#i ask because the clouds in the background are looking a bit too uh... wild-

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Rorveth, Isendain, AND Thronebreaker Snippets + Some Headcanons

I couldn’t decide what to do for WiP Wednesday, so uh... have lots of stuff! We’ve got an Iorveth/Roche snippet, an Isengrim/Eldain snippet, a Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon) snippet AND a little bit about some Thronebreaker headcanons me and @moonlights-ordinance​ came up with today.

Iorveth/Roche:

This is the beginning of an angsty fic wherein Iorveth pines and finds out some unpleasant news. The actual plot of the fic is Iorveth trying to get rid of his feelings, but we’re not there yet.

Iorveth really should’ve known that this day was destined to be hellish the moment that he was jolted from his paperwork daze by the rambunctious shouts of his Scoia’tael outside his office. He sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face, then checking that his bandana covered his scar properly. Only after that did he open the door to see what was sowing chaos amidst his ranks.

No one… actually seemed to notice his presence, which to be frank, was not a problem Iorveth typically struggled with. He was quite good at appearing intimidating and infuriated even when he wasn’t particularly trying. 

But it seemed his elves – and a few of the dwarves – were far too involved in their own gossip to notice him as he walked through the crowd.

“Have you heard–?”

“No way.”

“Guess he loved Temeria so much he married it!” someone chortled.

“Ha! From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort. He must be real good.”

A bout of cackling followed that last remark, and Iorveth had his first premonition that the day was going to suck. But he still didn’t have answers, so he walked straight forward into what would become his own personal hell.

In the center of the crowd, surrounded by countless elves and dwarves, Iorveth was not at all surprised to find his two favorite subordinates – who were rapidly losing that classification. He stepped up next to them, crossing his arms and waiting for them to notice the trouble they were in.

Really, he should have known it would be these two. Rinn, for all that she was nominally well-behaved and quiet, was extremely mischievous, especially when it had the potential to cause minor problems for Iorveth. He would not be surprised if she had planned this. Her companion, Ky, may have been more innocent in that she may not have intended to draw a crowd – but she was absolutely the one spreading the gossip far and wide.

It took a while, but slowly, the chattering grew quieter and quieter as more people took notice of his presence. Finally, Rinn caught sight of him and poked Ky, who was still loudly expounding on something about marriage.

“Something you need to tell me?” Iorveth asked, eyebrow arched high and disapproving scowl firmly in place.

Ky winced, but Rinn looked entirely unrepentant as she signed, the Temerian King made an official announcement today that I caught during my shift.

Iorveth looked at the way more than a few people were biting their lips and avoiding his eye and hummed. “And?”

“Roche is getting married!” Ky burst out as if she physically could not hold it back anymore and Iorveth felt everything freeze.

Married? Vernon Roche!? The erstwhile commander of the Blue Stripes and proud pain in Iorveth’s ass? Who the fuck would he be marrying and why would it be a royal announcement!?

Even though Iorveth himself still felt like he was encased in ice, time seemed to resume for everyone else and chattering rapidly commenced, elves whispering back and forth between themselves and each other.

What was it someone had said earlier? ‘From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort’?

Was… was Vernon marrying King Foltest!?

Rinn must have seen the question on his face, because she nodded and passed over a paper missive.

It felt like moving through molasses to extend his arm and accept the notice that would forever change his life.

The Ancient Royal Line of the Temerian Dynasty Announces the Wedding of

Foltest, King of Temeria, Prince of Sodden, Sovereign of Pontaria and Mahakam, and Senior Protectorate of Brugge and Sodden

and

Vernon Roche, Commander of the Elite Blue Stripes Special Forces Unit, Pacifier of the Mahakaman Foothills, and Right Hand to the King

to take place at the year’s end on the Winter Solstice

Iorveth stared at the announcement, static fizzing through his brain. Vernon. And Foltest. They were getting married!? 

His eye shot up to meet Rinn’s almost imploringly, hoping this was all some big joke. But there was no mischief in her eyes, and her forehead creased with worry as she watched him, clearly wondering what was wrong.

She, at least, appeared to be the only one who had noticed anything amiss in his reaction. The rest of his Scoia’tael were back to loudly gossiping about their enemy’s new status in life.

“Wait, I thought human men couldn’t get pregnant. Isn’t the whole point of a royal marriage to produce an heir?”

“Nah, I’ve heard the whore has a cunt,” someone laughed. “Can you imagine only having one? Sounds lame as fuck. But yeah, supposedly our dearest Commander Roche can make royal babies for King Fuckface.”

Iorveth’s heartbeat stuttered and he inhaled sharply through his nose. He… hadn’t known that. Sure, he’d heard rumors, but the rumors about Vernon were wild and extreme and ranged from his background as a whore to his imaginary sideline in child abduction to his preference for blunt force weapons.

Was this one… true? As he looked back at Rinn for the answer – aside from being the primary spy assigned to Vernon, she also seemed to just inexplicably know things – he could hear the conversation around him moving on.

“Hey, do you think that’s why they’re getting married? Maybe the idiot king knocked up his whore and now he’s gotta marry him!”

“I dunno, did Roche look pregnant at our last fight?”

Rinn nodded the slightest bit and Iorveth brain returned to static. Vernon. Pregnant. That – he hadn’t been aware that that was something he was emotionally invested in, but the storm of feelings racing through his veins proved that he was. He wanted – he wanted to see that, wanted to cause that, wanted to discover what Vernon’s cunt would be like and feel it stretched around him and–

He’d – he’d always assumed that Vernon had a cock, even though he wasn’t quite sure what a human cock looked like. But whenever he’d picture a different future – one where he could choose his own happiness over his cause – it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t know what a human cock looked like. His imagination was more than delighted to fill in whatever he wished, and coming up with different ideas was all that got him through the night at times. 

The idea of Vernon with a cunt was startling. It had never occurred to him before, and now he wondered how he could’ve possibly been so shortsighted. The things that he could do with Vernon’s cunt were limitless and Iorveth’s mind got stuck on that for probably far too long.

He was brought out of his daze by Rinn choking, wide eyes locked on his face. With sudden dread, he understood what she must have seen. What she must have realized.

Iorveth swallowed hard, jerking his head, “give me a proper report.” He turned to head back to his office without looking at her and he wasn’t sure if he was hoping she’d follow or that she wouldn’t.

(the rest under a cut to save your dash)

Isengrim/Eldain:

This is a fluffy bit from a get together fic set post-Reasons of State and we start with Isengrim mourning Dijkstra and Dijkstra’s betrayal.

There was a knock on his door and then Eldain’s voice spoke. “Isengrim? Um. I know you aren’t feeling great, but would you come with me for a bit?’

All of a sudden, then blankness fled under a wave of confusion and curiosity. “What?”

“I – um. I have something for you. But you gotta come with me for a bit. And if you don’t like it, I promise I will not get in the way of your grief, even if that means hiding out in here.” 

Eldain sounded nervous, of all things. Isengrim hadn’t actually known Eldain was capable of feeling nervous.

Why was he nervous?

Isengrim frowned at the door. He wasn’t exactly going to get an answer lying here. And maybe Eldain could keep him from thinking about Sigi and all the pain associated with him for a bit.

It was worth a shot. Besides, he’d come to rather like the other ex-commander quite a bit over the course of working together. Not that they hadn’t worked together before, but there had always been a formality dividing them. Eldain looked up to him, he knew that. Not that Eldain would ever say it, but it was the way Eldain looked at him. A soft regard that one could almost mistake for love, but was truly nothing more than hero worship. He’d seen the same look on the faces of all the young Scoia’tael, but from Eldain, it felt like the thorn of a rose – he hated it, knowing that Eldain would never feel the same, that he was destined to die alone and miserable and a beautiful young musician like Eldain could never be his. But at the same time, he coveted it, coveted Eldain’s regard, because even if it wasn’t what he wanted, it was something. 

He would give anything to have Eldain in his life in any form.

Swallowing hard, Isengrim rubbed his face, then opened the door. 

Eldain was on the other side of the door and his shoulders were slumped in defeat that quickly turned to confusion, one shoulder cocking upwards. 

“What?” Isengrim asked.

“I – no, I just. Thought you’d say no,” Eldain said awkwardly. 

“Does that mean you do want me to go with you somewhere or not?”

“Yeah!” Eldain shook himself, smiling at Isengrim, and it felt as though the sun had emerged from cloud cover, because instead of the nothingness-pain from before, now he felt – too much, really. And some of it hurt, but more of it was pleased to just bask in the rays of Eldain’s smile.

He was only half aware of following Eldain through the house, still a little dazed from the blinding light. But when Eldain came to a stop in front of a closed door, the world seemed to snap back into focus, and he looked to Eldain expectantly.

Eldain fidgeted, feet shuffling. “Um. Like – like I said, if you don’t like it, I won’t force you to stay, but um–” his adam’s apple bobbed and then Eldain opened the door and motioned for Isengrim to enter.

Isengrim took two steps through the doorway and froze. All around him, the room was lit up with dozens of little lights – some up high, some down low, others around his hips. Those ones on the floor guided him towards what looked like a raggedy old blanket draped over the wooden flooring.

“It’s not exactly a starlit picnic,” Eldain shrugged, setting down a basket he hadn’t even noticed Eldain was carrying, “but since we’re laying low, I figured this was as close as we could get.”

“I–” Isengrim was breathless, uncertain of what to say. Awe spread through him as he looked over the dozens of lights, each coming from candles in small lanterns that were hanging from the ceiling all over. He couldn’t think of any words to portray what this meant to him, what it meant that Eldain would go to all this trouble for him. So he was as surprised as Eldain when his mouth said, “isn’t this a fire hazard?”

Eldain rocked back as if he’d been hit, smile abruptly falling from his face.

“No,” Isengrim tried to recover, cursing himself. “I – this is amazing. Is. What I mean. Um. Am trying to say. I – you did this for me!?” If there was disbelief coloring his tone, it was only because he could hardly comprehend the idea of anyone going to so much trouble just to cheer him up.

Eldain’s jaw was clenched, and his expression was a neutral mask that Isengrim hated having put there. Why did he always hurt the people he cared for? Was he truly so tainted that anyone he touched was at risk of infection? Was simply being around him enough to ruin what could be an incredible life for a beautiful young musician like Eldain?

“You don’t have to stay,” Eldain murmured, and Isengrim felt like crying, uncertain whether he wanted to leave and spare Eldain the risk of contamination or if he wanted to stay and bask in this incredible gift that Eldain was giving him.

––

Never before had Eldain wished that Isengrim would leave his presence immediately. But if he stayed much longer, then it was entirely too likely that he would witness Eldain falling apart.

Eldain had always known his silly little crush would never go anywhere . He was even almost fine with that. But he’d thought – he’d thought that Isengrim at least considered him a friend. And yes, this whole production was a little over the top for friendship, but hey, Eldain was an over the top kind of guy.

There was always the possibility Isengrim would hate it. And he’d worried about that and fretted over it, but he hadn’t really expected it to happen. Even if Isengrim was uncomfortable, Eldain would’ve guessed that he’d be polite enough to grin and bear it. Which was far from ideal, but right now, Eldain really wished that he’d done that, because instead it felt like he’d reached into Eldain’s chest and ripped his still-beating heart out, leaving him bleeding and doomed.

“Thank you,” Isengrim said, and Eldain startled. Of all the words he’d expected, those were not even on his radar. 

“What?”

“Thank you. I – you clearly went to a lot of trouble to give me something beautiful. Thank you.” Isengrim said the words easily, and Eldain was confused. That… didn’t sound like Isengrim hated it. “So, what are we eating?”

Eldain’s smile grew slowly, but as Isengrim continued to look expectantly at him, he found that he couldn’t hold it back. He waved Isengrim towards the blanket – one probably as old as the house was, but all the good blankets were in use. “Bread and cheese. Fruit. Some veggies,” he narrated as he pulled the items out of the basket. “Wasn’t sure how much appetite you’d have, so I wanted to keep it light, but if you’re hungry, there’s still some venison in the storeroom.”

Isengrim looked at the objects laid out around them. “I – I don’t know what to say except thank you,” Isengrim said, a smile growing on his face that made Eldain’s heart beat fast. “This is very thoughtful and sweet.”

Eldain flushed, reaching into the basket to pull out the last item. “And, of course, some wine. It’s not exactly high quality, but we’re slumming it tonight anyway.”

The huff of laughter Isengrim let out made it feel like there were wings on his heart, letting it slowly rise. He’d made Isengrim happy. If that was all he ever did in life, he could be content with that.

Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon):

The porn tags for these 3 are sadly lacking, so... have some porn XD The premise here is that they’ve just escaped the Lyrian capital through the sewers and now they’re all washing off in the first river they came across.

They all knew what the venerable Count Reynard Odo was getting up to with Queen Meve upriver. But while the deserters from the Lyrian army and the Strays seemed content with gossiping about it, Gascon felt compelled to seek out more.

Sneaking past the guards ensuring their queen’s privacy with her boytoy even now was honestly pathetically easy. But then, they were probably used to looking the other way for their queen.

Gascon didn’t really know what he was planning, but he knew that he needed to see Meve in the throes of pleasure. The fierce and enchanting queen was currently being ‘serviced’ by her top aide and everybody knew it.

How could he possibly be expected to resist?

But instead of satisfying him, the view before him only made him crave more, because Meve and Reynard were standing about shin-deep in the water with him wrapped around her, hands stroking over her body as her head rested back against his shoulder.

But moreso than the picture they made, what truly drove Gascon over the edge was hearing Reynard tease his queen.

“So eager, your majesty,” Reynard murmured softly. “Could it be that the company of the ever so honorable Duke of Dogs,” his voice was heavily sarcastic, “has gotten you excited? Are you curious what that infuriatingly charming mouth would feel like against your skin?”

Meve arched as Reynard’s fingers skirted just short of touching her clit. “Reynard,” she growled.

Gascon wasn’t certain when his fingers had slipped inside his trousers, but the touch against his cock had him shuddering, already overwhelmed at the very idea that Meve could be fantasizing about him.

“Have you thought about pushing the arrogant bastard to his knees and showing him his place?” Reynard continued and Gascon bit his lip hard against a moan. “Have you pictured him, lips stretched around your widest strap, eyes tearing up from the effort of it?”

Meve whined softly, reaching up to tug Reynard into a kiss.

Gascon had never seen a filthier kiss in his life, and he stroked himself faster, picturing what he would do if he could join them. She may not have a strap handy to gag him on, but he was sure they could come to a compromise.

“Do you imagine him kneeling before you, begging for you?” Reynard rumbled and Gascon almost missed Meve’s sound over his own. Which meant that Reynard knew he was there when the Count continued, “I’ve no doubt the crass mutt is a marvel with his mouth.

Later, Gascon would claim that he spoke before he could even think about it, proclaiming, “I am.”

In reality, he spent a long moment contemplating how to respond. Getting caught spying on sex typically ended one of two ways: either you got invited to join in or you got beaten to a pulp.

He was fairly hopeful that the first option was more likely than the latter, but he wasn’t sure, and in the seconds of silence that followed his words, his heart pounded in his chest and pulse raced and he felt on the edge of either agony or elation.

“In that case,” Meve’s voice broke the quiet with all the firmness of having made a decision, “come pay homage to your queen, Gascon.”

Even though he’d hoped this was how things would go, he still felt utterly amazed that she had actually said yes. 

He stepped through the buses, trying not to look like he’d been caught with his hand down his pants. “Your Majesty,” he bowed his head with a playful smirk and then sent her a wink just to top it off.

Meve looked every bit the dignified queen as she held out a hand that should have held her signet ring. They had taken that from her when she’d been captured, but Gascon found himself licking his lips, taking her hand and kissing her ring finger as if he were a knight pledging her fealty.

Her gaze was hot on him as he slowly kissed up her arm, and unlike the two of them, he still wore his armor – which meant that he could pretend no one saw the way that his cock twitched when Reynard reached out and knocked his hat off, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling his face down into Meve’s chest.

Obediently, he applied himself to worshipping Meve’s tits, taking Reynard’s lead and only giving her glancing brushes across her nipples, denying her touch.

Meve growled in frustration, grabbing his hips and pulling him into her until the bulge of his cock rubbed over her pelvis. Her cunt greeted the contact with a gush of slick, staining Gascon’s pants and making him pant with arousal. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, grinding into her. She arched with a cry, fingers digging into his ass and Gascon desperately wished that there wasn’t a layer of fabric between his cock and that glorious cunt. But how could he pull away to fix that when his time could be better spent licking and sucking and biting at Meve’s glorious tits? Gods, they were beautiful, plump and sensitive, to the point that nipping at one nipple while squeezing her other tit was enough to make Meve’s body jerk, bucking into his hips as she utterly drenched his pants.

“Fuck,” he whimpered again, then dropped to his knees and buried his face in her cunt.

Thronebreaker Headcanons:

Okay, so as I’ve been getting to know Meve, Reynard, and Gascon and have started writing different plots with them, I’ve decided a few things. There’s going to be 1 universe of fics that falls under the “homophobia exists” universe that I talked about here. However, I know that’s not everyone’s boat and like, sometimes I just wanna write context-less porn, so definitely not all fics will! But I have several ideas already in that ‘verse, especially looking at the chronic pain Reynard has as a result of things.

So, specific to that ‘verse, one headcanon is that Reynard was whipped specifically for being queer and almost died from it. The wounds healed, but not... well, not the greatest. There wasn’t a lotta care taken with it. Which means that his back pains him A LOT and there’s a lotta things that he has to do different. For example, I’ve decided he sits in chairs like Riker does, keeping his back straight so that he doesn’t stretch the scar tissue. His range of motion is also limited in a lot of ways, but he’s found ways to compensate and hide it over the years. (just as an FYI, Riker sits like that, ‘cause Frakes had a back injury and doing that was less painful)

Okay, now WITHOUT the homophobia that led to chronic pain - I’ve decided that each of the Throne3 need to have a niche hobby that occupies them in their limited spare time (developed with much help from @moonlights-ordinance​). Sooooo:

Meve:

Meve likes sewing. She doesn’t like people to know she likes sewing, because it’s closer to a traditionally ‘feminine’ than she usually aims for, but she actually really enjoys it. 

On their journey, this comes out when Gascon’s shirt gets ripped and when he complains about it a lot, she just grabs it and mends it. This leads to her spending the evenings mending all the different clothing from the soldiers and the Strays.

I think she learned sewing from her father and he taught it to her in an attempt to get her to just sit still for five fucking minutes!! 

Not directly related to sewing, but because her mother was busy being queen, she was largely raised by her father, who was an Ofieri Marquis (like, 2nd level nobility, under a duke) whose family paid a substantial sum in order to win the match. He was not popular at court and therefore found himself largely shunned by the peerage, but it left him with basically all of his time to devote to his children. (Does... does Meve have sisters?? Queen Kalis supposedly bore several girls???)

Reynard:

Reynard likes to crochet. Specifically, he likes to crochet little plushies. He’s not too picky about what he makes, and whoever is in range when he finishes it will likely end up gifted with an unexpected plushie.

At one point, he finished making a stingray, only for a passing soldier to dub it a Sting-Rey. Thus, Lieutenant Sting Rey was born. The troops listen to Lt. Sting Rey better than they listen to General Odo lmao.

He has a habit of crocheting in the evenings in the mess (maybe with Meve mending nearby) and random soldiers (and Strays) like to sit around his feet so that when he finishes a lil plush, they might get it. And when he starts a new one, he might take requests.

I could say so much more about the plushies he makes for Gascon and Meve, but I guess I’ll save that for a fic. But I gotta share these pics, ‘cause they’re so fucking cute. So: a donkey for Gascon (’cause he’s an ass) and a Lyrian eagle for Meve (’cause it’s Lyrian lol).

Gascon:

Gascon likes dancing! Specifically, he was trained in ballet from a young age (like literally a year old is when you start, apparently) and was trained as a ballerina (meaning he will be lifted/led instead of doing the lifts/leading). By the time he ended up on the streets at 12 (8 in canon, but my guy needs to at least be 20), he was pretty damn good at it - and so he ended up teaching the Strays

The Strays have a ballet troupe that puts on performances for the gang on occasion as like, a bonus to music night or something. Semi-spontaneous and very fun.

Gascon is SCARY flexible (like, to the point that Reynard is a little horrified that the human body can do that) from dance and he definitely uses that to his advantage.

He 100% gets everyone to dress up all fancy and put on makeup and do their hair and shit. After all, they steal all this fancy shit from the nobles - why SHOULDN’T they enjoy it?

And there you have it! Sorry for the super long post, but also... enjoy?

