin sends her way. Waking up three weeks ago with a baby girl had been, well, a shock to say the least, but as the pieces are slowly being put back together the full picture is coming more and more into plain sight.

They are a family.

.

..

…

..

.

It didn't take long for Rosie to fall asleep in Robin's arms at the park. All warm and nestled against his chest. Regina had been loathe to pull her daughter out of her slumber for a moment, fastening her into the carseat before she dozed off once more. Robin had stood with Roland by her vehicle, bidding them both a short farewell, telling her they'd be at her house in a few hours and when Robin leaned in to kiss her cheek, Regina's blushed ridiculously red.

The entire drive home, she can't wipe off the silly grin on her lips, nor does the feeling of floating away cease as she turns down the streets and heads home. Eyeing up her left hand on the steering wheel, a particular finger is vacant, and she wonders if they are married. It's not something she truly ever wanted to happen again. But if this situation has taught her anything, it's that the impossible can always happen, if the right person is there.

She bathes Rose first. Getting more soap and suds on herself than anywhere else as her daughter playfully splashes about in the tub, a yellow rubber duck squeaking in her tiny fists. Washed off, dried and lotioned up, she dresses Rose in a navy blue dress, with white trim around the hem and neck, a matching headband bow slid into the soft dark brown crown of hair. She even finishes off the ensemble with a pair of white booties before settling Rose in her bouncy chair as Regina takes a quick shower herself, pulling on a pair of dark denims and a white silk blouse that ties around her waist. A fast application of light makeup, she scoops up her daughter, and heads downstairs and into the kitchen.

The doorbell rings and Rose immediately squeals in her highchair. Her blue eyes sparkling as Regina lifts her and attempts to settle her down on her hip as they make way towards the door, a chorus of happy bubbled "Ba!"'s chirping into the air. Swinging the door open, it's to a bouquet of flowers. A flurry of autumn colours, red roses, orange carnations, yellow lilies and a few white baby's breath to tie it all in together. She takes them with a smile, finding Roland's chubby cheeks behind them, bashful and god damn adorable as she thanks him fondly.

"It was Papa's idea."

"Was it now?"

Her brow cocks up to Robin who's made himself rather busy staring up at the clouds, but she can see the blush behind the grin he bites back. Turning back to his son, she wraps a hand around his ear and leans in to whisper something. It has Robin's eyes flicking down curiously as Roland giggles and nods when Regina presses a quick kiss to his forehead.

Regina stands, and Rose immediately reaches for Robin who takes her gladly. "What are you two whispering about?" He scowls playfully, adjusting his daughter in her arms, "It's not nice to keep secrets."

Roland hums, gives Regina a giddy look before turning his chin up to Robin. "You're right Papa, I have to give you something from Regina." Robin kneels, and Regina's heart skips a beat seeing the three of them all tucked in together. She's just missing one person to make this perfect. Robin leans in as Roland goes to whisper in his ear, but his cheek is met with a wet kiss instead and a rather fierce hug from his boy. Chuckling he scoops him up, holding both his babies as he turns back at Regina smiling like a complete fool.

It's infectious. His smile. It creeps up Regina's spine and lingers on her lips as he bows his head and thanks her. They walk into the house together, Roland escaping from his father's arms and stampede's towards Regina, linking their hands together as the enter the kitchen.

For much of the evening, Regina is caught between complete disbelief and sheer joy. Never did she think she could have this feeling again after leaving Henry. Though her heart still aches at the thought of him, being here with Robin, his son and their daughter has managed to placate the pain. At least for now.

Robin settles on a chair, Rose in his lap, squishing her hands into his face and tugging at the buttons of his pine green shirt. He looks fantastic in green. It brings out the bright blue of his eyes. The tailoring of it enhancing the muscle tone beneath. More than once she spies his tattoo, the one he'd shown her all those years ago. It suits him. A magnificent lion. Strength and protection. It's Robin to a T. Those exact qualities exude from him and he is perhaps one of the only people in this world she genuinely feels safe with.

For much of the evening, Roland is knee deep in cake batter and pasta sauce, sweetly demanding he take part in every step of making their dinner. It's adorable, and it has Robin's heart swelling beyond the confines of his chest as he watches the two of them giggle over chocolate icing, which is more on Roland's face than the cake itself. He finds himself enamoured by her. Everything she does, the smile she gives his son when he dabs her nose with pasta sauce, the softness of her laugh as she wipes it away. Occasionally her eyes flick up to find his, and he flushes at being caught staring rather openly at her.

It's once both cake and dinner are bubbling away in the oven that she finally sits down beside him, close enough he can smell the basil that's lingering in her hair when she leans over to press a kiss to Rose's cheek. And for a little girl who usually doesn't stop moving and babbling, Rose is rather quiet and content where she is. Nuzzled against Robin's chest, his thumb gripped tightly in her tiny fist.

Without really thinking, his free hand slides around Regina's chair, and trails lightly down her back. She stills for a moment, catches Robin's eyes and smiles far too shyly for a woman once known as the Evil Queen. But that's not who she is to him. Never has been. She presses further into his touch, her shoulder leaning into his own as his hand continues it's path up and down her spine, scratching lightly at the base of her skull every now and then. The buzzer goes off far too quickly for his liking, and he visible scowls as Regina retracts herself from his side, chuckling at his frown, and before she can really talk herself out of it, she kisses his cheek.

It stuns them both as she pulls back wide eyed. For a moment they stare at one another, a breath of space between them filled with a hundred questions. Robin's heart thunders in his chest, thrums into the high heavens as he brushes back a lock of hair behind her ear and cups her cheek gently. He tips his chin down, enough that his nose bumps against her own, enough that he can feel the warmth of her breath against his lips.