#rorveth #isendain #throne3 #iorveth x roche #isengrim x eldain #meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker #the witcher #wip wednesday #fic planning

[rainbowrider1290]

Part 3 of my take on a genshin impact circus AU: Bennett, Fischl, and Razor as a beast-taming trio. Backstory under the cut.

Benny:

Bennett was adopted into a research team of zoologists (what in canon would be the adventurer’s guild). The ones that go out into the world and get their hands dirty in studying animals. He loved interacting with the animals, and though research was interesting, he always spent more time with the animal caretakers and vets than with the researchers so he’s extremely acquainted with their habits, how to feed them, when to keep them in captivity versus the wild, and how to regulate their environment properly when in captivity. He has this knack for interacting with them, even the big ones.

As for how he got into the circus: Well first off he got wind of how poorly these animals are treated in some circuses and got into the circuses for the caretaking purposes. He would hop from circus to circus to take care of the animals and show the performers how to Not Harm Them (like tigers jumping through hoops on fire??? Nuh-uh. Whips, tight collars, and muzzles? We don’t do that here). He certifies himself as a vet after a while of this.

More time passes and he realizes this is a bigger problem than can be solved by himself. He’s been kicked out of a few places and for a while had terrible luck finding work because some of his previous employers didn’t want to spend the extra resources on animal care (lacking funds and lacking planning for it) and spread word of a legal liability of a vet.

Aether and Lumine catch word of this and track him down to a little animal clinic where he works as an intern. They offer him a spot in their circus bc they’ve been wanting to introduce animals into the mix but want to plan correctly (like how many animals they can support properly). Long story short, Bennett gets into the circus and works with Yanfei to actually become a legal liability to the circuses not treating animals correctly, and he himself will take as many of those animals as he can into his corner of the circus and send the rest to his dads (since circus animals tend to be rare breeds and his dads have a branch of research on captive animals). And finally he can take care of his animals and show the world that you don’t have to harm animals for a good show. Mostly big ones like elephants, big cats, and camels.

He’ll do shows more like synchronizing movements between the animals and tricks like they do with marine animals. They do have cages for transport but they’re spacious and they take frequent breaks for physical activity. Benny will only take the animals that have been domesticated their whole lives and will send the ones fit to live in the wild to his dads to set free.

Fischl:

Fischl was born into the circus life and was that kid who would stop people from killing bugs, take them in a glass container, and set them outside. She regularly patches up the birds with broken wings she finds outside.

Def spent more time outside hanging with the birds than with the people in the circus, since birds aren’t technically a circus animal. Oz is an old old vulture (or falcon, I haven’t decided yet. If anyone can pinpoint his species please let me know) that has taken a liking to Fischl and so no matter where her circus goes, she sees Oz there to hang and bring her injured birds.

She once asked if birds could be circus animals and was told that they tried but it didn’t work out. She gets into reading the obscure materials on birds as circus animals and deduces that they just weren’t taking care of them right. She brings up this idea to the circus manager and essentially gets the door slammed in her face. The last time she asks about it, it’s to her parents and is told to find something realistic to do in the circus and forget about the birds.

From then she sees all the other kids her age in the circus training to be in the show in some way or another and hears what they say about her “head in the clouds”. So she starts training with different branches of the circus (gymnastics-based, death-defying stunts, fire, etc.) and she... genuinely considers leaving to pursue another profession.

Then as her circus is about to get on the road, she catches wind of a circus performing in the town they’re just about to leave. One that uses animals, and since her circus never used animals due to lacking funding, she goes for a night out of curiosity and on the off-chance that they use birds. She noticed that this wasn’t anything like she’d heard about or read about circus animals, so she sends them a letter addressed to the person running the animal part of the show asking about birds in the circus.

Benny’s response boils down to “well it’d be a little complicated but what’d you have in mind?” so they start exchanging letters and the next time the two circuses are near each other, she goes on over and brings all her letters after a show and sees how gentle Bennett is with the animals. They get to talking and Benny takes her to meet the animals, telling her about how he does things while she tells him about how she’d go about introducing birds to a circus.

Aether and Lumine hear about this and before she knows it, Fischl’s being told to get her birds ready, she has an audition in a month (spoiler alert: she passes). Her act is made up of all kinds of birds. Very few of them are housed on the circus for very long since she’s never liked the idea of birds in cages. The birds she uses are all the injured ones in the process of rehabilitation brought to her by Oz. She also keeps the ones that won’t fly again or never learned to find food despite her and Oz doing their best to socialize them. Those that don’t perform are excellent at taking care of the newbies and overall helping Fischl out. 

At any given point she’ll be seen with about 3-5 birds of different sizes on her and she’ll always smell a bit like worms and seeds of various kinds. She expands on her first-aid abilities from watching Bennett, and in turn offers knowledge on birds and how to deal with smaller animals with different bone structures, metabolisms, and cardiovascular systems.

Razor:

Razor’s story is a lot simpler. Backstory is essentially the same as in canon, except he doesn’t meet Lisa right away, and spends a little more time with Varka learning to read and write at the most basic level and fight hand-to-hand. Instead of an abyss mage attacking them, it’s a group of hunters. During this fight, a lot of the wolves are gravely injured but he takes one of them and runs into town looking for help.

After a show, Bennett and Fischl are on their way to see Bennett’s dads to take some birds that can’t handle the circus life but also aren’t fit to be free. They happen to be in the town where Bennett trained to be a vet and they stop by the clinic to say hello. Inside they see a boy dressed in rags and covered in dirt cradling an unconscious wolf pup, trying to get the attention of one of the clerks. One of the clerks tries to help him but the communication barrier is not helping them and the boy seems distressed on top of that, pointing and growling with the word “help” thrown in here and there, so Bennett steps in bc he knows some of these people in the clinic.

Bennett comes in and he and Fischl follow him out to where the rest of the pack is. Fischl brings her birds bc they’re her babies in case anyone was wondering. They perform first aid the best they can given the conditions, and manage to save a good chunk of the wolves, but a good chunk of them still die.

The pack splits up into two. On the one hand, the older wolves take whoever’s still alive and resume their activities in the forest. On the other, Razor has this opportunity to go and find out whether he’s a human or a wolf, and the little wolf pup he brought to the clinic goes with him because she’s too injured to go with the others. Same for a few other wolves.

So they go and the only place they have to stay is the circus bc Bennett and Fischl want to monitor the wolves a little more, so they spend the night. Next morning, Razor gives Fischl and Bennett a basket of meat, berries, and seeds to feed their respective animals and they realize Razor has some valuable skills, so he ends up staying upon receiving the OK from Lumine and Aether and telling Lisa and Ningguang for administrative purposes.

Because wolves inherently do not do well with loud noises and circus settings, Razor is very off-put by the idea of performance. Not to mention that he himself probs wouldn’t feel comfortable in the performance setting, so he sticks to the background (even learning the basics of tech) and gets really good at gathering resources from food for the animals to helping Oz bring back injured birds and track other injured animals. He and Oz interact a lot, which helps his friendship with Fischl as he was initially closer to Bennett.

His relationship with Lisa after a while can be summarized as “focus up you little monsters. not you Razor. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact circus AU #genshin circus AU #genshin impact razor #genshin impact bennett #genshin impact fischl #I think this would be set in the late 1800s to early 1900s so there's like very few laws on animal care but they're still sending letters #and it probs wouldn't take bennett as long to become a vet #circus AU #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons

[jinnwenhe]

Number 51 with Bede and a male/enby reader? :O! I rarely find anyone who's willing to write for non female coded readers so im really glad I found your blog!

Used artwork credit here

A/N: i got the name of the prompt wrong but we dont speak of that— ANYWHO, im glad i could get the chance to write this for you then, anon! Yeah i rarely came across blogs that are gender neutral about their imagines too :/ hopefully you'll enjoy this though!

(7,915 Word Count!)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bede wasn't quite the type to show his concern over others, even when he got close to you and developed feelings for you. He's not used to express his emotions other than being cocky and looking down upon others. But this time, it was different.

You promised him that you'll help him out for the day at his gym, considering its the time where numerous of challengers comes barging in the stadium, asking for the badge that'll get them to the next gym leader. Bede didn't mind them, he never did. It was just that some of them were starting to get to his nerves; challengers bringing their toxitricity to the stadium and using sound based moves, blaring right in his ears— oh for Arceus's sake, let the battle end already, the poor boy's ears are becoming somewhat sensitive if they kept doing that repeatedly.

That being said, he waited and waited for you to come, but eventually, you never did. He pondered over what happened to that awfully irritating (yet lovable) rival of his as he walked out of his gym, telling his assistants to close it for the day and inform the challengers to screw off. He got better things to do than to listen to those damned pokemon singing and spatting poison out of their mouth, hurting his little fairy friends.

"Oh whats with you today" The white haired boy murmured under his breath, looking at his rotom phone and deciding to call you. Sure he has thought of the many possibilities of you being busy due to your new Champion of Galar title, but never even once you bailed him like this— or so he thought.

A heavy string of huffing was heard on the other side of the phone, which makes Bede rise his eyebrow and question about what in Galar are you doing at the moment. His mouth stayed shut while waiting for you to ramble out your explanation, well, an explanation he deserves to know.

Why you ask? Because beneath that smug exterior of his, he's deeply concerned when it comes to you. Tell him a fake information that you've been defeated by some random kid and he'll immediately abandon his gym, looking all pissed and irritated as he stomp his way out of the place. Oh what he wouldn't do just to see your smile.

Though, would he admit that? No, even in the name of Arceus, he wont.

Then, finally you answered with voice indicating that you're slightly tired, "Oh, uh, B-Bede!!" You exclaimed, trying to sound as alright as you could. He could hear you dusting your clothes as you speak, Cinderace in the background chirping with other pokemon playing around the area. Oh boy, you have a lot of explaining to do.

The white haired boy tapped his foot against the ground , waiting for you to finish your sentence. He also asked his Galarian Rapidash to track your scent down, and lead him to you, in the most quickest way possible. You're probably having trouble with your pokemon again, or getting surrounded by your fans, one of the two.

Still, its most likely you're experiencing the first scenario, looking at how you're more active in the wild area rather than in cities. "Enough said, im going where you are right now," Bede said in a stern tone, making your eyes widen a tad bit. You didn't even get the chance to explain to him! You only greeted him and yet he's going to visit where you are right now? Holy Suicune, you're a mess.

"Stay there, dont move"

A sigh slipped past your lips as Bede hung up. Better get going and make yourself somewhat decent then. You were chasing a Galarian Zapdos, one of the legendary bird trio and it didn't go well. The lightning avian clearly lived up to its name by having a lightning speed under it's wings, which made you tumble down your bike a few times while trying to get close to the said legendary pokemon.

It's worth it though, now Zapdos is right infront of you with a soothe bell tied loosely around it's neck, lowering it's head down waiting for you to give it affection. Its cute really, and you wondered if Bede will like this newly captured pokemon of yours. On the other hand, he might not like the scratches you got from falling off your bike, and tripping over baby pokemons— no worries, no pokemon were harmed during this process of capturing Zapdos.

Of course it hurts when you tried to patch your wounds up, some of it were caused by the legendary electric bird itself as you were trying your best not to harm the said pokemon in the process of capturing it. Zapdos did express concern over you when it saw you slightly in a pinch trying to capture it though, and it tried to make you feel better by occassional nuzzling against you, sparking electricity in your hair.

Its never a dull moment in the wild area, Really.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Half an hour passed and your said knight in shining armo— i mean Bede- Bede finally arrived with his Galarian Rapidash.

His eyes widened the moment he saw you visibly being a mess, not minding about the legendary pokemon thats taking a seat beside you as an act of cheering you up. He looks irritated, annoyed and slightly pissed when he saw you not taking care of yourself properly— you never did, you're careless, the wounds will heal anyways and your pokemon will help it heal, thats why you didn't mind it much.

The fairy type gym leader immediately makes his way to you as his Rapidash follows close behind him, incase he needed assistance.

"You...What happened?"

Bede lifted your left arm up as you faced him while he was examining your wounds. You stayed quiet until he looks up at you again, Violet eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

You didn't answer his question and you simply gestured at the legendary bird pokemon beside you, no other explanation can be better that that anyways, and you're not in the mood to waste your energy by talking too much.

Bede blinked a few times as he finally recognized that you have captured a Galarian Zapdos, the Galarian Zapdos that's said to rule over thunderstorms and making a nest between the electrifying clouds right before a storm starts. Basically the Zeus of Galar, if you will. He was quite amused to say the least, though he didn't expect less from the Champion, but risking your life just to capture a legendary? Yup, thats his rival alright, you and and that reckless stubborn head of yours, not to mention you're often oblivious to Bede's acts of care and affection, resulting in the white haired boy blushing intensely.

A sigh slipped past Bede's lips as he rubbed a potion over your wound, followed by a hiss of pain from your side. You wanted to yank your hand off his hold, "Bede, its alright, i can take care of myself" you muttered as you watched the male infront of you carefully spreading the healing liquid over your wounds, trying his best not to hurt you by doing so.

His Violet eyes looked up at you, then looked back down on your wound, not caring about your complaints.

"Let me take care of you," He said as he was preventing the subtle blush from slowly dusting his milky white cheeks; his fingers that were gently massaging that one specific area on your arm stopped before he checked for your other arm- which, you obliged and gave him your other arm to inspect without any hesitation.

What surprised you the most is that he muttered out those six specific words. The words that you thought would never leave past his lips whatsoever, and yet here you are sitting on a giant rock with him treating your wounds from before as he insisted on taking care of you.

Why does he care so much?

"Bede i said—" before you could continue his sentence, his grip on your arm suddenly tightened by a bit, afraid of you yanking your arm off.

"I want to take care of you." the tone he was using was so sweet, so kind and sincere as if its not Bede who said that; it was slightly shaky too, probably caused by him gradually becoming even more flustered by his honest feelings. This only made you smile warmly, seeing how well Bede is taking care of you— you just remembered that you two are supposed to be in the Fairy Type gym by now, helping the said gym leader with handling the oncoming bundles of challengers.

You, being the oblivious Champion that you are, laughed softly and nudged your cheek against his in an affectionately way while saying a light-hearted thank you along the way. You let the boy take care of you and your wounds as Zapdos stayed quiet by your side, observing the two of you and your actions. You're completely calm and amazed by Bede's knowledge when it comes to potions and healing stuff. Maybe you should learn a few things from him after this then.

Bede on the other hand was a complete mess. Oh how the tables have turned. Your little action of nuzzling against his cheek made him turn beet red; various shades of red covering his cheeks and spreading towards his ears. He avoided any eye contact with you, he knew better than to say anything and embarrass himself even more on the spot, so he stayed quiet, and let you do your silly little affectionate actions. He enjoyed it anyways— not that he'd admit it.

"D-dont do that so sudden next time."

He managed to croak out, voice slightly different from before caused by the amount of blood rushing to his face and ears, not to mention his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Arceus- this feeling is so sickeningly lovely, he hated it, and yet he also loved it. You replied with a soft 'Mhm' before he continues to treat your wounds.

Oh its never a dull moment with you.

#Bede #Bede pokemon #Pokemon #Pokemon sword #Pokemon shield #Pokemon sw sh #Pokemon sword and shield #Pokemon imagines #Bede x reader #Bede x male reader #Bede x nonbinaryreader #Bede/biito #Fluff #Requests

[bibbykins]

the brunch event is here I’m excited!!! @ all MCs, what’s the sweetest fluffiest thing the guys have done for you / you’ve done with the guys? (craving some fluff today, hope you don’t mind!)

(Holy shit, this was longer than I intended but I hope you like it!) (Also this is long and I'm on mobile so I'm sorry for no read later thing here pls dont be mean to me)

Warnings: crying, PTSD, phantom pains/touches

The girls all smile at the question and decide the order they'll go in before Leopard takes a sip of her mimosa and speaks, "One day, Jin said he was taking me to go look at some clothes for an event we'd have to go to," She relaxes in her seat, fingers curling around the champagne glass gracefully, as if she's proudly told this story a million times, "Then, we pull up to a storage place and I'm like 'okay, so you're murdering me?'" She laughs in spite of knowing he's capable of murder, "He takes my hand and then takes me into a unit and in there are sketchbooks upon props and prototypes that I had ever made." She grinned at the thought, "I had started doing stage design and writing when I was 16 and my family never took home my props or anything, so I thought they were just... gone, and then here they all were." She sighed dreamily, "It just... made me feel like someone was proud of that 16 year old hurting herself on nail guns trying to build, or that 18 year old who took an hour to control a sander, it made me feel so exalted for my hard work."

Princess and Dove are already tearing up despite having heard the story before and Leopard holds their hands until they calm down, knowing they will absolutely cry when everyone is done telling their stories.

"Ah, it's my turn!" Sunshine gleams, "I'm pretty easy to make happy, like ordering my favorite food is groundbreaking to me no matter how often you do it." The girls giggle and nod at this, "But, there was one time we on our way to do our engagement photo shoot at the restaurant we had our first date, but then he pulls over and tell me he wants to show me something." She can't contain her growing smile, "And I'm confused, becuase we stop at this beautiful lake and he hates the outdoors." She chuckles at this, "But then he leads us into a beautiful field with wild flowers and a camera with a tripod." Princess has already let tears fall at this point, "And he tells me this is our engagement photoshoot, something just for us." Sunshine takes a bite of her crepe, "It was just so sweet and grounding since everything something happens with us, it's publicized, which is fine for the most part, but for him to set something up that's just for us to have, especially in nature, so sweet." The girls all giggle and coo at Sunshine.

"Oh, no! I know what story Sweet Pea is gonna say and I'm totally gonna break!" Odette grips Sunshine as the woman in question giggles.

"It's okay, I cried like a baby too." Sweet Pea giggles and she begins cutting Princess's pancakes for her like she always does, "So he was taking me to a gallery, didn't tell me for who for some reason, but you know me, I love a good exhibition." She snickered, "When we get there, I realize it's for my favorite enameler, or art jewler. He uses this beautiful etching technique and makes some stunning intaglio pieces I absolutely adore." The girls all mentally prep their tear ducts for the next part, "And so he has me meet the artist, and I'm freaking out the whole time and trying to hide it, until the artist tells me he has a piece he want to show me." She has excitement on her face just thinking about it, "And he takes me to a piece I haven't seen before and isn't with the new collection. It's an aquamarine pendant with a beautiful silver chain that had parts of a see through material interwoven. The gem was held in place with a beautiful silver trim that looks light and airy, like clouds almost, and in the pendant is this beautiful etching of a familiar skyline." Odette wipes a tear away at the speed of light, "And then Namjoon tells me it's the skyline from where we first met on that forsaken sky bridge and the silver with glass represents the steps that lead me to him." The girls coo at Sweet Pea tearing up for a moment.

"Ah, it's my turn!" Odette wipes away tears frantically, "Mine is quite simple, but it meant a lot to me." She smiles gleefully, "For background, before I majored in journalism, I was a dance major, contemporary, but I had an injury and was out of commission for too long by the time it healed. I didn't even tell Jimin until we had been dating for a couple months, I feel weird talking about it sometimes." She shrugged simply, "So I beacame his practice partner after that, which was fun, and one time we soent ages practicing thus one choreo bc he claimed he didn't want to practice with his actual partner, ever the drama queen." She giggled, "Then, the day of the showcase comes and he reveals that the dance was choreographed for me and him and it's our showcase." She held a toothy grin, "He gave me the feeling of being a dancer again, and it just felt like the closure I needed that I never got from my dancing career."

"It was a beautiful showcase." Angel nodded in agreement and Odette beamed at her praise while the other girls nod.

Dove hums as she chews her food before speaking, "So I do hand stitching, right? I don't think I'm very good..." All the women scowl at her, "But, they and Taehyung think I'm great at it and it calms me down so I make them a lot of hand stitched art or monogrammed clothing or I do commissions for their family." She smiles shyly, "So one day, Tae-Tae says he's taking me to Sweet Pea's gallery, but when we get there, it's all of my pieces up there. And the whole time people are greeting me and telling me how talented I am, asking what pieces they can buy and offering crazy prices, not that these guys would let go of my pieces." She snickered and the girls nodded proudly, "My name was in articles the next day, and he made me feel like I was someone to show off, like I was the impressive one, or impressive at all."

"Because you are impressive, hello?" Sunshine teased.

Princess has mascara streaks on her cheeks and Sweet Pea begins digging through her bag for makeuo wipes, "Uh, I'm not really good at storytelling and I'm a mess, so I'll make it quite short." She sniffled, "inhave this horrible habit of making clothes I hate and then donating them and Kook is always so dramatic when I do, like he has any business with a spring dress that would rip under his bicep." She giggles for a moment as Leopard begins wiping her cheeks, "And then he takes me to fashion week and...and..." She starts crying again and Odette coos at her, "My work, he had me on there as an up and coming designer and people were so nice to me and everytime I got overwhelmed, he took the reigns and it... my childhood dreams came true." She laid her head in Angel's lap, knowing it was her turn. The woman in question strokes the younger's hair soothingly.

Before Angel can even speak, all the girls are holding her hand or holding her and she rolls her eyes playfully, smilimg at the affection, "This why I'm going last." She giggled, "They get like this everytime I tell this story, even Leopard cries."

"Shush." Leopard, who is standing behind Angel's chair and stroking her hair quips, embarrassed, "We just care about you." She huffs.

"Well, it was a year after... the incident." Dove begins braiding Angel's hair to hide her incoming tears, "And I tried to go to work, but my body was not having it, so he stayed home with me and did everything the therapist said to grounding techniques and all, and stuff I could've done on my own, but he insisted." She smiled, "When dinner came around, I began feeling... phantom touches, pains. Like, my cheek ached and my tongue felt like it was burning, everything." Her smile was a bit sad, "It's normal with PTSD, but it doesn't make it any less frightening and none of the other grounding techniques were working, so he sits me on the counter, plays my favorite music, and begins 'treating' my wounds." Princess has her head in Angel's lap, but everyone can tell she's crying, "So for hours, he's there and showing me the clean gauze after treating my phantom wounds so delicately, and it really brought me back into the moment, that this is the man who loves me and this is where I am now." She smiles despite all the other girls being teary-eyed messes.

#seven princes of campus #seven princes brunch event #yandere bts

[n6or]

don’t leave me | raihan nsfw

Rating: Explicit 

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply 

Category: F/M 

Fandom: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions 

Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/ReaderDande 

Additional Tags: Self-Insert, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Drunk Sex

Words: 4456

READ HERE ON AO3!

It was a blur, really. A messy night of open-mouthed kisses and desperate touches between two hopeless singles. His mouth had found the soft skin of your neck, sucking, biting, bruising the beautiful canvas with his own work of art. Your back had arched up off his bed, thighs trembling as strong hands caressed your supple curves. Even drunk he had you wrapped around his finger, flushing furiously as his hot breath fanned against your ear. You knew it was a mistake—knew that it was just a drunken fling, but the way he held you, the way he whispered those sweet nothings as if it were only the two of you left in the world… it made your heart flutter.

And that’s why, when the first rays of light disrupted your sleep, you knew you had to leave. The light that filtered through the thin curtain made your head throb- made you want to groan and grumble in annoyance, but that would stir Raihan.

Raihan.

Ah.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and blinked.

Morning blurs were the worst...

From your right came a quiet grumble, the Dragon Tamer clearly disturbed by your efforts of reaching over to grab your glasses from the bedside table. You bit your lip once his very strong (and very naked) arm tightened around your waist.

The way the sun poured through from your left, highlighting his beautiful, brown complexion… It made your heart flutter. It reminded you of why you had to leave. And that’s why you did. With no note, no goodbye, and no apology, you left.

Raihan was your best friend--he had always been your best friend. Ever since you were children you had been inseparable; wherever one was, the other wouldn’t be too far. You both followed very strict rules. Very strict rules imposed by a certain dragon gym leader. You were best friends and that was it. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, of accidentally breaking your heart and having you leave him forever.

“I mean, it’s not like you even like me, so it’s not too much to ask, yeah?”

The way he smiled that day almost knocked the wind from your lungs. How could he be so dense? You weren’t sure if you wanted to yell or cry or both. So instead, you smiled and gave him a sharp nudge of the elbow to his ribcage.

“Of course I don’t like you, idiot.”

You rushed down the brick pathway of Hammerlocke, praying that you could just make it back home without too much disturbance. Thankfully, it seemed as if your author was kind and you returned home to have a brisk shower. You grimace at the constellation of reds and purple that litter your chest, neck, thighs, shit!

“Good job, Dragon tamer,” you growl before drying yourself off and changing into your uniform.

There’s a shaky sigh as you pull on your lab coat, noticing the way the red blemishes (along with the very prominent bite marks) are still visible above your collar. Tapping your foot repeatedly, you let out another heavy huff, removing your glasses for a moment.

“Stupid idiot,” you mumble again, voice quiet, shaky. You rub your temples, fingers trembling slightly. “You ruin everything. Every single damn time!” Whether your words were directed at Raihan or yourself, you don’t quite know… but the burn in your chest doesn’t ease up at all.

The memories of last night ache your head as you stroll into the research facility, scarf around your neck, eyes fixated on the floor as you make your way to your desk.

“Heya~ Well don’t you just look beautiful~” Sonia is laughing as she approaches your desk, twirling some of her ginger hair. “I didn’t think you’d really get that drunk! You almost outdrank me!”

You grimace at the thought, adjusting your glasses.

“Y-Yeah… It was pretty wild, I guess.”

“Hm… and you disappeared sometime after Raihan left, too!” Sonia is pouting and you can feel the anxiety swelling in the pit of your throat. “Did you both get home oka-”

“Delivery!”

Thanking the heavens above, you shout suddenly, “I’ll get it!” Before leaving your desk. You sign for the package and ignore the chuckling comments made about your scarf in the summer heat. You just smile and bid them a safe journey before closing the doors.

Staring down at the box in your hands, you worry your lower lip, teeth anxiously raking at the soft skin. You could avoid talking about it, but you couldn’t avoid the way you felt about it. Your stomach was shallow and your chest felt . . . weird. You couldn’t describe it. But knowing that the friendship between you and Raihan had been destroyed in one night… It felt like a cold cavity.

The scarf helped.

           It helped more than that delivery man knew.

It’s lunchtime when you first check your phone. You were anxious, terrified of seeing a message from Raihan, but there was nothing. You stared at the screen in disbelief for a few short moments.

“You expecting a call?” Sonia suddenly asks, leaning over your shoulder and peaking at your phone screen.

“S-Sonia!” You yelp, clutching your phone to your phone and looking up at the ginger.

“What? It was just a simple question, y’know~ if you need to go make a call to a certain someone I totally get it!” She fixes your scarf with a small smile before offering a rather sympathetic smile. “But I hope you’re okay… You seem really…” She trails off and drags a chair over to sit beside you, sighing. “You seem out of it. Like, normally I wouldn’t press this kind of thing, because I know it makes you nervous, but it’s affecting your work and…”

“I’m fine.” You manage out, interrupting her second trailing sentence. She searches your eyes, a gentle hand now resting on your knee. Then she nods.

“Alrighty then!” Sonia gives you a firm rub to the shoulder before leaving some documents.

When she leaves, you sigh, leaning back into your chair. There’s a faint wince from the dull ache in your hips, head hanging over the back of the chair.

This was going to suck.

                       Bad.

The day is long and drawn out and by the end of it you’re certain you’re going to pass out. You can’t quite pinpoint when you actually fell asleep last night, but it must’ve been late considering the daze that seems to be clouding your head. Reaching for a Poke-ball from your bag, you falter for a moment. You notice one rotom phone in amongst your keys, but then you find a second… and it’s Raihan’s.

“C’mon!” Raihan laughs into your ear. Your cheeks are burning by this stage. Hell, with the way his hands hold your hips and his lips caress the shell of your ear, you’re certain that the heat you’re exuding could cook any curry. “Let’s dance, babe! It’s one night~ C’mon! Put my phone in your bag and let’s dance~”

The memory hits you like a truck -- so hard that you’ve had to crouch. A poke ball rolls out of your opened bag and out pops a familiar little Leafeon. She hums softly, curiously, waddling over to nuzzle against your thigh.

“Lea? Leafeon?” She purrs, her two little paws resting on your knee as she leans up and nudges her nose against the backs of your hands. Your fingers part and you meet her caramel eyes, earning and excited squeak from the eeveelution. She presses her nose to your cheek, and you sigh shakily.

You have to pull it together.

And that’s exactly why you did the only thing that you knew you could do in this situation; you called Leon.

“Heya! How’s it going, mate?” Leon’s voice is somewhat strained as he speaks, words hurried.

“Uh, hey Lee. I wanted to--” You can hear muffled voices in the background as you talk. You frown. “Ask you a favour… Could I drop something off to you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Sure mate, sure! Uh--Hop, just--Sorry, Y/N, I’ve got a situation here, haha.”

“Oh… I could call back if you…”

“No! Wait, Y/N, wait!” It’s Raihan’s voice. You blink, swallowing thickly.

“I-I have to go. Can you tell Raihan that Sonia will have his phone? Thanks.”

You hang up.

Leafeon purrs sadly, her head pressing to the shaking of your palm. She licks it gently before nudging at your leg.

You had to take the phone to Sonia.

All you wanted to do was disappear.

And that’s what you did.

Without explanation, you shoved Raihan’s phone into Sonia’s hands and took off to the Wild Area.

“You’ll--You’ll regret this,” you whisper, breathless. “Raihan.. Ha…”

“I could never regret making love to you,” he countered quietly, larger hands holding your thighs, your legs over his shoulders as he kissed up to your throbbing warmth. “Never, Y/N.”

His mouth is hot against you, tongue lapping up the sopping wetness of your nether regions. The way he curls his tongue inside of you would have, on normal circumstances, remindws you that this isn’t his first rodeo, and, on normal circumstances, that would have you refusing any sort of affection let alone sex… but with the aid of a little alcohol, you didn’t care. You wanted to hold Raihan, to let him touch you, to use you, to love you… even if it was only for one night.

You wanted to love him, even if it was a drunken mistake on his behalf.

Pushing back the vines of your secret little area, you sigh shakily. Along the way you had released Bewear from her friend ball; she had let you rest on her back, taking you back to the little place most of your Pokemon knew you loved. You give her a warm squeeze before dropping back down to your feet.

It’s a clearing decorated with beautiful wild flowers, shrubs, lit by nothing by the moon and the little lights that litter the night sky. Your hands are shaky as you pitch your tent, Beware and Leafeon both try their best to help you, sensing that something is off. Once the tent is done, you smile your thanks, give them one final embrace, and return the pair back to their respective Poke-balls. You tuck both away into your satchel and sigh. Tonight, you decide to go to bed without dinner, and without checking your phone. And instead, you grab your dragon jacket -- the one matching to Raihan’s -- and curl into it.

You don’t recall how long the cries racked your body for, but somewhere along the way your silent sobs ceased, and exhaustion won.

You were gone for almost a week. On the first absence from work Sonia had called you, on the third day with no word it was Leon who called you, and on the seventh day…

Well, when you woke up, it wasn’t morning, nor were you alone. Considering your world was blurred from the lack of glasses, all you could see was the outline of a giant, black shadow moving outside your tent. Your eyes widened when you heard the twig snap. Battling was not your speciality. You see, you never wanted to be champion, that was always Raihan’s dream. You were happy to live a contented life amongst your Pokémon and work for Sonia as her assistant until Hop was old enough to train…

So, to put it simply, you were completely

and utterly

fucked

right now--

especially if that thing intended on fighting you.

You reach for your glasses first, grabbing your ladle second. Like hell you’d put your Pokémon in danger. You’re shaking profusely as you quietly raise to your feet, eyes burning, stinging, wet. As you approach the entrance of your tent, you hear a hushed profanity leave the beast outside. You pause instantly, brows knitting together.

“Fuckin’ sticks,” comes the growl.

That’s when you launch yourself out of the tent, aiming high with your ladle and throwing it at the offender.

“O-Oi! Y/N, Y/N! It’s me! It’s--” Raihan’s standing there, hands raised defensively, eyes flicking between you and the murder weapon. He blinks incredulously. “Is that-- …Is that a ladle?”

“Yes it’s a ladle. Mind your business. More importantly, why are you here at goodness knows what time, you moron?! You’re--that’s so inconsiderate of you! I seriously thought I was going to die, you stupid, big, dragon, moro--” Your words are cut off when two strong arms envelope you into the tightest, warmest hug you have ever received.

“I know.. I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your arms lay limp by your sides, eyes staring up at the full moon. Ah. It’s beginning to blur for you now.

“Stop it,” you whisper, voice feeble. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you doing this…”

“I have to apologise, Y/N.”

He clutches you tighter, his face buried in the warmth of your hair.

“No you don’t. If you apologise, then you will end up apologising for what happened--for being drunk. You’ll say it was a mistake and you never wan--”

Again, your words are cut off, but this time it’s by a warm pair of lips occupying your own. Your eyes are wide, tears glistening in the light of the moon.

Your hands come to his chest and you push him back.

“S-Stop that,” You wipe your mouth on the back of your hands, looking away. “Go away, Raihan. You’re-- You’re making things worse.”

Raihan grabs your wrists so gently… they’re almost completely different to the ones you felt the other night.

“Do you really want me to go away, Y/N…?” His voice is quieter than usual -- all his usual confidence seemingly extinguished. You feel the way his lips press tenderly against each of your fingers. It makes thinking hard.

“You’re…” By now you’re looking down, embarrassed, flustered… “You’re the one who made the rules… It was never me. I never wanted them but you’re too stupid to realise that I’ve been-” You cut yourself off from pouring out anymore unnecessary information. Your eyes are wet again. Snatching your hands away from the dragon gym leader, you turn your back to him and move away. “This is your fault and here I am, trying to fix your mess again…” You rub at the back of your neck, sighing shakily. You take your glasses off and rub at your eyes profusely, angrily, shoulders trembling.

“Y/N…” Raihan’s voice is so small as he moves to stand behind you. “It was shit what I did-”

“It was.”

“And I’m shit-”

“You are.” You sniff and there’s silence.

“But please don’t send me away, Y/N. I know I made those stupid rules. I was scared. I know that sounds stupid, but we were so young, and I was already so into you…” You can feel his fingertips gingerly reaching to touch you but pulling back just before he can complete the contact. “That night wasn’t a mistake at all. You’re not a mistake, Y/N. I’m pissed off that I took advantage of you while you were drunk… While we were both drunk… and for that—man… you’ll never get how sorry I am.” The crack in his voice makes you flinch.

Hesitantly, your fingers meet, yours curling around his, faces still downcast. You hear the breath of relief, followed by the forehead dropping onto your shoulder. His free arm wraps slowly, cautiously, around your waist, drawing you back into him. His face is wet in the crook of your neck and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying again.

Instead, you turn around in his arms and bury yourself into his chest, his arms caging you between them and the warmth of his body. Your hands move up the outlines of his tensing shoulder muscles, fingers curling into the back of his shirt.

“I thought the promises would stop me losing you,” he murmured. “But instead they just fucked things up even more, huh?” His hand goes to the back of your hair, fingers entangling in the back of your feathery strands of hair.

The embrace you share under the moon lasts forever. Your body slots perfectly against Raihan’s larger frame. You feel so exhausted, yet so content, so secure, you never knew this state was possible.

“Y/N,” Raihan whispers quietly, fingers threading through your hair. You look up and his hands move to cradle your flushed cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the dampened, burning skin. His eyes search yours, his brows knitted, silently asking and searching for your answer.

When your lashes flutter shut and you tilt your head up, he leans down slowly, taking his time to press your lips together; to relish in suppleness, in the way they fit together perfectly, his slightly thicker than yours, but as gentle as ever. The kiss is slow and patient, easing your anxious heart and near on leaving you breathless. You were never good at the whole kissing thing, never knowing where to put your hands, when to breathe—do you breathe while kissing?

Embarrassed, you pull away, turning your face in an attempt of hiding the way the moon highlights your burning cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Did I go too fast?” You shake your head, leaning into his palm.

“I… don’t know how to do that kinda stuff, y’know? The other night… You and I, well…”

Raihan’s expression was unreadable for a moment before he slowly took your hand in his, staring down into your eyes.

“I can teach you if you want,” he whispers softly, squeezing your hand. “I know I don’t deserve it… but I don’t want to be just the best friend, Y/N. If you don’t want me, I’ll respect that, and I’ll walk away right now… but if you’ll have me then I guess I’m asking…”

“S-Stop being so… Sh-Sheesh… You’re so not that cocky little brat of a gym leader I know…” You peek up at him over your glasses and offer a sheepish grin. His eyes blink wide, almost like an excited puppy, and he tackles you into a bone-crushing hug.

You’re about to protest when suddenly his lips are on yours, and just like the other night, you’re melting into the warmth of the Dragon Tamer. Skilled hands find your hips and slowly guide you back into the tent. There’s a small ting, a low groan, and a muffled laugh when you step into the shelter. Raihan breaks the kiss to rub his injured head, laughing along with you.

Taking your hands, Raihan leads you back to the cot, slowly reclining you back onto the softer surface. He hovers above you, leaning on his arm, one knee between your thigh whilst the other rests against you. He searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation or reluctance but finds none. It’s then that he leans down and recaptures your lips once more, observing the way your eyes flutter shut and your cheeks instantly warm. With his right hand, he caresses your thigh, squeezing it, and earning a quiet gasp from you.

Raihan takes the opportunity to slowly lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding over and around yours, eliciting wet, obscene noises that make your face burn even hotter. He figures you must be nervous with the way you cling to him, your arms laced around his shoulders tightly, lips shyly parted. Though it’s when he sucks on your tongue that you find yourself whining.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your swelling lips. When your eyes open, you noticed how his are glazed over with a look you’ve never seen before – his eyes half lidded and seemingly…lustful. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Can I take photos? Just for us, y’know?”

“H-Haa?! But--? It—Dammit, Raihan. If those photos leak—if even one soul sees—I will end yo—”

You’re cut off with another cheeky kiss, the younger boy laughing into your mouth. He pulls back and smiles at you once more before setting up his Rotom.

“Like hell I’d let anybody else see you like this, babe,” The Rotom flies into the air as Raihan shoots you an almost animalistic smirk. “You’re mine now, Princess. And only I’m gonna be usin’ those photos.”

Raihan finds himself kissing up your bare thighs after having slowly dragged your underwear off and away, desperate to have his head between your thighs again. You gasp when you feel his two fingers pry your lips apart, his tongue taking its time to roll over and around your clit. Your back arches up off the bed at the contact, thighs trembling either side of his head. Your hands scramble to find his hair, breath quickening as his tongue flicks and his lips suck at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ra—Rai.. Shit—Ha, Raihan..” His name seems to be the only thing (other than profanities) that you seem to know. You buck your hips desperately into the other’s mouth, tugging on his hair and earning another low groan from the man.

“Now, now,” he mumbles against your heat, looking up at you from between your thighs. His gaze is lazy, seductive. He’s smirking at you, tongue slowly sliding along your clit, barely touching the wetness. “Be a good girl.” He instructs firmly, pushing your hips down.

You writhe beneath his strong hold as his mouth continues to abuse your sensitive regions, completely unrelenting in the way he sucks at your clit, teeth occasionally nibbling at the bud.  It’s then that you feel a familiar pressure building within your abdomen, curling like a coil that’s about to snap at any given moment. You try to warn Raihan, you do. You tug at his hair, choking out incoherent sobs of his name, trying to pull him off… but of course Raihan doesn’t give in. In fact, he pries his forefinger between your sodden, velvety walls and presses upwards, stroking along the upper roof of your sex.

That’s the final straw. It’s all too much to think about: his tongue, his teeth, his finger—

Before too long you’re coming with a loud cry, back arching up off the bed as he continues to thrust his finger inside of you, tongue mercilessly lapping at your throbbing clit. Your body convulses and shakes atop the cot, fingers tugging harshly at Raihan’s now matted black hair. You continue to cry his name as he licks you out, even replacing his finger with his tongue, groaning as he licks you clean.

You feebly push at his head, whimpering and twitching in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“Too… Too much—sensitive… No more, Rai.” He looks up at you from between your thighs, expression rather adorable. You pant through a smile, allowing a small laugh to pass. “How can you look so cute after doing something so lewd…?”

“Lewd? I don’t think making love is lewd!” He inches up your body, kissing over old marks that barely present themselves. “I’d do anything you asked me, babe.” You smile as he kisses you once again, but soon frown.

“But you haven’t…”

“It’s okay. I’m not really prepared, anyway. I don’t have any condoms.”

You nod slowly. You trace your fingers over his naked chest before looking back up to meet the gaze of the Dragon Tamer.

“Can I touch you?”

He blinks a few moments, seeming as If he has short circuited, but quickly nods. “Y-Yeah, yeah. Babe, that would be—shit, that’d be really good… D’you want me to show you?” At your nod, he takes your hand. “Do you have any oil around here? It’ll make it easier.”