"Regina! The cake is done!"

It breaks the moment, and Robin sighs with a smile as Regina shakes the fuzz in her brain out, and bites down on her lip bashfully. His heart follows on two wobbly legs as she stands and leaves him with a squeeze to his forearm.

Dinner after that is filled with side glances and shy smiles between them. Roland obliviously happy as he wolfs down his dinner and chatters about silly nonsense in his day. Beneath the table, Robin's hand finds Regina's. And he's quite content to simply sit here, food long finished and hold her hand. It appears, dare he say it, that she too enjoys this. Her thumb swiping soft lines on his palm as she listens ever so intently to Roland's regaling stories of the Enchanted Forest.

He wonders for a moment as his fingers trail along her knuckles, rubbing circles over a particular finger on her left hand, one that is vacant of a diamond, if they are married. He can imagine it. Her in a white dress walking through the tree's towards him. Perhaps at the lake they first met. At sundown most definitely. The way the dimming glow would illuminate the gold colour of her eyes before he kissed her, kissed his wife.

If it did happen, he knows it would have been perfect.

Before long, they are sitting in the living room, dinner left on the counter tops, and Roland curled up in Regina's lap as she reads him a story. His eyes closed before she's even reached the fifth page. She curls her fingers through his unruly wild hair, humming softly as he sleeps soundly against her body, which is fortunately leaning against Robin's chest. The four of them tucked in together on the sofa. If it wasn't for Rose's small whine that escaped as she stretches out in Robin's arm, Regina feels as though she could have stayed just like this forever. With Robin's fingers petting long lines down her arm, the steady beat of his heart against her back. If only she could freeze time.

Rose whimpers again and Regina sighs, turning to find her daughter on the brink of a hungry meltdown. "I should feed her."

Robin nods, "And I should be getting him back to camp."

Regina frowns, wraps her arm tighter around the sleeping boy. She's not ready to let them leave. Isn't sure she ever wants them too again. "There is a spare room upstairs he can sleep in." She feels Robin smile more than she can actually see it. They trade children, and she moves to sit in the single arm chair, wrapping a blanket around her legs as she settles Rose against her breast, listening to the quiet footsteps Robin takes up the stairs.

A sigh leaves her as Rose latches onto her breast, suckling greedily as Regina begins to rock them back and forth gently. She's growing so quickly, it won't be long before it's onto solid foods and Regina will have to relinquish these intimate moments with her daughter.

Robin treads softly back down the stairs, only to have his heart leap from his chest and waddle over to Regina who's currently breastfeeding their daughter on the single dark grey arm chair. He feels it, how his heart climbs up her legs and settles into a warm steady thrumming beat on Rosie's chest as she fills her tummy with dinner. He's fairly certain he's never seen something so perfect as this moment here and now.

Tiny white socked feet wiggling in the air, Regina's eyes half lidded as she smiles something gorgeous down at their daughter, stroking over the light crown of black hair there. She's mumbling something soft and sweet as they rock gently back and forth. It's a quiet peaceful moment he doesn't wish to intrude on. He tip toes towards the kitchen, deciding on that Regina could use a cup of tea.

"Hey. Where are you going?" Her voice stops him mid stride and he grins shyly "I was going to get you a tea." She smiles with a tip of her head, but shakes her head and motions him over towards her and Rosie. He goes far too quickly with very little hesitation. Giddy almost as he slowly settles down on the arm of the chair. With a kiss to the crown of Regina's hair, Robin's eyes linger on their daughter, half asleep as she suckles quietly. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah she is. Sometimes I still don't believe this is all real."

"I know what you mean. But I am thankful for it."

She smiles, turns her face up to meet his eyes, and her heart stumbles over itself at the look he is giving her. One that is full of possibility and if she dare think it, love. She feels it. The way he wraps an arm around her shoulders, twirling a few strands of her hair in his fingers, and dips his chin down so his forehead can rest against hers. "And if this is a dream, I pray I never wake up."

Regina chuckles, and leans harder into him, "That was corny." Her nose nuzzles against the line of his jaw, "I agree with you though." Her lips find the corner of his mouth, resting softly against his stubble as he shifts into her.

"I know there are so many thing we need to talk about, things we don't yet know." He whispers against her cheek, "But I've already missed so much with you, with our daughter." He lands a barely there kiss to her smile, "I refuse to let this chance go."

"Are you sure?" Her heart hammers in her chest as she blinks up at him, scanning his face for answers, for the possibility he honestly wants this with her. To be with her. To be a family together.

"I've wanted nothing more since they day I saw you crying by the lake."

Tears flush her eyes, a single one escaping as she nearly whimpers in relief, his thumb quick to wipe it away. "I just need to know if you want the same thing?" Beneath them, Rose gurgles and stretches out in Regina's arms before nuzzling into her mother's chest and falling asleep. "I think I made that decision a long time ago."

Robin beams, and he captures her lips before his heart decides to burst free.

It's slow. Languid and soft as she presses harder into him, humming at the taste of his mouth, the stubble that scratches lightly on her chin. It feels like home. Where she's always meant to have been. His teeth nip at her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth with a groan, and heat pools deep in her stomach.

She could spend her entire life here. Kissing him. Feeling his heart beat heavy and hard against her palm resting on his chest. His fingers card through her hair, tugging her closer to him if possible, holding her lips to his own as he soaks in their plump softness, the slight indent on her top lip where her scar lays. He loves that scar. Lets his tongue dart out to sample along the line of it. It has Regina moaning in the back of her throat, pressing harder, opening her mouth to him, swallowing down the taste of whiskey on his tongue that maps her own.

"Mom?"

They break apart with a pop. Regina's head turning towards the front door, jaw agape at the voice she just heard.

"Henry?"