You ponder over the question for a moment before reaching over into your bag and fishing out a small container of rose oil.

“Alright, sick. I’m gonna pour some in your hand, yeah? It’ll make it easier for you.” You nod, watching as he pours said oil into the palm of your hand. He observes your expression as he slowly shimmies himself out of his boxer shorts, snickering when your eyes widen. He kisses your forehead for a few lingering moments before taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the base of his thick shaft. Raihan’s thick lashes fall shut once your soft hand touches his proud cock. He can’t stop the involuntary twitch of his hips.

You blink in disbelief, watching the way his face contorts as your hands slowly move along his pulsating cock. It’s quite hot, you note—the temperature of his… it makes you blush. Seeing him so pliant under your touch like this… it gives you a surge of courage – of boldness. You lean up and press soft kisses to the younger’s neck, following the twisting motion of his hand.

“Shit, Y/N,” he breathes, shakily. He thrusts into your hand when you near his tip. You notice the faint tremble of his hips. Your hand hesitantly moves to the other’s tip, squeezing the sensitive head, experimentally touching him. “F-Fucking—shit, Y/N. Keep that up and I’ll cum, babe.”

That’s the plan, dummy.

You snicker to yourself as his hand guides you up and down the entirety of his cock, twisting and squeezing in different positions, each stroke edging Raihan closer and closer to the edge.

“Y/N—Don’t stop. Fuck, please. ‘M gonna cum, baby. Fuck—just like that—” Raihan becomes increasingly vocal as your thumb swirls across the leaking slit of his dick, your free hand pumping the lubricated shaft of the other. “Y/N, fuck—coming!”

And with that final shout, creamy cum coils from the violently red slit of Raihan’s cock. He grits his teeth, body stiffening for a brief moment before he fucks your hand, head falling back as he rides the euphoria.

“You look cute like this,” Comes your sudden murmur, watching his hips buck into your hand before he slowly guides your hand to his own. He laces your fingers and smiles tiredly.

“You think?” he whispers, leaning down to nudge his nose against your temple. “Guess we’ll have to do it more often so you can see that cute expression of mine, huh~?”

Your face flushes ten times over at the comment, curling into his chest and hiding away (despite the uncomfortable stickiness now between you both). He chuckles loudly at your reaction, fingers tracing along your back as he kisses your head.

“So… this means we’re a couple now, yeah?” he asks after a few moments of silence. You’re slow in answering, but when you do, you look with a tired grin and nod. “Good. Because now I’m definitely never letting you go, babe.”

#raihan x reader #pokemon swsh #pkmn sword and shield #raihan #smut #enjoy #nor writes #my posts

[wastelandcrown]

one indescribable instant

Summary: Roman's companionship forces Logan to think about the idea of romance. He starts to enjoy the idea of romance more and more, but he can't stop thinking about whether or not love at first sight is real. Warnings: None (If you need me to add a warning, please tell me!) Notes: The fluffiest thing I've probably ever written. Title is referencing a song from the show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Also not beta-d, we die like Roman Pairings: Platonic Logince, Intrulogical, Background Royality Word Count: 1620

Roman often describes fairy tale romances to Logan in ways that don’t make sense. These types of love-at-first-sight romances seem entirely improbable to Logan, but he imagines it would feel fairly nice the way Roman describes it. 

‘It’s as if beautiful music soars behind you, filling you with such intense joy and passion that you can barely describe feelings soaring through your heart! And, of course, you have the person! You look upon them once and realize you’ll never need another person for the rest of your days!’

Logically, this makes no sense. Love at first sight, the way Roman describes it, doesn’t exist. You also need many people in your life. Is this partner a doctor of all medical sciences? A grocer? An accountant you may hire? It is impossible to fulfill everything one person may need. However, that doesn’t mean it sounds entirely terrible. 

He’s never been a hopeless romantic, never even much of a romantic. The only thing that changed that was meeting Roman. Despite their fighting and differences, they became closer than anything within a matter of months. They were introduced through Patton, Logan’s childhood friend and Roman’s boyfriend, and Patton often joked about how Logan would end up replacing him some day. They both hated this joke, mostly because it was wildly inaccurate. Roman was so head over heels in love with Patton that he was scandalized at the idea of loving anyone else, and Logan is not romantically attracted to Roman at all. Sure, they spend a lot of time together, but Logan has never even been to his apartment! The effect Roman has on Logan is purely platonic, and highly emotional. He has made Logan rethink and reanalyze his feelings on most things, and he doesn’t often change his opinion, but he was swayed so heavily on one subject. Just one. 

Love. Many a night, Roman has spent time curled up with him on his couch. Nothing playing on the TV, just sitting and pining. Fanciful ideas of romance and true love, wild journeys, ideas for romantic dates. A favourite of theirs is the prince and the gardener. Roman pictures himself as a prince, longing for Patton, the gardener for his palace. Logan imagines he works alongside Patton, befriending the prince, and eventually falling for one of his royal allies. He likes to add to the fantasies with little facts about their chosen era or scenario, which Roman always gasps at with the fervour that comes along with a new idea. Somehow they always make their way back to a royal ball. 

‘And I’m there, everyone wants to dance with me, but I’m looking for my two special guests, and when I find you, Logan, I’ll introduce you to some royals because you want to talk about nerd things.’

‘I think I’d have my eye on one already, maybe a Count, or a Duke,���

‘Oh my god no, not a duke! My brother always pictures himself as a duke when we do this!’

This is the first time Logan has heard of him having a brother, but it’s not much of a surprise. 

He doesn’t ask, but Roman tells anyway. His name is Remus, and because of their wildly different personalities, they made a mutual agreement not to talk about each other as brothers. Logan has heard some of his stories, however, because he’s been calling Remus his “roommate” and telling some quite wild stories about their adventures. He doesn’t really believe most of them, except for the time Remus filled their apartment with street cats. Patton, who has been over at his apartment and is allergic to cats, regaled the terrible story about wanting to pet the cats but being unable due to aforementioned allergies. Despite the cats, Patton seems to like Remus well enough. 

‘So Roman told you! That’s great! What do I think about him? Well, he’s certainly different! But-I mean-It’s not bad different! Well...He’s-I think you have to meet him to really understand what I mean!’

Logan spends a week confused, and not wanting to push Roman’s buttons. Then he decides he has to push the buttons because he can’t bear not knowing. 

Luckily, Roman calls him.

“Logan! You won’t believe my day today!” Roman starts with a comfortingly familiar dramatism.

He chuckles softly, smiling to himself, “I’m sure I will believe it, however perhaps you would prefer to tell me in person.”

“You read my mind! I’ll be right over!” He can nearly see the bouncy and excited look Roman has on, he knows him too well. 

“Actually, I was wondering if I could come to your apartment?”

Roman pauses for a moment, “Sure, I’ll have to force Remus to get presentable though.”

Logan hears a loud “Hey!” then Roman signs off. He can be at Roman’s in twenty minutes on an average day. Today he stops at the bakery they like to get some pastries, just in case Roman needs a little longer to get everything presentable. 

When Roman swings open the door he immediately takes Logan in for a big hug. 

“We’re making milestones today! You’re coming to my house and meeting my brother, what a huge achievement!” He seems genuinely excited, so Logan only lovingly rolls his eyes.

With one large swoop of his arms, Roman has taken the box of pastries and put his other arm around his friend’s shoulders. He gives him a squeeze and pulls him into the house. It’s a little messy, but it has its charms. The living room has a lot of strange, and occasionally graphic, decor. The couches are brown and worn in, they look soft. Their kitchen and dining room are fairly bare, kept clean for cooking and eating. Roman shows him his room, which is as wildly colourful and eccentric as he imagined it would be. They’re in the hallway when the second bedroom door opens and Remus steps out.

“Presentable enough for you, your highness? Remus snarks at his brother.

Logan feels something in his chest move and then swing violently in a direction he never expected. Remus’ skin is pale, near white, stark and clean against the eggshell walls. His hair is messy and wet, evident that he just showered. His eyes are sharp and a little wild, a dark brown colour that Logan near instantly commits to memory. There are natural bags and discolouration all the way around his eyes, his teeth are strangely sharp when he grins at Roman, he’s got a quite terrible mustache that makes him look a little like a cartoonish villain. He’s in a tank top with the sides near cut out, black jeans, and socks with phallic objects. Just like Roman, he’s nearly a foot taller than him. Logan forgets how to breathe.

“Could do without the penis socks, but yes! This is who I needed you presentable for!”

Remus looks at him then, curiously. His gaze moves up and down slowly, a shiver runs down Logan’s spine. 

“This is Logan?” Remus slyly smirks, “RoRo you didn’t tell me he was hot!”

The music Roman told him about swells in his mind. His entire body feels light and airy. It’s not exactly joy and passion but Logan is suddenly overcome with the urge to devote his life to this beautiful near-stranger. He can feel his cheeks go pink when Remus says he’s hot, and in all honesty he does not care. Embarrassment is the least of what he’s thinking about. 

“Remus! He is my best friend and our guest! You cannot say that!” Roman looks over at Logan, opens his lips to apologize, then notices his nervous posture and blush. 

Logan decides to speak, but makes the mistake of looking at Remus first, his words come out as mush, “I-No-No it’s-uh-It's quite alright. I didn’t mind.”

Roman blinks at Logan wildly. He’d never seen Logan be such a mess when speaking. He’s usually measured and clean! It dawns on him in an instant what’s going through Logan’s mind.

“Well! Nice to see you Remus!” Roman starts pushing Logan harshly towards his room, “Logan brought pastries! Eat up! Bye!” 

When Roman slams the door he hears Remus call out, “I’m gonna order pizza for us in like thirty fucking minutes so you better be done girls talk by then or I’m getting anchovies and olives!”

Logan is being stared at like his head has cracked wide open, but his mind is in the figurative clouds. 

“I know what you mean now.” Logan mutters, putting a hand over his cheek gently and pressing his back against the door to sigh gently.

“Logan what are you talking about!?” Roman whisper-shouts, but part of him already knows.

“The music. The feelings.” Logan continues, not even speaking to Roman, “Not needing another person for as long as you live.”

The joy floods him in an instant, “I felt it.”

Roman pulls him over to sit on his bed. Logan flops backwards into the red sheets and throws his arms over his face. He tries to conceal the smile on his lips, but he can’t. He can’t believe he ever doubted Roman on this. This. This magnificent feeling. Love at first sight hit him like a truck in one indescribable instant. 

“You look happy,” Roman says softly, Logan nods slowly.

He mutters against his sleeve, “I apologize for doubting you.”

“I mean realistically, it’s not exactly love. More like a huge crush.” Roman flops down next to him. 

And while yes, he knows that it’s probably just infatuation, he loves how he’s feeling. He doesn’t typically feel things this abrupt, the strong. He finds the whole situation a bit funny, but if the night goes well he might end up with a date. 

#intrulogical #sanders sides #sanders side fic #ts logan #ts roman #ts remus #ts patton #background royality #this is silly fluff for no reason #please enjoy #im open for for criticism

[starwarsdestroyedme]

Toe-socks

So, this turned out longer than expected. Also, thanks for the notice on the other post about the taglists! 

One-shot

AO3   

Relationships: Intrulogical, background prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, Platonic Logince, Platonic Royalty 

Summary: Remus always loves to make an entrance. Logan only wanted to finish his presentation. Everybody is confused.

“Precisely because I can tell that Patton and Virgil are more reactive to Remus’ outbursts I suggested for them to stay with you. You agreed to this. Half an hour ago this wasn’t an issue”. “Half an hour ago I didn’t know you were banging my brother!”

Word count: 4837

Warnings: Roman may seem unsympathetic at the start, but I promise, it all gets sorted out and justified in the end, so, please, bear with me. Remus being Remus. Arguing. Logan and Roman say somewhat nasty stuff to eachother (they talk it out though), and none more I can think of. 

Opposite Warnings: (self-explanatory name. I just wanted to also highlight nice things!) Patton being a proud dad, protective Virgil, Roman addressing his feelings and talking about them, Remus caring about Logan, CARELESS WHISPER PLAYS NEED I SAY MORE?

Edit: Now there’s a related story! Head over heels 

Toe-socks

Logan passed to the next slide of his power-point. Today he was doing a presentation for his proposal about Thomas’ new schedules. 

It had been a while since they all agreed to make a collective effort to meet once a month to correct various problems. That month specifically, the meeting was to be at Logan’s room - they too had established to rotate locations between the main room, Logan’s and the Imagination, depending on the topic, Patton’s and Virgil’s rooms were excluded for everyone’s safety - because the order of the day were the schedules. 

“So, if we set bedtime to nine we’ll be able to regulate properly sleep schedules, which would noticeably improve overall daily performance”. 

Virgil raised his hand. 

“Yes, Virgil?”

“If the aim is for Thomas to get 8 hours of sleep why don’t we move bedtime to 10?”

“Ah, that’s because I’m taking into account the time he may take to fall asleep”. 

“That won’t grant that he falls asleep at 10, specially if a certain someone appears…” 

“It will be okay, I have a contingency plan for that situation”. 

Logan went to the next slide, revealing his action plan. 

“So, as Virgil kindly pointed out: if the Duke showed up, Patton and him should go to Roman’s side of the Imagination”. 

“Are you okay with that?” Virgil asked, looking at Roman. 

Roman nodded with a smile while he gently pressed on Virgil’s knee. 

“I asked Roman prior to the meeting and--” 

Roman stood up and stroke a pose. 

“Fear not Dear Evaneshansen and Papá*, my castle and I are at your service! I’ll keep you safe!”

“That” Logan gestured at Roman and took a deep breath. 

Logan adjusted his glasses and skipped to the following slide, eager to retake control of his presentation. They still had a few points to discuss, and it wasn’t as if Logan didn’t have more things programmed for today, so he couldn’t afford wasting time. 

“We still have more to go through, so if you could please pay attention I should be able to get it done in--” 

Then, the lights went out. 

“Great, now what”. 

“Hey, Lo! Who turned the lights out?” Patton joked, just as Virgil turned on a small torch. 

“That, was a really dark reference, Patton” Logan answered.

“As dark as this room?”

“Oh, for the love of…”

Suddenly, Careless Whisper’s instrumental roared across the room. 

“What is going on?!” Roman shouted. 

Logan closed his eyes, his mouth contracted into an exasperated line. He sighed tired and turned to the left. A door, frame included and all, appeared next to the table.  It opened at the purest Doraemon style, making way for a slithering cloud of smoke inside which green and white lights scattered. 

A pair of toe-socks up to the knee, decorated with horizontal rainbow stripes, slid on the wooden floor doing the moonwalker. Inside of said socks was Remus, letting his hair down singing the first lines of Careless Whisper. 

“I feel so unsure, as I take your hand, and lead you to the --” Remus turned around with impetus, pointing with his right arm extended, placing the other behind his head. 

Remus’ expression was a picture the entire time, first biting on his lower lip suggestively, frowning in an expressive manner; then, eyes wide open, a hint of annoyance in them, and his jaw  dropping into a grimace of indignation. 

Logan corresponded him arching his eyebrows and making an effort to turn his lips into a two point thick line. Or, said differently, an angered mother face.

Remus blinked several times. He took a glance at the rest. Virgil had his arm placed in front of his brother, who was holding back more due to the authority of his boyfriend’s gesture rather than the force Virgil could be exerting against his abdomen. Patton had turned into the colour of a low-fat yoghurt. The father looked at him up and down positively horrified. 

Grand entrance, check. It didn’t go as expected, but, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not unless the horse asked for it. 

He went back to focusing on Logan. 

“Was it today?!”

“Indeed”.

“Well, fuck me!” he cursed. 

Logan adjusted his tie with annoyance and turned to his presentation. He looked at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Let me finish this first”. 

The monosyllabic equivalent of a horse laugh escaped out of Remus. 

“That wasn’t what I meant, but, works for me!” he smiled from ear to ear. 

Right after that, he shrugged and set course back to the door doing the moonwalker. 

“--guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it’s easy to pretend, I know you’re not a fool…” he picked the song back as he disappeared, taking the door with him. 

The room was left in sepulchral silence. Virgil looked at the floor with a face that said something along the lines of ‘I’m rethinking my entire life’, Roman’s eyes wouldn’t stop going back and forth from Logan to where the door had vanished. Patton had sat down on the couch and looked at Logan as to encourage him to speak. 

“Sorry about that, now, where were we?”

Virgil glanced up and he made a contained version of one of Roman’s wild gesticulations. 

“What the hell was that?!”

“Remus, of course, you saw him too” Logan played the matter down, wanting to go back to the presentation. 

“I saw more than I wish I had seen” Roman said. 

“He does not like wearing clothes” Patton added, as to agree with Roman. 

“He was wearing socks, so, technically, he was dressed. I swear he only does it to be annoying”. 

“I mean, why did he do that?” Virgil asked with a mixture of overwhelm, annoyance and confusion. 

“That depends on what you’re asking about. If you’re referring to the… uh… nudity issue, then it’s because I told him I wouldn’t talk to him if he wasn’t dressed”.

Virgil furrowed his brows. Considering Remus’ personality, he found it very odd that he had even bothered to get ‘dressed’... or whatever that was. He knew first hand that if the Duke didn’t feel like doing something, persuading him otherwise turned out to be tricky, not to say almost impossible. 

“On the other hand, if you mean the whole situation, well, I believe he was attempting to have intercourse with me” said Logan, trying to be conciliatory and failing miserably. 

“Uh… okay, what?” Virgil muttered to himself.

“Is there something you need to tell us, kiddo?” Patton inquired.

Of course, Logan took this as a prompt for him to continue with the presentation. 

“Yes. Thank you, Patton. As I was saying before we got interrupted…”

“Oh my god! Why is my brother trying to get into your pants, nerd?!” 

Logan frowned and looked at Virgil for help. 

“Get into someone’s pants, as in trying to have sex with them”. 

“I think the answer will upset you, but, if you must know, we had it scheduled for later today. Remus has poor impulse control, so he came here earlier. He, also, completely forgot that the reason why, was because I had a meeting with all of you”. 

Patton looked at Logan with muted worry. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say upsetting… more like... shocking?” 

“Deeply disturbing” corrected Roman. 

"We’re all… a bit shaken up, but that’s no reason to say things so negatively charged--” 

“What?! How am I supposed to react? Nerd over there is… ew… my evil twin brother, who, by the way, tried to kill him several times and we’re all going to pretend that it’s fine?!” 

After Roman ended acting all fussy, he just stood there, taking a glance at the rest, expectant. Patton looked back at him. His lips pressed together and turned to the right, it was hard to tell if with disapproval, pity or empathy. He leaned to say all three. Then there was Virgil, who was still standing with a thoughtful semblance, and Logan, with his face of indignation half-dissolved in indifference, clearly denoted by the eyebrow he just raised. 

“Taking into account that Remus’ direct actions don’t affect me, and he knows that, I’d hardly consider it a murder attempt, therefore, I don’t see your argument neither pertinent nor relevant”. 

“We understand what you mean, Logan, but it isn’t particularly nice to see how you collapse on the floor with a shot to the head. Even if we kinda know nothing will happen to you it can still… frighten us up a little”. 

“More like almost scaring Patton to death, and V being on the verge of an anxiety attack”. 

Virgil turned his head towards Roman and gave him a look of ‘dude, no. Now’s not a good time and we agreed not to talk about it, I can’t believe you just brought it up only to tell Logan off on dating your brother’. Or, what Roman interpreted as: ‘you know it affected be a lot and we agreed not to talk about it, least when I’m impacted with all this new info’. 

“I’m sorry, Virge. But it’s true, the fact is that both Virgil and Patton need to come to my side of the Imagination because Remus can’t manage to be nice to anyone for a even two seconds”. 

“I don’t think you’re objective enough to be able to judge Remus’ capabilities properly. That, to begin with,---” 

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed. 

“Did I say anything incorrect? Roman cannot be objective with his brother because he deeply despises him”. 

“Dude, sensitive topic” said Virgil whilst leaning his head. 

“Roman may not like the Duke, but that doesn’t make his opinion any less valid”  Patton began to say, looking at the logical side, and then moving onto Roman “and it’s not alright to say things tactless, Roman”. 

“I say things tactless?! Have you heard any of what the nerd said?! I’m not the one who’s ignoring that you can barely be in the same room as my brother!”. 

“Precisely because I can tell that Patton and Virgil are more reactive to Remus’ outbursts I suggested for them to stay with you. You agreed to this. Half an hour ago this wasn’t an issue”.

“Half an hour ago I didn’t know you were banging my brother!”

“That changes nothing, because hadn’t you found out, my arrangement with Remus would have remained the same, so the problem and the situation would not change, thus, this has nothing to do with Patton or Virgil. You’re simply determined on demonising Remus because of your disagreements”.

“Disagreements, that’s a light way to put it. Remus is bad for Thomas!”

“And that may be so at the moment, but it's still unrelated as to my relationship with him”.

“How do you expect me to look you in the eye knowing there’s something going on between you?”

“This conversation is useless and ridiculous”. 

Logan went to the table and took a book from it, he then sat down and started to read its contents trying to keep exasperation at bay.

“Roman, we’re not here to judge Logan. I understand it’s hard to process, but it isn’t okay to---” 

“No! You all think the same and the only one who’s being upfront about it is me”.

“I don’t think that… well, not exactly, but although I’m not the Duke’s biggest fan, it’s not okay for us not to support Logan’s relationship”. 

“Oh, lord, they’re just having sex! I don’t see how it’s worth it for us to have a bad time just because Remus feels like having a fling with Logan”. 

The deafening sound of a chair moving backwards cut the conversation. Logan, gripping his book with anger, had stood up. 

“That’s it. Enough nonsense for today! Seeing that I can’t finish my presentation, I’m leaving”. 

“Oh, yeah, run away from the conversation” Roman replied, just as mad. 

Logan held back his desire to throw the book at the Prince’s face. 

“Firstly, I’m not running away from anything. What happens is that the only explanation I owe you is that from my presentation, which was why we met today. You’ve spent forty-three minutes without letting me speak, interrupting me and deviating from the topic. Today, I only planned to talk about the new schedules. My relationship, or, as you so eloquently decided to put it, ‘fling’ with Remus is none of your business, nor open to debate. It is something private and you have no sort of authority to make value judgments about it. Secondly, I have tasks to do and very strict schedules that you are messing with. On another note, your sensitivity to the topics Remus brings up and his ability to be nice to others aren’t correlative. It merely makes him incompatible with you. You can’t universalize that. Lastly, your opinion is biased and you can’t assess the situation accurately without all of the data; which I have no obligation nor want to provide you with. I’ll send you a briefing of my presentation and will see you tomorrow. Goodbye”. 

Logan sank back right after he was done taking. 

“Logan, wa--!” Virgil tried to call for him in vain. “Oh, shhhhoot. Roman! Where the hell did that come from?” 

“Are you going to take his side too?” answered Roman sounding genuinely betrayed.  

“Yeah, he may have been a jerk, but you went waaaay further than that”. 

“Well, you didn’t say any of that before Logan left”. 

“No, because I was too busy trying to process everything everyone was saying, or rather, shouting” said Virgil, his nerves on edge.  

“Are you fine, kiddo?”

“Yeah. I’m just having a hard time at dealing with it, it’s a lot to take in. Everything has escalated way too quickly”. 

“That’s an understatement”. 

“Ro… leave it”. 

“So you both think it’s okay for him to elope with the Duke”. 

“I don’t think that it’s right nor wrong, I simply make nothing of it because is none of my goddamned business”. 

“This affects the three of us” 

“No, no it doesn’t” said Virgil with frustration. “We’re not the ones dating Remus”. 

“Look, Roman, I know you say this because you’re worried about your pop and your Virge, but that’s no reason not to support Logan. What we need is to work out together so we can find a solution” added Patton.

“Yeah? Well, how are we going to do that if Logan just vanished?” 

“Maybe he wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t hurt his feelings” Virgil shook his hands as if Roman’s head was in between them, and by doing so he could get the idea through that thick skull of his. 

“I can’t possibly hurt LOGIC’S feelings, and I’m not the one saying it, it’s him who keeps on bragging about how he doesn’t have them”. 

“Hmm… but we all know that’s not true”. 

“Gosh, Princey, seriously you think Logan would get so mad if he didn’t care about Remus?” 

“Logan gets angry whenever we don’t tell him he’s right, which is what all of that was about”. 

“But it wasn’t, heck, imagine how you’d feel if someone said all that’s between you and me is just sex” 

“But we don’t have… it’s not the same thing!”

“You don’t know that”. 

“Yeah, if Logan’s reaction is anything to go by, I’d say it’s more than just that” said Patton with a face that had written sympathy all over it.

“Logan’s reactions can literally mean anything because he’s the least expressive out of all of us”. 

“Okay, you don’t want to trust Logan’s reaction? Fine! Then let’s go by the fact that Remus left the room because Logan told him so, wears those ridiculous socks because of him and ACTUALLY has conversations with Logan about his schedules. You and I both know there’s no way your brother would do that if he didn’t give a damn about what Logan thought about him. Heck! Not even freaking DECEIT could get him to do what he wanted, he barely kept him under control. Only I used to manage to do it, and not without using a toxic amount of fear and anxiety first”.  

Roman just stood there, looking at his boyfriend, deeply worried. 

It was one thing for Virgil to defend Logan, but going to the extreme of bringing up his time as a Dark Side, now that was a whole different story. A wave of guilt run him up and down. He knew how triggering Virgil found it to even mention it.

"Maybe we'll all just have to learn to accept the fact that the Duke may care about Logan in his own way" said Patton looking at nowhere "and apologize to our dear old teach" he fixed his eyes on Roman. 

"I… perhaps you're right. I simply… when I look at Remus I see everything I don’t want to become and it’s hard for me to digest that Logan and him are together, because Logan’s always shooting down my ideas. I know he’s already apologised for it, we’re trying to get better… but he still antagonises me and, although it can help me improve, the rest of the time it makes me feel as… as if I wasn’t good enough. I mean, yeah, there’s pressure everywhere,” hearing this coming from Roman, both Patton and Virgil walked up to him to stay beside him “but with Logan I notice it more. Him dating Remus makes me think that perhaps he’s better than me, that maybe I’m the side of creativity that Thomas shouldn’t listen to”.  

“I didn’t know you thought that”. 

“Oh, Roman, is that how you really feel? Why didn’t you tell us?” said Patton placing a hand on the Prince’s arm. 

“Hmmm… I know I should have talked about it, but you already have your own issues and it didn’t feel important enough. Besides, it’s not easy to admit that Prince Charming” he gestured at himself moving his hand up and down, smiling bitterly “is afraid of not being able to make Thomas’ life into a fairytale”. 

Virgil threw himself at Roman’s arms and held him tight after hearing all that. 

“I know it’s hard… I know very well… but you can always come and talk to me, or to Patton… or Logan”. 

“That’s right Ro, we’ll always…” Patton moved fast and gave him a hug from behind “have your back!”

Roman loosely held onto one of Patton’s arms, that circled his shoulders, and caressed Virgil’s head, a smile of contemptment beginning to appear on his face. How could he be so lucky to have them? 

“Thanks guys… guess I should go apologize to Logan, I just have to find out where he is”. 

It didn’t take long for that question to be answered. Remus materialised himself in the room without warning, like the living pop-up he was. It was possible perceive in his expression, characterised by that mix of smugness and diva, a glimpse of superlative anger. With that in mind, Roman disentangled himself from Patton and Virgil, placing the last one behind him too. 

"I am going to end all of you, assholes" said Remus, with a tone more serious than anyone watching were used to.

Roman extended his left arm and conjured his katana, unsheathed already, with an agile wrist move. 

"Starting with you bro" Remus aimed at him with his morningstar and positioned himself, as if all of that were just a baseball match.

Roman braced himself for disaster and the cleaning that would follow after. Scrubbing his brains off the wall wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant. Virgil stepped forward, or rather to Roman’s side. 

“Try that and I’ll make you regret it” Virgil’s distorted voice flooded the room as if it were coming from the walls. 

He responded by flinching the tiniest bit. Regardless, his resolve was clear: he wouldn’t back off. 

“Oh, Virgil! This display? Just for me? But you haven’t closed the door! We may be seen! YOU may be seen. Are you willing to show your true colours in front of your new buddies?”

“They are not my buddies, they’re my family and if necessary I’ll get you off the way”. 

“You should have thought about that before messing with my nerd” Virgil’s eyes opened wide with realisation. What about Logan? He couldn’t harm Remus. But Remus would definitely do it, judging by the lightning-fast morningstar moving towards Roman’s face.  “Let’s put your theory to the test!”

Virgil pushed Roman to the floor, behind him, ready to take the full impact of the morningstar. He closed his eyes and waited. 

"Remus, that's quite enough" said Logan. 

Logic stood in between Virgil and Remus, effortlessly holding the shaft of the morningstar. Remus stared at Logan’s rest in bitch face dumbfounded. 

The Prince’s body was spreaded on the floor, he leaned on his forearm, with a spooked expression directed right at the back of Virgil’s head. He only came out of the trance to find Patton. Morality gestured at him, trying to help him get up. 

"What? Bitch, are you serious? He asked for it!" Remus pointed at his brother, releasing his grip on the weapon. 

"I don't care. No matter how impermanent it might be, I'd rather you didn't kill, maim, harm not harass him". 

"He deserves to…" 

"Remus, I understand where this comes from” he began to say, putting the morningstar down “and I'm aware of  how hard it is for you to exert control over your impulses. But this isn't helping me". 

"But! But he's an asshole! He deserves to have his testicles bitten off by a hyena".

"Remus," Logan conjured a notebook with a pen clipped to the cover "I need you to write it down as we practiced. Let me handle this myself" 

"But…" 

Logan took a long, exhausted, breath.

"Please". 

Remus’s body language changed completely, fully giving up. Loose. He took the notebook and sank back. 

Logan turned around, giving the rest a chance to finally take a look at him. 

Logan wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

His tie was undone, and his hair look the slightest bit disheveled. Reddish spider webs were imprinted in his puffy eyes, matching his blushed nose. 

“Wow, Logan, you look like shit” Virgil was the first to voice everyone’s worry, as per usual. 

“Oh, my apologies”  he conjured his glasses and put them on. Then proceeded to get his tie knot done. 

Patton stepped forward to hug him, unable to hold back. 

“Logan… dear mother of waffles!” The dad cupped his face. “Have you been c-- are you okay?” he bit his tongue on the last second, reminded of Logan’s reticence to talk about feelings. 

“I… I have been preoccupied”. 

“Logan…” 

“Roman, I do not wish to engage in conversation with you. I got Remus to leave, okay? I’m not in the mindset for debate” said Logan, ready to sink back again. 

“Wait!” 

“What do you want?” 

Patton and Virgil made a non-verbal pact to leave them some space and moved away, limiting themselves to watch the situation unfold, ready to intervene if necessary. Patton gave Roman a conciliatory smile. 

“I’m sorry! I was too rash, and it wasn’t my place to judge your relationship with Remus. I guess I got angry when I found out that you’re dating him, because of how much you criticize me, it makes me feel that he’s better than me, and that maybe you’ll just want him to do my job instead…” 

“Roman, there’s no way Remus could perform your job. He isn’t constant and gets more distracted than you. Even though his ideas are transgressive, they’re barely practical and don’t fit Thomas’ audience. You, on the other hand,” Logan joined the tips of his fingers and gestured at Roman “take production more into account and strive to create content that satisfies the audience”.

“But what good is that if I don’t challenge them?” 

“Good content doesn’t have to be at odds with pleasing the viewership. If your aim is to entertain, or, as Patton would put it,” he briefly glanced at him “make people happy, how can achieving that be bad? If what you create does what it was meant for then it is a good content”. 

“Well, that may be right, but Remus can handle more mature content better than me”.  

Logan frowned and rethought his strategy.  

“Would you consider Steven Universe bad content?” 

“What?! No! Also, Steven Universe treats mature topics”.  

“Indeed, but addressing mature topics isn’t a synonym for mature content. Roman, your ideas are perfectly capable of accomodating mature topics. You don’t need to make mature content to be a good creator”. 

“But Remus is right, what will Thomas’ legacy be if we just keep doing the same things over and over?” 

“Falsehood. We’re not doing the same things over and over, and, even if that were the case, that doesn’t mean we can’t change the content, if Thomas eventually decides to do so”. 

“But what if I’m not good enough for whatever he chooses to do next? What if he replaces me for Remus?” 

Logan smirked after hearing this and went on. 

“Ah, I see what the problem is. Roman, would you refrain altogether from acting if you failed at an audition?” 

“No” Roman answered with a hint of indignation. 

“Good. Then we can extrapolate that to what you said.” Logan made a pause and considered his next words. “There is always a chance for failure, but failing doesn’t restrict our chances for future success. If we consider your ideas from the angle of whether or not they achieve their purpose, then I’d be inclined to say they’re good. Thus, making you a good creator”.

Logan paused yet again, leaving Roman room to speak. Interestingly enough, the Prince remained quiet, letting Logic’s words sink in.  

“Of course, one could argue that what makes a content good or bad is inherently subjective, but entertaining that thought isn’t useful as a means of judging the quality of what you produce” he added, anticipating what Roman might have been pondering on. “Moreso, it is counterproductive because it only leads us to overthinking. Your desire to grow should not be a discouragement, but a source of motivation”.  

“What about Remus?” 

“Well… while I do believe that Remus should be allowed to be part of the conversation, he can’t act as a substitute for your contributions. Just as Remus can come up with things you can’t, that also applies the other way around”. 

“Then you don’t like Remus better?”

“The nature of our relationship is completely different to the one I have with any of you, so I could not effectively compare them, thus value one above the other”. 

Roman’s arms fell to his sides, he stared at the teacher, unsure as to what to say next. 

“Well, thanks Logan, that was... really nice… I’m very sorry for before”. 

“No problem, I can now understand why you reacted the way you did. I suppose an apology is due. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to correctly assess the way you were feeling and that I may have been somewhat insensitive”. 

“We’re both at fault, I guess”. 

“Correct. You were unfair and I was” Logan searched through his vocab cards until he found one and flipped it. It was written in all caps with black chinese ink, using thick angular strokes “an r/iamverysmart”. 

“What?” Virgil began to laugh. 

Patton went to Roman’s side and squeezed a bit on his arm. 

“I’m very proud of you, Ro” he said in a low voice. 

“Remus wanted to contribute to my efforts of understanding modern slang and gifted me with new vocab cards I’ve added to my research. Did I use that one properly?” 

“Naaah… not really” Virgil replied and began to give him some examples so he could frame the concept properly. 

“I’m glad I talked about it”. 

“Me too. I know how hard it is for you, Roman, and I’m so, so proud”. 

“Thanks, Dad” the Prince smiled. He went back to looking at his emo nightmare and Logan. 

“Leaving aside the most gruesome traits of his writing, I’m now proofreading a mystery novel he’s begun, and it’s very engaging” the tiniest of smiles appeared on Logan’s face.

“Isn’t that your favourite genre?” 

“In fiction, yes. So, understandably, I was pleased to assist him. He gave me the chance to contribute with plenty of Agatha Christie references”. 

“Well, it might turn out you and Remus may make a good couple” said Roman, too distracted by how surprised he found what Logan had said to really think about the wording he had used. 

Virgil looked at him in confusion, while Logan waited for him to elaborate. 

Roman opened his eyes wide, mentally rewinding. Oh. 

“Not that I am saying that’s what you are… I know you don’t need my approval, but no matter what’s in between you and Remus, I’m cool with it” he placed a hand behind his head and stood awkwardly. 

“That’s… quite alright. I appreciate that. And, regarding your previous statement, yes, I believe we do”. 

*so I’ve seen Roman call Patton padre a lot, but dad in Spanish translates into papá rather than padre. You see padre=father, papá=dad and papi=daddy. So I chose to go with papá. 

Taglist: 

@coffeemeryspace , @theantisocialghost , @musical--llama , @ambersky0319 , @tacohippy56900 , @1-800-im-not-ok , @dabookwormcat , @starkerparkerx , @littlestliu 

@creativity-killed-thekitten I tagged you seeing that in ‘Rain on me’ you told me to, but if you wish to be removed from the taglist please do tell!

#intrulogical #intrulogical fanfiction #intrulogical fanfic #intrulogical one shot #lomus #prinxiety #background prinxiety #sanders sides #lapm #platonic lamp #platonic logince #thatsthat24 #careless whisper #remus sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #roman x virgil #virgil sanders #patton sanders

[bi-cookie]

Are you still open for requests? Can I ask one fluff of Eiko Matsunaga x mc? 7- “I’m melting, I can’t take it you are too cute.” Perhaps Eiko interacting with Zoe?

“ Ferris Wheel”

⇾ 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Selena Day x Eiko Matsunaga

⇾ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘆: a trip to the town’s fair leads to a love confession.

⇾ 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.4k

⇾ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): fluff / alma being a nugget / typos?

⇾ 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱: 7# – fluff // dialogue prompt list

⇾ 𝗔/𝗡: I truly apologize of how long this has taken. This has been in my inbox since last December and I didn’t wanna mess up Eiko’s character so I took my time w this, doing my research and all that. I hope I didn’t mess this up and I apologize in advance cuz it’s me and I probably effed something up. I changed how the prompt is used i hope you don’t mind, it just fits the course of the story. Once again I’m sorry and enjoy.

It was a scorching hot summer day; perfect for a day at the fair. The sky was dotted with a few candy-floss clouds. The entrance could be seen in the distance and the long queues edged forward slowly. People were becoming increasingly excited and impatient as they took a few steps forward every so often. Faint music could be heard from beyond the tall gates with the occasional happy scream suddenly piercing the air. Closer to the entrance and the massive structures of the rides could be seen: a rollercoaster, a big Ferris wheel, a helter-skelter. Below, kids stood watching, eating their sweets and snacks. Ice creams wobbled perilously over the cones and dripped down their small fingers as they melted from the summer heat.

Eiko and Selena walked in hand in hand with Zoey trailing right behind them, as she admired the fair and occasionally screamed about the space-themed games, all the while both Eiko and her mother would smile and encourage her to try the rocket launch wheel.

After running around all day, from one booth to another stuffing their faces with every cheesy fair food there is and after Eiko won a stuffed bunny for the little space princess (that’s Eiko’s nickname for Zoey) at the ring toss, to which Zoey decided to name Saturn (it was her favorite plant because it has 62 moons). On their way to the rocket launch wheel, they bumped into Alma and Levi.

[ one small talk and bad mom puns later ]

Selena pulled Alma aside near a ring toss booth,

“Hey, I know this might not be the right time and this probably your day off, but can I ask you for a favor ?”

“Point me to the body and it’ll be gone before you know it.”

“What no that’s-“

“It doesn’t matter now it’s gone and yes I’ll be your alibi.” Alma winked at her friend.

Giggling the mother gave her friend an eye roll.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Unless there is a body and In that case of course. What can I do for you babes?”

“Never change Alma, never change. So anyways I wanted to take Eiko on a Ferris wheel ride you know trying to do this whole romantic thing and I’m kinda gonna drop the ‘L’ word and maybe.. kinda of.. sort of.. ask her to be my girlfriend?”

“The ‘L’ word? You mean Lesbian?”

Shoving playfully at her friend’s shoulder, Selena laughed.

“Alright say no more, Levi and I were headed to the hall of mirrors we’ll happily take Zoey with us. Go ahead do ya thing. I ship you guys so hard. GO!”

After saying goodbye to everyone and making sure that Zoey was okay with this, the two lovers went on their way hand in hand once again.

The line was a bit long at the Ferris wheel, but it was good a thing; because it gave Selena time to rehearse what to say to Eiko when they would be up high in the sky. This also spiked up her anxiety level to an impossible rate. I mean there she was about to ask this magnificent, beautiful, brilliant, breathtaking woman to be her girlfriend. after the hell she went through her whole life and recently with the custody battle you’d think she could face anything by now, she’d fear nothing. And for the most part, it was true. yes, she had no fears anymore well maybe one fear... what if Eiko doesn’t feel the same? What if she says no? What if she wants to keep it casual ... all these thoughts and what-ifs raced through her mind as she took a step forward into the line. Soon enough it was their turn.

The rest of the people in line got into the other empty carriages, and the operator started up the ride. Selena and Eiko’s carriage pulled up into the air.

As they sat side by side Selena was muttering the courage to take the first step and just come out and say it, but all she could think about was how close they were. Their thighs were almost touching, and that small, one-inch space seemed to be electrically charged. She has been with Eiko multiple times they have been dating for a while but they’ve never been this close and it drove her wild, her heart almost leaped out of her chest.

From this height, everything seemed so small–so far away–but Eiko was right there, so close to her. The rest of the fair, the rest of the town, the rest of the world, was just a backdrop behind her. All the people, the rides, the sounds, they all blended into the background, it’s like time froze at that moment.

The air was cold; a slight breeze blew through Selena’s jacket and lifted a tuft of Eiko’s hair up. And even though she was a hundred feet in the up in the air, with the whole town below her, that didn’t faze her at all. What made her stomach flip was the sight of the brilliant woman sitting next to her. 

Being with her made Selena’s heart bump at the speed of light, being in her presence sent heat traversing through her body, being with her took her breath away. The sky was full of stars. The fair was full of light, and the young brunette was more certain than before that she was absolutely in love with one doctor Eiko Matsunaga.

The wind blew past them again, carrying with it the faint smell of candy apples and the distant sound of people cheering, and Selena knew that this was the right moment.

“Hey, Eiko,” she started, looking out a the fair around them. “I have to tell you something.”

Her breath caught in her throat,

Trying with all her might to steady her beating heart, she took a deep breath and held on to the hem of her top for dear life.

“What?” the brilliant doctor whispered turning around a bright smile on her face.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to say this, oh dear god,” Selena stopped again letting out a shaky breath this time.

Eiko watched as her date tried to find the right words. all the while trying her hardest to keep from erupting with happiness.

She knew what Selena was trying to get at because she felt the exact same way.

“IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!” The brunette blurted out practically screaming.

A few seconds of silence went by and Selena wished the earth would swallow her whole.

When suddenly Eiko erupted into a fit of laughter “I’m melting, I can’t take it you’re too cute.”

The young doctor reached over for one of her soon-to-be-girlfriend’s hand; interlacing their fingers and closing in the space between them. No amount of stars or lights in the night could compare to the brightness Selena saw shining in Eiko’s eyes.

The young brunette let out a relived sigh, feeling like the weight of the world had been taken off of her shoulders. They both kept eye contact with each other, neither of them moving, both only inches apart.

“I love you too.” Eiko smiled, closing in the short distance between them, keeping her eyes closed mostly in fear of how strongly her heart was beating.

Their lips met, and the world stopped.

All around them, the fair faded away. There were no lights from other rides. There was no music. There were no other people. The stars didn’t even exist anymore. It was just them in their own little piece of infinity.

Selena felt as light as a feather. If not for the warmth of Eiko's lips, she would’ve thought she was floating, already high above the fair, past the stars, somewhere in a milky way.

They pulled away from each other, both with their eyes closed too, savoring the moment, and stretching their little infinity a bit longer. When Selena opened her eyes, she found Eiko staring back at her, making her stomach do backflips.. hell at this point it’s a full-on acrobat team down there.

“So does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now? Because I’ve been dying to get matching t-shirts.” Selena asked with a huge smirk on her face.

“Yes to the girlfriend part, and how about matching helmets so whenever my beautiful, sexy, smart, wonderful girlfriend would need a ride home, we’d be prepared.”

Blushing crimson at the way the word ‘girlfriend’ left Eiko’s lips, Selena nodded in content.

The Ferris wheel started moving again and startled Selena who had forgotten where they were entirely.

Sitting back against the seat–this time with no space between both of them beamed with joy, and for the first time in their lives they were blissfully happy.

Fin.

#moty #mother of the year #eiko x mc #Eiko Matsunaga #requested #requests #fanfic #drabbles #choices #play choices #fluff #dialogue prompt #choices fanfic #moty fanfic #zoey day

[starharrington76]

Max woke up to someone's hand on her face and a pounding headache. She shifted and pushed the hand away before squinting. 

It was El. 

She was splayed out on Max's bed like a rainbow covered starfish. Last night, they stumbled into her house covered from head to toe in rainbow stickers, beads, stamps, and stick-on tattoos. They were sharing whispered giggles and holding onto each other tight tight tight but out of joy, not fear. 

El had almost tripped over Billy's boots and Max got her hair stuck in her jacket zipper but that didn't stop their joyous grins. 

Even when they tipped into Max's bed with tired but satisfied eyes, they were still smiling. 

What Max didn't realize is that El was a cuddler. She nestled close in the middle of the night, tucking herself into Max's neck and curling her two long arms around her waist. 

If Max hadn't just come back from Pride where all she could do was yearn and long to hold El's stupid hand and want to kiss her dumb cheek than she'd be all scrambled up right now. 

Well, she was still pretty scrambled up but now it was scrambled with experience. 

She doesn't really want to get up but she knows if she doesn't text Steve to tell him that they successfully made it inside without waking her mother he'll blow up her phone to no end. So she reluctantly peals herself away from El's warm hold and ignores how her chest squeezes when she absently reaches for her in her sleep. 

She steals away downstairs where she can call him without waking her. Steve picks up on the second ring- a horrible attempt to appear nonchalant and fires off a million questions before she can even say hello. 

You guys are alright? Do you need anything? Did you have fun? Want me to bring you breakfast? I can cook something- does your mom like strawberries? 

"Steve." Max huffs. He quiets instantly and she rolls her eyes fondly. "We're fine, we don't need anything. We're going to eat poptarts and Eggos because we can and you already know my mom hates strawberries." 

When would I have learned that?

"You asked her last week while trying to butter her up to get her to allow me to go." 

He paused. Oh. Right. Well, anyway, you had fun?

Despite herself, Max softened. "Yeah, I did. I- I already miss it." 

Steve laughs a bit. Yeah, me too. I always miss it. But don't worry, I'm taking you guys every single year until the day I die. 

"Steve, you're not allowed to die. Nancy said so." Max moved around the kitchen, pulling out Eggos and preheating their oven. 

Did she? 

"Mm hm. And Jonathan agreed and then Will agreed, so you're triple not allowed to." 

That's funny, I distinctly remember Nancy trying to murder me a few days ago. 

"I'm sure it was only because you tried talking to her while she was running on two hours of sleep." 

I still feel like she shouldn't try to murder people. Hopper's going to have to face a tough decision when she finally does. 

"I'm sure it won't be that tough, especially if she murders you." Max quips as she pops two poptarts into her toaster. "He thinks Nancy's the best influence on El." 

Even after she commits a murder?

"Definitely then. He'll say that it's a good skill to have." 

Steve laughed loud and Max heard Robin in the background, most likely slapping at his arm and telling him to shut up. He said something to her- no doubt relaying Max's joke and she got the pleasure of hearing Robin's sleepy snort. 

Alrighty kid, Miss Bossy over hear is telling me to be quiet 'cause she has work later and you know how good I am at listening to the women in my life. I'll pick you and the gang up later- Dustin's mad cause he wasn't able to go. 

"Well, he shouldn't have scheduled a tutoring session for the exact middle of the day. That's on him." She grinned. 

No arguments here. We can probably take him to the arcade and I'll spend a couple bucks on him- he'll forget about it before dinner. 

Max pulled out the Eggos and plated them. "He sure will." 

Don't do anything too wild with your girlfriend- I may be getting murdered by Nancy but Hopper scares me more. 

Max's face went scarlet and she almost dropped her poptarts. "Steve." She hissed. "She's not my girlfriend!" 

There was a shuffle from behind her and Max spun around to see El, rubbing at her eyes tiredly while wearing a long rainbow shirt that Max could've sworn was hers. 

"Not who's girlfriend?" El asked and Max didn't know it was possible, but she got even more red. 

"Uh, bye- Steve, I'll talk to you later!" 

Wha-

Click. 

"Wait!" El's eyes suddenly went wide. "Are those Eggos?" 

Max opened her mouth to respond but El practically ran at the plate of waffles with the most adorable grin on her face. 

"Did you make these for me?" She asked as if Max could've possibly made them for anyone else. 

"Of course I did." She said softly. El looked up and Max caught sight of a piece of glitter near her eye. 

"El, you've got- there's something-" 

El blinked and then rubbed at her eyes but Max gently grabbed her hands and pulled them down. "Here, I'll help." 

Max made sure to be gentle when swiping at the speck of blue. She forced away thoughts of El's soft skin and naturally curled eyelashes and how she seemed to lean into the touch. 

"There." Max breathed. Their faces were close. "It's gone." 

El nodded, her own eyes wide. Max watched in what felt like slow motion as she reached up and touched Max's face. She ran a light finger over Max's cheek. 

"There's a ton of glitter on your face." She said finally, looking determined. "I should help get it off." 

"You-" 

Max wasn't prepared for El to rise up out of her seat and press her lips to Max's cheek. Max felt like she was scrambling, falling, and flying all at once. 

El pulled back and grinned nervously. "There." 

Max swallowed thickly, her eyes cutting to El's lips and the bright red glitter scattered there. 

"El, can i- can I kiss you?" 

El smiled and nodded. "You should." 

And well. Max was never one to defy direct orders. Not from El, at least. 

She cupped El's cheek in her hand and leaned in, pressing their lips together. She tasted of maple syrup and Max felt like she was soaring over the clouds. Like she hit a kick flip and nailed it. 

She pulled away and was sure her silly smile mirrored El's.

 "You taste like strawberry poptarts." El reported with bright eyes. 

"And you taste like maple syrup." Max offered. 

El shrugged, like guilty and grinned a bit. "I heard you talking to Steve earlier." 

"Yeah?" 

"About how you aren't someone's girlfriend." 

"That's true." 

"Would you like to be?" She asked shyly. "Mine, I mean. Because I'd like to be yours." 

Max's smile outshone the sun. "Yes!" 

El ducked her head and Max giggled breathily and they sat there for a moment, just looking at each other before El went-

"Okay wait, but you actually have glitter on your cheek, we should try to get it off." 

"Oh! Right." 

----

☆ I'd love it if you bought me a coffee if you liked my work! <3

#wiping the glitter off of your crush's face the morning after pride can be something that is So Tender #max mayfield #el hopper #max and eleven #ficlet #also peep steve being an amazing babysitter #no billy bc i couldnt figure out where to put him #im sure a lot of yall dont care tho lol #drabble prompts #also background stoncy because Duh

[yourpaceangel]

like a prayer - redux

[original on ao3] - [original on tumblr] - [redux on ao3]

Two days after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t Aziraphale finds himself nestled in the corner of his newly reconstituted bookshoppe, settled low in his soft leather reading chair. He holds a book in his hand gifted to him a century ago by Crowley. It was a copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that Aziraphale had read enough he’d had to recover the paperback in leather. It was typically kept at his bedside or under lock and key in the shop, out of sight and certainly not for sale. On the table at his elbow his tea has long gone cold. It’s been drizzling all morning, a soft patter in the background, light enough to turn to white noise. Aziraphale sighs and puts the book down, using his thumb to hold his place. He doesn’t know why he’s pretending, he hasn’t read a word in over two hours. He’s been too busy thinking about Crowley. [1]

[1] That seems to be his default state these days; thinking about Crowley.

Aziraphale finds a scrap piece of paper and slides it into his book. He reaches for his tea and it’s warm again with just a thought. He holds the cup with both hands for something to do. He wonders where Crowley ran off to. He’d been in such a hurry the other day, finding an excuse to run off just moments after they’d switched back to their proper bodies. Aziraphale has a sinking suspicion he’d disappeared to one of his secret places. It wouldn’t be hard to find Crowley if he wanted to, but that feels like a terrible breach of trust.

There are places Crowley goes, when the world gets to be too much. [2] Aziraphale has never stepped foot - or wing - inside one of these sacred places. Aziraphale has never needed something like that, or he has but it’s the same as the place he lives. His shop, his flat, is his own sacred place.

[2] Heaven and Hell might have a bit to do with it, he supposes. Heaven is vast and achingly empty, so Aziraphale craves his tight cramped space that he can share with someone who cares about him. Hell is overcrowded and everything is forcibly shared, that Crowley would want something of his own is no wonder.

He’d never realized before just how much time Crowley spent in his shop, winding about the book shelves or napping on the couch in the back room. Aziraphale can feel his absence like a physical thing. He feels cold all over and the tea does nothing to warm him up.

Outside the rain gains more strength, loud enough for Aziraphale to notice. He frets with his tea for a moment before deciding to open a bottle of wine. The old armchair groans when he lifts himself out of it. His knees pop, more because he thinks they should than any actual need from his body. He potters about in his wine closet, running a hand absently over the labels.

He has his hand over the bottle of 1941 Haut-Brion when he’s suddenly aware that Crowley is back in London. He wonders what it is about himself that he has this almost sixth sense about where Crowley is. He wonders if Crowley has something similar, based on all the times Crowley’s showed up to save him from inconvenient discorporation.

‘I should check on him’, Aziraphale thinks, ‘just to be sure.’ [3] He grabs the bottle of 1941 and heads out the door. He doesn’t think about the rain until he’s already got the door locked behind himself. He could go back and grab an umbrella but he decides to brave the rain and makes his way over to Crowley’s flat in Mayfair.

[3] He’s not particularly worried that something might be wrong with his friend, but he’s not not worried either.

Aziraphale raps at the door with the back of his knuckles. He’s not entirely surprised when the door clicks open without Crowley on the other side to greet him. He steps inside the flat and hangs up his coat. Crowley’s own black coat is a puddle on the floor and Aziraphale wrinkles his nose in something akin to fondness, hanging that up for him as well.

He finds Crowley in his sitting room, sprawled indelicately across his stylish but uncomfortable couch with his arm over his eyes. “What do you want, angel?” Crowley asks, feigning annoyance. There’s a kind of lethal beauty to Crowley like this, a venomous snake curled up in a tree, lax but not harmless.

“Hullo my dear. I hadn’t seen you since- well, since-” He remembers Crowley’s hand in his own, the lithe delicate fingers wrapped around his own short thick ones. The weight of it. The warmth. Aziraphale had held on, perhaps a moment too long, after the swap back. [4] And then Crowley was ripping his hand away, mumbling excuses and running from St. James’s Park like the Devil himself was on his heels. “And I thought I might pop over for a bit, yeah? I brought a bottle of Chateau Haut-Brion from the cellar.”

[4] There were a lot of things he’d wanted to say then. Things he hadn’t been brave enough to before. Things that were easier to say now without the weight of Heaven on his shoulders.

Crowley sniffs a little at the promise of expensive wine and lets his arm fall away from his eyes. Crowley looks up at him, mouth pressed flat. He holds up the bottle of wine and smiles tentatively.

Crowley sits up fully, his shirt clinging to him. He looks like the rain has soaked him through. “Uh, yeah, okay.” His cheeks are a bit flush, likely from the heat pouring from mighty little space heater. It’s an attractive look.

“I’ll get some glasses,” Aziraphale says and then furrows his brow, “You’re awfully soaked my dear, maybe you should change clothes.”

Crowley tugs at his collar. “I don’t need you to mother me.” He sounds somewhere between fond and petulant.

“Someone has to,” Aziraphale counters and steps out of the room to find the wine glasses. He finds the corkscrew and wine glasses in Crowley’s kitchen, bringing them back into the sitting room.

Crowley is fully dry, likely an infernal miracle. Aziraphale pours their wine and toasts in celebration. “To the World,” He says and hears Crowley echo him as they touch their glasses together.

They stay up too late and break into Crowley’s wine reserves. Aziraphale laughs at a story Crowley’s been telling him about a time in the 15th century when he’d met Leonardo Da Vinci and the contents of some of his private journals. He grins at Crowley, pleasantly drunk and lazy. Crowley is looking back, his eyes unguarded and soft. Aziraphale’s heart thuds in his chest. “My dear, whatever are you staring at?” He asks, perhaps a touch too loud.

“Your hair looks ridiculous. A proper bird’s nest.”

“My hair?” Aziraphale tugs at the front, feeling for why Crowley thinks it might look off. “You think my hair looks ridiculous?” Crowley’s own hair is perfect, as always, and Aziraphale wants to bury his hands in it. He has since Mesopotamia. For some reason he doesn’t think Crowley would appreciate him saying so.

“Utterly.” Crowley says, amused. He’s beautifully drunk, teasing, leaning in close.

“You- your hair is ridiculous!”

“That so, angel?”

“That’s so!”

“Hm.” Crowley brings up his wine glass to hide that lovely smile and Aziraphale lurches.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Aziraphale shoots forward to press a finger against Crowley’s lips.

Crash

Crowley jerks back, putting distance between them again. His wine glass is shattered on the floor, wine seeping into the dark granite.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale exclaims, putting his own glass down gently, “Oh my dear I’m so sorry.” He’s not sure that he’s talking about spilled wine.

Crowley looks shaken. “That’s-” He clears his throat, “That’s quite alright.”

It isn’t. It hasn’t been since St. James’s Park. Aziraphale’s chest aches and he desperately wants to take Crowley’s hands in his own. “I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”

“Nothing a minor miracle can’t take care of.” Crowley says, staring down at the ground.

“No I mean-” Aziraphale shifts, leaning in close again, “Well I suppose I mean this, you and I?” His heart is somewhere in his throat and he tries to breathe through it.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re on about.”

“Crowley you won’t even look at me.”

Crowley does, but his face is carefully neutral and his eyes are guarded again. “Honestly angel, I haven’t the foggiest what you’re going on about.”

He’s lying, and that hurts more than anything. Aziraphale had thought they were past lying to each other. He doesn’t know what to say. ‘Why don’t you trust me?’ He thinks, ‘Why do you seem so far away?’ Finally he settles on hurt. “You’re right, of course, my dear boy,” He stands and runs his hands over his slacks like he’s dusting himself off. He feels sober, despite the fact he has not miracled himself to be. “I’ve got- I have business to attend to, back at the shop, so unfortunately I must take my leave.”

“Are you sure?”

“More so than you.” Aziraphale waves his hand to clear the mess on the floor. “Goodnight my dear.”

“Night,” Crowley echoes.

Aziraphale takes his coat and leaves. He pretends, walking home, that the wetness on his cheeks is just from the rain.

Crowley disappears again, after that.

Aziraphale spends the next three days wandering his shop aimlessly. He opens the shop on the second day for two hours before he gets annoyed and closes back down. He tries to take inventory and finds himself getting distracted. His eyes will catch on stray sunlight streaming across the couch in his back room and find himself missing Crowley so ardently his stomach begins to ache.

When Crowley returns it takes everything in Aziraphale not to seek him out immediately. He takes himself out for sushi and on one night to the theater. He tries to fill his time with his favorite books, though the Wizard of Oz has been put away for the moment. He thumbs through his Oscar Wilde’s almost restlessly until he can’t take it anymore.

He tracks down Crowley in St. James’s Park. It’s set to rain again, the clouds hanging dark and moody in the sky above. Crowley’s sprawled out under a tree. “Budge up,” Aziraphale says, taking a seat on the ground next to him. He supposes any grass stains will be worth the moment. The air between them is charged with static. Crowley grunts and slithers closer to the trunk so Aziraphale can come further under the cover of leaves.

They’re both silent for a while. Aziraphale has a hundred things he wants to say, but can’t seem to find the words. Surprisingly it’s Crowley that breaks the silence first. “I’m sorry.” He says quietly.

Aziraphale looks down at him, shocked, “My dear boy, whatever are you sorry for?”

Crowley shrugs uncomfortably. “For last week I s’pose, I must’ve done something awful to make you leave in such a rush.”

Aziraphale feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Ah,” He says, “I ought apologize myself for that, leaving in such a huff was very ill mannered of me.”

“S’fine.”

‘Is it?’ Aziraphale thinks. ‘Are we?’ What he says is “Well, I suppose that’s settled.” He finds Crowley’s eyes through the dark lens of his glasses and smiles despite himself. “Lunch?”

Crowley grins.

They end up at a lovely little tapas place called Barrafinna. Crowley orders enough for the two of them and then lets Aziraphale have it all. Crowley is more at ease at lunch and it’s easy to tempt him into taking bites from his plate. Aziraphale offers a couple bites from his own fingers to see Crowley’s ears turn red.

Aziraphale dabs at his mouth with a napkin, humming pleasantly. “Utterly scrumptious. Are uh, are you going to finish that my dear?”

Crowley shakes his head and pushes his dessert plate across the table with a fond curl of his lips.

“Ah, thank you.”

Crowley hums, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. He looks distant but lovely, always so lovely. Aziraphale closes his eyes to chew because if he looks at Crowley for a moment longer he might just blurt out his feelings right here at the table.

“Good?” Crowley asks.

“Marvelous,” Aziraphale says, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin, “my dear you do always know the best places.”

“I could take you to more, now that the world is saved and all.”

‘I love you.’ “I would like that very much.” Aziraphale drops his hands to his lap to hide their trembling.

Crowley coughs and curls his hand over his mouth, looking away. “Well then, home now angel?”

Aziraphale’s insides jerk, like the moment in a dream when you start to fall. He wants nothing more than to stay in Crowley’s company like this, forever. He takes a short breath and says carefully, “I thought today might be a rather nice day for a drive.”

“Angel, it’s raining.”

“Not to bad, no,” He feels like he’s begging. He shouldn’t be begging. “You can drive slow.”

“Well-”

“Come on Crowley, anywhere you want to go.”

Crowley closes his eyes. He looks utterly undone and Aziraphale wants to reach across the table and take his face in his hands. Wants to stroke those sharp cheekbones and kiss his brow. “Alright,” Crowley says and he’s practically breathless, “I’ll settle up.”

Aziraphale waits for him in the Bentley, thrumming with nervous energy. Crowley seems a bit dazed when he gets into the car. His hands are on the wheel but he’s not really moving them, the Bentley sliding neatly around traffic anyway. Aziraphale keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and steady stream of rain. He keeps his hands folded primly in his lap. He doesn’t trust himself not to reach across the cab and take one of Crowley’s in his own if he doesn’t.

The radio plays, filling the air between them. Aziraphale taps his fingers and hums vaguely along with the song playing. He knows the words, sort of, but mostly he knows the tune from hearing Crowley hum it so often.

Fields roll by. Crowley seems more in charge of the vehicle now, steadily ramping up the speed despite the rain and wet roads. He grips his own hands, white knuckled, and presses his lips thin. This moment, all of these moments, mean nothing if Crowley discorporates the both of them.

“Alright there angel?”

“I don’t see why you have to go so fast, my dear,” Aziraphale complains, clenching his own hand tighter through a rough curve, “why are you in such a hurry?”

The Bentley slows. “Don’t know any other way to go, angel,” Crowley says softly, almost absently. He’s not- They’re not talking about the drive anymore.

Aziraphale turns to look at him. Crowley fidgets under his gaze, turning his head to watch the road. He wants to know, he has to know-

“Where are we going, Crowley?” They’re not talking about the drive anymore.

“Anywhere. Wherever I stop. Anywhere is good enough as long as you’re beside me.”

Oh, and that’s- that’s what Aziraphale has wanted to hear for centuries. He inhales sharply and a shock of love suffuses through him like a lightning bolt. Crowley’s knuckles go white on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense up around his ears. He looks like he’s waiting for a death sentence.

“Yes,” Aziraphale says breathlessly, “Yes, alright.”

Crowley’s ears turn an endearing shade of pink and it’s all Aziraphale can do not to touch him.

They stop in Manchester for dinner and Aziraphale didn’t complain when they got back in the Bentley and continued driving north. Crowley turns the Bentley into a field somewhere south of Edinburgh, the car seeming to float over the grass and not leave tire tracks. He parks and the car goes blessedly silent.

There is no light around for miles save the moon and stars. Crowley looks ever so handsome backlit by starlight. He looks softer here, less sharp lines and more boneless. Aziraphale can’t help but stare, but it’s alright because Crowley is staring right back.

Aziraphale clears his throat, “Well…” He trails off. He’s quite forgotten what he meant to say.

“Well?” Crowley asks, the corner of his lips tilting up. He leans forward against the wheel. A lock of hair falls over his forehead. He looks quietly amused and smitten and Aziraphale wants.

“Yes, well…” He sighs. It feels important and he wants to do this right. He can see Crowley about to open his mouth so he barrels on, just to fill the quiet. “It’s very beautiful here, and the moon is so lovely and full tonight. It’s not often we get to see the stars.”

“I know,” Crowley hums. “This is one of mine, you know? I picked it for the stars and the smell of sweet grass. The wildflowers bloom madly in late spring.”

“You will have to bring me to see them, my dear,” Aziraphale smiles, “perhaps a picnic.”

Crowley’s hands tense back up again. “Yes,” He says, his throat working like he’s trying to get the words out past a lump, “I’ll make devilled eggs and you can make those damned cress sandwiches you’re so fond of.”

“Of course; and we’ll have wine, maybe a cake as well.” The thought hits him late. This is one of mine, you know? Crowley can’t mean, well, he can’t mean that- “Crowley,” He says slowly, “what did you mean this place is one of yours? You don’t mean-” He can’t be wrong, please don’t let him be wrong. “Crowley, my dear boy, is this one of your hiding spots?”

“I don’t use this one often but yes.”

“And you brought me here.”

“Yes.”

“With you.”

“Yes angel, do keep up.”

Aziraphale’s heart opens like a bloom. The intensity for which he years for Crowley magnifies ten fold at the way he sees Crowley’s hands begin to tremble. His eyes go rather misty as he says “oh Crowley.” Crowley tries to bury his shaking hands in his lap.

Aziraphale reaches across the cab - a lifetime of almosts in between them - and cradles Crowley’s jaw in his hand. Crowley sucks in a wet breath and blows it out trembling.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale finds Crowley’s hand with his own and grips him firmly, “You make me ever so happy.”

“Angel I-”

Aziraphale won’t allow any protest. “Dearest,” Aziraphale leans in, close as he dares and then closer still, “how I love you.” He used to pray like this, soft and reverential. Now it is only a tone he dares use for Crowley, a prayer he knows will be answered.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley gasps. Aziraphale can’t stand not seeing his eyes anymore. He needs- he has to know. He lets his fingers drift up to Crowley’s sunglasses and waits, needing permission to remove that last barrier between them. “Yeah.” Aziraphale removes his sunglasses with a tenderness he rarely displays. Crowley’s eyelashes are wet with unshed tears and Aziraphale drags his thumb tenderly under his eye. Crowley’s eyes open, completely vulnerable and trusting and still afraid.

“Oh love,” Aziraphale murmurs - he can’t stop himself, now that he’s said the words - as he wipes away a tear rolling down Crowley’s cheek. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“No,” Crowley breathes, “no, Aziraphale I-” he squeezes Aziraphale’s hand hard, “Angel I’ll ruin you.”

“Nonsense,” Aziraphale says because it’s true. He presses their foreheads together. Crowley’s breath is shaky but Aziraphale is steady and sure. He’s never been more sure of anything in his existence. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I love you,” Crowley gasps, “I love you, I love you, I love you-” And Aziraphale breaks, pressing their mouths together to secure the words between their lips.

Kissing Crowley is everything. It’s millennia of feigned fights and soft bickering, of being treated to dining and wine and everything in between. Aziraphale has loved all of Crowley for hundreds of years, but he has the suspicion Crowley has waited longer, so much longer. ‘Thank you,’ He thinks, ‘Thank you for waiting for me.’ Crowley goes pliant and soft under him, opening himself to Aziraphale like he has over and over for thousands of years. This time Aziraphale won’t let him fall, this time Aziraphale will be there to catch him.

When Aziraphale pulls away Crowley chases after his mouth, bony hand darting up to clutch at the lapel of his jacket to keep him close. It’s endearing and heartbreaking.

“I’m here love,” Aziraphale says, running his thumb along Crowley’s jaw, “you have me. For as long as you like.”

“Long as I like?” Crowley’s cheeks are burning and he sounds lovestruck, “How’s eternity sound?”

Darling boy, precious boy. “I’d like that,” Aziraphale smiles and his heart yearns.

Crowley breathes and laces their fingers together. Crowley’s love feels like a torrent of rain after a draught, all consuming and unstoppable. Aziraphale wants to keep him like this, forever. He presses his lips to Crowley’s temple and then again to the thin skin under his eye. ‘I want to keep him, please let me keep him.’

They spend the night in a charming little hotel in Edinburgh, Crowley clinging to Aziraphale’s chest and Aziraphale’s hands in his hair. The drive back to London the next day in spent in companionable silence, their hands clasped together between them. Aziraphale kisses Crowley’s knuckles and runs a thumb over the back of his hand just because he can.

When they make it back to the bookshoppe Crowley sprawls out across the couch in the back room like he belongs there. And he does, belong there. Aziraphale finds his copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and shuffles Crowley around until he can sit and let Crowley place that lovely head of his in his lap. He wonders if Crowley will let him read it to him some time. Time being something that they have much of now, all the time in the World.

A month later they’re in New York City. Crowley opens the door to a lovely rooftop garden. Some of the plants here shouldn’t be here, a couple are even extinct. When Crowley lets the door slam shut behind them the flowers shake in their pot. Above them and crawling along the walls is a handsome English Ivy that seems to wave hello. Aziraphale recognizes it after a moment as the same kind that used to grow along the side of his shop and he smiles at Crowley, touching the creeping vines.

“Lovely,” He says, “Really beautiful.”

“Oh hush,” Crowley says, “you give them an inch and they’ll take a mile.”

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of positive reinforcement. You seem to enjoy it, as I recall.”

“Shut up,” Crowley whines, the tips of his ears turning that charming shade of pink.

Aziraphale steps in close to hold Crowley’s face in his hands. He lets his fingers dance along the little blush on his ears. “Precious boy,” He says, pressing a kiss to a sharp cheekbone.

Across the room an attractive Rose bush bloom, pink and red petals opening and letting out a soothing sweet aroma. A pot of green carnations turn toward them. Above, that old English Ivy ripples.

Crowley ducks his head to hide it against Aziraphale’s collar bone, sighing softly. Aziraphale reaches his hands back to play with Crowley’s hair. It’s something he’s found himself doing more of lately, twirling dark red locks between his fingers while he reads or drinks his tea. “I like this,” Aziraphale says, meaning many things, “I’m glad you decided to show me.” He’s happy, and proud, and very much in love.

“I like you,” Crowley says, kissing Aziraphale’s neck like a punctuation. He looks up to glare at his plants. “Don’t get any ideas, I’ll still bin the lot of you.”

Aziraphale laughs. “You won’t.”

He’s right.

#fic #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #mine

[theofawn]

🙏 : our muses’ hands brush as they walk side by side . (elyas)

@aldcr

mickinley middle school was a perpetual hustle and bustle. students milled about in the courtyard. some chatted aimlessly while others toss a ball back and forth while they waited for the bell to ring and dismiss them for the weekend. by the looks of the clouds overhead, they’d all be lucky to get home before it started raining again. it felt like it had been storming for over a week. theo sat underneath a tree with her journal, content to write for the remainder of the day. she’d never been very good at talking with people. for the most part, she preferred to blend into the background and observe rather than putting herself out there. afterall, why would anyone want to talk to her? she would likely annoy them anyway.

“whatcha writin’ theodora?” the brutish voice came from behind her. oh great. vince.

“it’s just a poem-” she began to explain, but the journal was pulled out from under her pen before she had the opportunity to get any further. “hey!”

“probably something totally tragic.” chloe stood with her hands on her hips and looked down her nose at the girl on the ground. it was one of theo’s greatest mysteries. if she ever figured out what she did to make the girl despise her, she’d be a better detective than batman. her mom had always said that some girls were just born mean, but theo didn’t believe that.

“no, I-”

“I don’t think so chloe. it looks like a love note.” vince laughed as he read theo’s hastily scribbled script. “it says something about dark eyes.”

“could you please-”

“dark eyes?” chloe basically cackled the words. “ooh la la. do tell more.”

“-and dimples!”

theo could feel the heat crawling up her neck and into her cheeks and ears. the hot embarrassment making her mind almost completely blank. they were laughing at her. “vince, stop!” she lunged out and reached for her journal, but the much larger boy had quicker reflexes and kept it well out of her reach. he turned to take a few steps away from theo who was still ready to grab for her writings again and ran directly into another person.

“don’t you two have something better to do than give your best impression of b-list teen movie villains?”

it seemed as though elyas came out of nowhere. he was two years older than theo, and his presence only ensured that her face flushed even redder than it had been previously. most people considered him to be a bit of a wild card.

“c’mon, we’re just having a bit of fun.” vince replied with a roll of his eye, but didn’t bother to even look back at theo, much less return her book.

“she doesn’t look like she’s having fun.” elyas looked over and met her eyes. he quirked a eyebrow up and asked. “are you having fun?”

her tongue suddenly forgot how to make syllables. “I- well, uh. you see, it’s... uhm, no. no. I’m not having fun.” theo managed to stammer out as she shook her head from side to side. she just wanted her journal back and to get out of the spotlight as soon as possible. thunder rolled through the distant sky.

“from the mouths of babes-�� elyas shrugged and held out his hand expectantly. “so let’s make this easier for everyone and hand over her book, okay?”

it all happened very quickly following that. vince scoffed. “make me.” that was a sentence that never went over very well. elyas reached out and grabbed ahold of the journal. vince didn’t let go. elyas leaned forward and headbutted vince. theo gasped loudly. vince drew back to hit elyas, but chloe grabbed his arm first. chloe took the journal and tossed it into a puddle. the bell rang. vince was pulled away from the entire affair by chloe who promptly called both elyas and theo freaks over her shoulder. a steady rain began falling.

as the raindrops began to hit her cheek, theo glanced at the sky. it was ominously dark. it took almost no time at all for the sky to fall out on top of them. it went from a sprinkle to a deluge in moments. theo made a beeline for the nearest covering. elyas had enough forethought to snatch the journal off the ground before doing the same.

“I’m so sor-” “do you think it’s salvageable?” elyas cut off theo’s apology to hand finally hand back her journal. one look at the sopping wet book of paper was enough to tell theo that it wasn’t. that journal was officially dead to her. she exhaled solemnly. everything inside was likely ruined too. “uh, maybe. I’ll have to put it under a hair dryer when I get home.” theo accepted the journal from him and tucked it inside of her bag. “by the way, I’m really sor-” “do you have a ride coming?”

elyas nodded back towards the lined cars prepared to pick up students. “what?” theo asked, a bit confused.

“is your dad coming to get you?” he repeated, a faint light of amusement in his eyes.

“uh... no. I actually walk home.” although it was beginning to get too cold to do that. her walk to school was short, but she still managed to get numb fingers before reaching her destination in this weather. they both looked out at the now wall of rain. “you know, usually.”

elyas picked up an umbrella from where it was resting next to the awning post. “I’ll walk you.” he offered. theo instantly shook her head.

“oh no, that’s okay. you don’t have to.” he’d wasted enough of his day on her. surely he had better things to do than walk her back home. instead of leaving, however, he furrowed his brows and noted her obvious lack of umbrella.

“unless you plan on swimming home instead?” he asked. theo shook her head as the umbrella opened. “come on.” it was said with such finality that theo didn’t dare to say no again. it seemed like his mind was made up on the matter.

they walked in silence for a while. the only sound was the steady rain hitting the top of the umbrella and footsteps on the wet pavement. theo racked her brain for something to talk about, but for once in her life there was absolutely nothing that came to mind. she kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her. because if she couldn’t manage to hold a conversation, she could focus on not tripping over her own two feet at the very least.

“I-”

“so-”

they both stepped over each others words. theo winced. “you go first.” she insisted.

“I was just going to say that I heard about your mom.” he shrugged and looked up into her eyes. you could tell there was a recognition there. the sort of sadness only understood by those who had seen that sort of loss. “I’m sorry.”

the back of his hand brush against hers as they turned the corner down the street she lived on. elyas flexed his hand and quickly moved it to rest on the back of his neck. theo squeezed her own hand shut. “and you shouldn’t listen to what those guys back there say. they’re all cookie cutters anyway.” the statement felt a bit tacked on like he realized that perhaps she wasn’t ready to talk about her mom yet. it was an easy out, and honestly, she was thankful.

“you shouldn’t either.” theo said, smiling quietly as thunder rolled again in the distance. she wondered when these storms were going to end.

“huh?”

“you shouldn’t listen to them either. you’re really nice.” she wanted to offer to let her dad drive him home once they reached her house, but there was no telling what sort of state he would be in. if the last few days were any indication, it would not be a state capable of operating large machinery like his car. “I can make it from here. you should head home. it’s supposed to get really cold tonight.” theo said, hoping that neither of them woke up with a fever tomorrow.

“don’t worry, I can handle the cold.”

#hutchingsb #;theo #;elyas #;flashback #;drabbles #;asks #;answered #;idk #this became it's own entity #HAPPY BIRTHDAY #tw: violence #tw: parental death #tw: death

[marshmallowgoop]

Kill la Kill Books!

Got a small haul of Kill la Kill books the other day!

SUSHIO CLUB LOVE LOVE KLKL has been a glaring omission from my collection, so when I saw a listing of the book for 3,600 yen—which usually goes for 10,000+ these days—I bought it right away.

And I figured I might as well pick up a few more things while I was at it, right? To make the shipping more cost effective?

That’s definitely the only reason.

But anyway, my growing mass of Kill la Kill books and magazines has now reached 36 items.

And I’ve talked about some of this merch before; you can find my post about the Febri volume 21 issue here, my post about Fractal 10 here, my post about the Talking About Composite books, The Complete Script Book, and The Art of KLK Vol. 3 here (and I have a whole tag for the script book, #klk-script-book), and I yammer on about the nine Blu-ray key art collection and artboard books here. I also have several essays discussing the official manga adaptation: 

Kill la Kill Manga Chapter 7

Kill la Kill Manga Volume 3, Chapters 8-17: Thoughts and Impressions

Kill la Kill Manga Volume 3: Translation Notes, Anime Differences

Kill la Kill Manga Volume 3: Worth it?

Manga Differences

And now, I wanna briefly (lol) yap about the six new additions to my collection.

Because I have a lot of love in my heart for this ridiculous, ridiculous anime.

SUSHIO CLUB LOVE LOVE KLKL

So, I got this book for cheap because it was allegedly in poor shape and “not suitable for collection.”

(My reaction to “not suitable for collection” is always, “It’s suitable for my garbage collection! I’ll give your ‘ugly’ copies a loving home!”)

But, like? There are a couple of dents and folded corners, but the condition is really not bad at all. The art is completely intact and beautiful.

Sushio—who is the character designer for Kill la Kill—has shared much of this book on his Twitter, and I would definitely recommend fans of the series to scroll through his photos and have a look. There’s such a cute, sweet charm to Sushio’s work, and along with the polished, colored pages from LOVE LOVE that he shares online, he also shares sketches of his own fanart for the series, too.

(Okay, maybe this isn’t exactly the best demonstration of Sushio’s absolutely precious artwork, but. It’s one of my favorites from the book. Ryuko resorting to such wild extremes to be with Senketsu again is just. My heart. Kill la Kill is actually adorable.)

In any case, I don’t think any of the content in LOVE LOVE was new to me, but there’s just really something about having the book in my hands. I know there’s such a strong desire for digital media these days, but call me old-fashioned—there’s nothing quite like holding this art and really seeing every stroke and line in person.

Being able to physically flip through the pages also makes me notice things I didn’t before. For instance, I found myself charmed by the little detail of Barazo, Mako’s father, loving and adoring Sukuyo, Mako’s mother.

I mean, aw? It’s stuff like this that really makes me wish Kill la Kill were a kids’ show (as Sushio himself seemed to want!) Barazo is so much more likeable when there aren’t any signs of his less-than-pleasant behavior and he’s a loving, supportive husband and father.

Seriously!

Another thing I notice from having the book now is the order in which the pages are organized. Like, I couldn’t help but be amused about how Ryuko gets her own page here...

(Smiling for her Starketsu in the sky, right? Just like he asks her to in “Till I Die”?)

...and then the next pages have Satsuki beside Nonon and Mako (and Mataro) beside Ira...

...which strikes me as a bit funny because this isn’t exactly how Sushio organized his Tweets of these images. There, Satsuki was next to Ryuko, Nonon was next to no one, Mako and Mataro were next to Ira, and Uzu was next to Houka:

So, in LOVE LOVE, is Sushio deliberately trying to say something with the changed placement? Especially when it comes to the direction of the ladies’ eyes? 

Yeah???

I kid, I kid.

(But really, it looks much better to give Ryuko her own page and not have Nonon standing next to nobody.)

Also, one of the first things that popped out to me about LOVE LOVE is how Senketsu’s pages are right next to Ryuko’s pages. As they should be.

They belong together, okay?!

And speaking of Senketsu and Ryuko, I remember a comment years back that said you could probably find pics of your OTP with matching expressions in this book.

But, uh. Just compare Senketsu posing to Ryuko posing...

They’re kind of different types of people, lol.

But hey, they do both make cute sneezy faces.

As a final note about my copy of LOVE LOVE, I will say that my only disappointment is that I received the version with print errors. As such, this page of Nui...

...was accidentally printed twice, and I miss out on this page of Nui as a result:

There are also some minor goofs, like Mako’s arm getting cut off by the background here:

But considering I got this beautiful thing for only 3,600 yen, I really can’t complain!

Now I just need Sushiotan 2 to complete my Sushio Kill la Kill doujin collection....

Takepro

This charming little volume is a collection of animator fanart for the show (and other shows). The book includes a short profile for each featured artist, and their big Kill la Kill pieces are—like all titles in Kill la Kill—named after classic Japanese pop songs. You can read and see more about Takepro here.

It’s hard to pick favorites from this doujin because there is so much adorable and wonderful artwork, but I especially love Naoki Takeda’s “ここに幸あり,” or “Here is My Happiness,” named after the song by Yoshitsu Ootsu.

The picture features Ryuko, Mako, and Satsuki sitting together, all having a good time, and there’s just something so sweet about seeing happy Satsuki.

I also found an English translation of the song’s lyrics, courtesy of beast-senior 810:

The storm breaks and the rain falls Thorny as the women's path might be I would still keep on living with you And my happiness is here in the blue sky 

I could not tell anybody of my scars A bird of love that resided in my chest If only I wander about crying and evading A sorrowful night wind will blow through the streets 

I call out your name from the bottom of my heart Who will be awaiting me at the end of the echoes? Snuggle up to you and cheerfully look up to your face And my happiness is here in the white clouds 

Aw. This song is so Satsuki.

And speaking of Satsuki, I can’t get over how cute she and Ryuko look on the cover of this book. Like??

Aw! 

I also am quite fond of a small piece by Syuichi Iseki, which is in a super-deformed style and features Satsuki comforting Nonon after her uniform is destroyed during the Naturals Election. Nonon cries, and Satsuki pats her head. In the background, Ira looks distressed at the display, Houka seems to be deciphering it, and Mako smiles. It’s really, really cute.

Yoshie Endo’s “僕笑っちゃいます,” or “I’m Laughing,” named for the song by Shingo Kazami, is also real cute. It depicts Mataro holding up Guts, who licks his face. It’s another one of those, “I-so-wish-Kill-la-Kill-were-a-kids’-show” kinda pieces....

Hiroyuki Imaishi’s Doujin

Admittedly, I don’t actually know the title of this one, but it’s a very small doujin by Kill la Kill director Hiroyuki Imaishi. There isn’t too much Kill la Kill content, but there are two pages of Ryuko and Satsuki in their respective Kamui, accompanied by some text.

I thought the text might be something about the show, but it seems like it’s actually about Imaishi’s experience working on the show. And... it’s rather sad? He talks about how he’s able to accomplish more now, but he also has to consider a lot more as well, and he doesn’t have the time and energy that he used to. It’s a lot about aging and growing old.

At least, I think that’s what’s being communicated. Here’s a transcription, though:

なんだろう。

初会社役員とか。

昔よりやれることは増えたが考えなきゃいけないことも増えて時間と体力は足りなくなっていく。

年相応とも言える。

だけどいつまでも大人気なく生きていきたいものだ。

One last interesting thing about this doujin is the material it’s made from; it’s different than any other book in my collection. I’m not an artist, so forgive me if I sound totally ignorant here, but the paper reminds me watercolor paper. It definitely took me by surprise!

SL Sketch 3

SL Sketch 3 is a small fan doujin by Buzin. You can find most of the art in this book on their Tumblr!

Sketch 3 is a really fun collection of sketches, and I especially love the cover. I’m so desperate for art where Senketsu is acknowledged as an actual person that I’m just all heart eyes over Ryuko smiling at him here.

March 2014 Newtype

Okay, so this one’s really a magazine, not a book, but wow. I was taken aback by what’s inside!

I’ll definitely have to look at this issue in more depth because there are a bunch of Kill la Kill goodies in here that I didn’t even expect. And I don’t think most of it has been translated at all!

I also realized that I’ve been mixing up my Newtypes and will have to fix my resources page. But on the bright side, there is so much to love about this issue.

Like, the Elite Four Light Novel got reprinted in the Kamui Bansho, but it’s way better here because it has pictures!

I also love how Nonon, out of all the Elite Four, is the only one who stands beside Satsuki in these illustrations.

And I don’t even know what this is (VR or something with Ami Koshimizu, Ryuko’s VA?), but it’s cute and got me smiling:

And Ryo Akizuki, the mangaka for the official Kill la Kill manga, made a small comic about his experience working on the project. I like the little title panel with Ryuko, Senketsu, and Mako a lot:

Plus, there’s a shiny ad for the manga’s second volume, too:

One of the things that most caught my interest, though, is an article about the second opening song for Kill la Kill, GARNiDELiA’s “ambiguous”:

I got so curious about this bit because I’ve heard varying, conflicting information regarding the meaning behind the song’s lyrics. On the one hand, I’ve heard that half of the song is from Ryuko to Senketsu, and the other half is from Satsuki to Ryuko. On the other hand, I’ve heard that the whole song is from Satsuki to Ryuko. But I’ve never found any concrete sources for either of these claims!

So, I was hoping the Newtype article would help, but it’ll take a lot more digging into. Still, briefly looking over the page, I did find this bit: 

そんな私の思いと歌詞が一致しました。 『キルラキル』でいう流子ちゃんと神衣・鮮血の関係に近いかもしれませんね。 

Roughly, it says, “As such, my thoughts about the song agreed with its lyrics. You might say it’s like the relationship between Ryuko and Kamui Senketsu in Kill la Kill.”

I’m not totally sure about the context here—and I admittedly don’t even know the author’s involvement in the making of "ambiguous”—but this article might explain where the Ryuko-and-Senketsu reading of the song came from. It’s definitely something I’d like to delve into more.

Because I really love the Ryuko-and-Senketsu reading of the song, okay, and I’d love some actually official backup for it!

Finally, another favorite part of the Newtype is simply all the art. Takafumi Hori’s spread is particularly great:

(You can find a cleaner image here.)

Just... dang. I wish I got a little poster of this instead of the ones actually included in the Newtype! The artwork is just stunning.

And one of the cutest things about the Newtype is all the fanart from its readers! I particularly love the little Valentine’s Day special; there’s an illustration of Ryuko giving Senketsu chocolate, and there’s also a Ryumako piece, too!

Kill la Kill Storyboard Ep. 01

Finally, one of my favorites from this haul is the Kill la Kill Storyboard Ep. 01. The book was included as a shop bonus for the original Japanese Blu-ray/DVD release, though I was able to win it by itself in an auction. I do think I overpaid a bit, but gosh, it’s a lovely addition to my collection. It’s just really neat to see the production process of an anime in action. I wish there were storyboard books for every episode in the show!

Hiroyuki Imaishi’s storyboards are also just super amusing. Here is a small sampling of some of my faves (because there is so much gold in here, my goodness):

And that’s all for now!

...I guess this really wasn’t so brief at all, huh?

Shocker.

#kill la kill #klk official art #sushio #hiroyuki imaishi #sushio club love love klkl #takepro #sl sketch 3 #newtype #klk storyboard ep. 01 #naoki takeda #syuichi iseki #yoshie endo #buzin #ryo akizuki #takafumi hori #video #music #ramblings #long post #blood #i still have to pick all my books up off the floor....

[kagomechronicles]

Are you taking scenarios? If so, I'd like a Levi/Kagome scenario where Levi is forced to come to terms with how much he cares for her. But with a TWIST! Could you also make it somewhat tragic and grim (without either of them dying)? Idk if this makes sense, but think of a super twisted situation to place them in. And make it clear that Levi has fallen in love with her. Thank you ~ I love your writing!

Oh my… Oh oh my… This is something…. I’ll do my best!For some background, Kagome will be a member of Levi’s Squad, and this takes place before Annie is discovered to be the Female Titan. (This could be a weird spin off of my fic Where I Belong) 

Also, I didn’t edit this at all. (WARNING: THIS MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME)

“Oi! Where the hell is she?” Levi’s dark and threatening voice startled the two lower-ranked scouts that guarded the dungeon area.

“C-Captain!” They both turned to salute him, trembling and nervous as he closed the distance, “I- uh… We’re under strict orders not to divulge any information to anyone, including you.”

Levi leaned in close, eyes narrowing in on both soldiers, “Is that so? Well, it’s quite unfortunate for you that I don’t seem to give a damn about your orders. Tell me where she is or I will kick the answers out of both of you. Your pick.”

Both of them visibly gulped before pointing down the hall. “Last cell on the right.” One piped up after a few seconds.

The captain sped in that direction, though not before turning back and telling those poor men to get the fuck out of here, to which they immediately obliged. He was annoyed. No, he was absolutely furious about what he had heard. He had seen that everyone was going insane trying to figure out the identity of the Female Titan and possible allies, like some sort of sick obsession that clouded their minds, but he never expected that this would happen. His burning rage was practically boiling his blood and he was sure his skin would be hot to the touch right about now. 

Though, nothing would have prepared him for what he’d see when he walked into that cell.

Kagome Higurashi stood there, shoulders hunched over like she was about to fall, but her wrists were chained above her head to keep her up. There was a blindfold that covered her eyes as if to keep her even further in the dark about her own detainment, like the shadowy darkness in the cell wasn’t enough. 

But more than that, as he looked down at her clothes, a typical white button up and tan pants, he noticed that they were all torn and stained with a brown-crimson, which he could only assume was dried up blood. Her dried up blood. Levi swallowed harshly at that realization. And, with further examination, he realized that the same colors seemed to be painted on bits of her skin as well, especially on her limp hands.

“Please…” Her voice squeaked out like it was taking all of her energy, “No more. I swear, I don’t know anything…”

He walked closer to her. When her mouth was closed, she looked like she was practically dead. He would have assumed that if he hadn’t detected the faintest rise and fall of her chest.

“I can’t take it anymore.” She whispered again. 

And neither could he. He couldn’t stand that, right now, she thought he was going to hurt her. Of course, she couldn’t see who he was, but hearing her beg him like that still made him feel like a monster. And he was no stranger to human torture. He had numbed himself to it because it was a necessity in some cases. But when the pleads came from her dried and tired lips, his stomach dropped and he felt absolutely sick. 

With one quick movement, he ripped her blindfold off of her and watched as she blinked her eyes in astonishment, her vision adjusting as she looked around the cell before landing her gaze on him.

“L-Levi…” It was mumbled at first as though she was asking herself if he was even real right now. And then, her eyes widened and she gasped, “Levi! You have to listen to me. I don’t know anything.”

“I know you don’t, Kagome.” He huffed, slowly raising his hand and gently wiping away some of the dirt and grime on her cheek with his thumb.

“You do? You believe me?” Her brows were turned upward as she seemed to have to catch her breath after each sentence. Exhausted. That was the only way he could think to describe it.

“Tch. I’m not an idiot, Kagome. If you were a damn enemy, I would have figured that out a long time ago.” He asserted, and the woman let out a breath of relief.

“…They don’t believe me, though. Hange, Moblit, Miche, even Erwin. They keep saying that I’m working with the Female Titan.” Kagome eyes glazed over as her body trembled, “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t take another one of their interrogations, Levi. It’s too much.”

“What did they do?” He asked, trying to keep his patience despite his own growing desperation to know. Not that anyone would be able to tell as his demeanor remained stoic.

“Hit me. Whipped me. Broke all of my fingers. All while screaming for information that I don’t have.” She hissed out, “Next, they will rip out my fingernails. I can’t go through with that…” She took inhaled shakily, “…If you can’t save me, could you kill me?”

His breath hitched in his throat at that request. And he continued to stare with his unreadable, yet focused expression before forcing out a quiet ‘yes’.

But he didn’t want to let it get that far. He had lost almost every member of his squad so far besides her and Eren. And that made her the second-in-command because of her skills and kill count. He didn’t want to lose that asset. With the Scout Regiment’s high death rate, they couldn’t afford to lose such a promising soldier. 

Or at least, that was his rationale. He tried to reason with himself that he was only getting so damn worked up about her pain because he knew she was innocent, on top of being absolutely valuable. That had to be the explanation. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring into her, meeting her gaze, swallowing her whole and wondering if this was going to be the last time. Wondering if anyone would ever have eyes like hers or if she was some once in a lifetime sort of experience. 

“Oi, Levi! Back away from her!” Another voice echoed into the cell, and Levi quickly turned to see Hange and Miche standing in the doorway, “She is a suspect. We have to interrogate her as such without letting any emotion get in the way.” Miche was confident with that assertion, and Hange seemed to stand by it.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me that you arrested her? You were just gonna interrogate a member of my squad, then act like you hadn’t seen her all damn day? Tch. Pathetic. Of course I’d find out.” He stood up, grateful that he had been wearing his ODM gear. “I’m not going anywhere without her. It’s not her fault you’re all too obsessed with the Female Titan to use your shitty brains. She’s obviously not involved in this.”

“We have reason to believe she is.” Hange countered.

“Yeah, I heard about that little tip you jackasses got. What? Some anonymous note connecting Kagome’s vague past to some psychotic Titan shifter?” The captain began gripping the handles of his blades tightly, both still in their metal sheathes. “That’s what you’re torturing her based on? There’s been no real evidence against her, fucking shitheads. And I’m not letting you touch her, again.”

The room was tense, thick air almost unbreathable. No one seemed to be backing down, and the dark-haired man began to wonder if he really was going to have to kill Kagome here and now.

“Levi, we can’t let her go until we’re completely certain that she’s innocent.” Hange maintained, though the fact that she was currently dressed in a white apron with latex gloves. It was clear the plan wasn’t just to hold her in this cell.

“Then, I’ll watch over her until then. I could handle it better than you, shitty four-eyes. And way better than that fucking tree next to you.” The captain growled. He had the advantage right now, being the only one with ODM gear. Still, was he prepared to turn on his comrades and possibly the entire Scout Regiment?

He turned briefly at the sound of shackles rustling together and saw Kagome once more. And even though she was weak and scared for now, he could still see that spark inside of her. Rambunctious. Wild. And yet, so loyal and compassionate. And he knew he would be prepared to turn on anyone who dared to vilify that. She encompassed everything the world should be. And he’d be damned if he didn’t protect that.

“We can handle her, and we can do it without letting our personal feelings get in the way.” Miche barked back, “You need to leave.”

That was it. Levi pulled out one of his blades, turned, and broke the chains that held the woman in one swing. Immediately, her knees gave out and she stumbled forward before a strong arm caught her and pulled her in close. Soon, Levi had wrapped around her waist and held her to his chest, taking the majority of her weight. With his free hand, he pointed the blade at the elites blocking the exit.

“Get out of my way. I’m going to handle this.” He asserted, “Why don’t you try actually solving this shitty case instead of wasting time torturing our own people.”

Looking down, the captain noticed how she leaned into him, palms pressed against his chest as if she wanted to grip the fabric of his shirt, but couldn’t with her broken fingers. Her eyes were closed now, absolutely terrified of what the outcome may be from all of this. After all she had gone through in the Scouts, watching friends die and battling Titans, she had never once seemed to be so hopeless. He had found it annoying, initially, how optimistic and playful she managed to remain despite being a part of the most horrifying branch of the military. And he remembered wondering what it would take for her to lose all of that. Though, this situation hadn’t once entered his mind before now.

“Can you walk with me, Kagome?” He whispered to her. 

Her eyes snapped open and, with her lips sucked in between her teeth, she nodded.

“Let’s go, then.” He led her out of the cell, keeping his blade pointed at Hange and Miche. And, for good measure, shut the cell door and locked it. He knew they had the keys, but it would take them a few to unlock it. And that was all he needed to bring the woman beside him to safety.

Up and out towards the barracks they went, but it was towards his room, not hers, that he led her. He’d give Erwin an earful, or perhaps more than that sometime later on. For now, though, he would have her stay with him where he could make sure no one else got their grubby hands on her. She was too weak to fight back with all of these injuries.

“You can rest in my bed.” The captain asserted as he opened his room door. It wasn’t as if he ever slept in it anyways. 

“Thank you for believing in me.” She murmured as he helped lie her down, analyzing his features to see if he was even slightly disgusted with her grimy exterior dirtying his clean sheets. He didn’t though. He just remained blank in his expression, with just a small tinge of compassion in his silvery gaze.

He wouldn’t accept that gratitude, though, as if he was doing something worthwhile by not torturing her. He knew it in his bones that she was innocent; it was something he could feel, something he could see in her. He would trust her with his own life. And that care she had for the world deserved to be acknowledged. Because it was so goddamn precious.

Precious.

She was precious. 

Gods, he wasn’t sure when he started seeing her like that. Perhaps it was sometime during one of her witty attempts at making him laugh, or maybe it was when he saw her risk her life for even the most unknown soldiers, having a strength that was only matched by a few. Maybe it was when he saw the way she looked right at him, seeing not that unsociable, crude, disciplinarian. Instead, she saw a man. And made no assumptions, but rather let him decide who the rest of him was. 

“Fuck…” He growled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. Tch. To think I’d end up here with her. Annoying little brat.

Of course, even in his mind, he couldn’t conjure up any venom to speak on her name with. There was nothing but his instincts to watch over her until she was strong enough to protect herself, again. Which she would be, he had no doubt. And he respected that about her.

So, he watched as her eyes shut, body relaxing into his bed. Beautiful. Strong. And fucking precious.

#sorry if this is bad #its the first thing i thought of #i love hange btw #and miche #but i thought being violently interrogated by friends would be pretty twisted #kagome higurashi #levi ackerman #aot #inuyasha #crossover #scenario #kagome/levi #levi/kagome #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #hange zoe #miche zacharias #mike zacharias #erwin #female titan #kagome crossover #fic

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Over-protective Avengers, with Rhodey in first line, are blocking Bucky when he want to stay alone with Tony. Ofc Tony isn't aware, and Bucky doesn''t know if he should kill them or be thankful that they care for Tony. Brownie points if Steve is in Rhodey's team.

How to get away with (murder) Tony - Chapter 1 of 2

“Ithought you had that briefing with General Whatshisname like…five minutes ago?”Tony squints at Rhodey from the other side of the dining table.

“Hecan wait,” the Iron Patriot shrugs, sending a meaningful look Bucky’s way.

IfBucky wasn’t so hungry, he would gladly give up his PB&J sandwiches andsmear them all over the Colonel’s smug face.

“Soyou can finish your breakfast? Wow, Rhodey, you’re going all kinds of rebellately. I’m proud,” Tony chuckles, completely unaware of what is reallyhappening here – as usual.

Atfirst, Bucky thought it was just a coincidence. He would come into the roomwith only Tony in it and within seconds someone else would materialize out ofthin air. He’d go down to the workshop for his scheduled arm maintenance andhalf of the team would already be there, even though they rarely venture downthere. He’d read a book instead of watching the movie the team’s picked up towatch and even two hours after the credits roll, Rhodes and Banner wouldn’t movean inch from their spot on the couch where the engineer fell asleep.

Itreally didn’t take a genius to figure out this particular pattern.

TheAvengers refuse to leave him alone with Tony Stark. Banner, Natasha andespecially Rhodes always keep hanging around whenever he could possibly end upalone with the engineer. Not that he necessarily wanted to be left alone withhim – or anyone, at first – but it’s been months since he’s wrestled controlover the Winter Soldier and had been officially declared an Avenger himself.

It’sclearly not enough to warrant him any alone time with Tony.

Dothey really think he would hurt the man?! Why would he? Tony’s been nothing butnice to him since the beginning. He’s helped him a lot throughout his recovery,not just with his arm that’s now more Stark-made than HYDRA, but in general.He’s been a good friend to him. The joking, the laughter, the nonsensicalscience babbling…everything Tony related makes Bucky feel all kinds of funnylately. Hell, even the Winter Soldier likes him. His normally imposing presencewithin his mind gets all…soft when Tony’s around.

AndBucky would love nothing more than to explore all that a little bit further…butfirst, he needs to figure out why is he on the Avengers’ Alone-with-Tony blacklistor he’s getting nowhere.

(read-more ahead) 

“Well,time to go to work,” Tony announces, refilling his coffee cup. “The new WidowBites are coming along nicely. I’m almost afraid to give them to Natasha…she’sscary enough as is.”

“Agreed,”he mumbles, earning a grin from Tony.

“Idon’t think you need to worry. Your arm versus the Widow Bites? My bet’s on thearm.”

Rhodeysnorts. “Widow Bites ain’t what he should be scared of,” he smirks, wigglinghis eyebrows at Bucky.

Yeah,the Widow Bites are nothing compared to Natasha’s savage combat techniques. Shestrikes hard and…aims low. Of all the Avengers – Hulk included – Bucky tries tosteer clear of her the most.

Tonyfrowns at his best friend. “Scared? What do you mean scared? He’s the WinterSoldier, he ain’t scared of nothing.”

Damn straight, the Winter Soldier agrees.He seldom emerges like this; ever since Bucky has control over him, he usuallystays silent, brooding deep within his mind. But he’s taken a certain interestin their current predicament.

“Surething,” Rhodey nods, careful not to sound toosarcastic. “I’ll be sure to tell Natasha how fearless he is.”

Sonof a b –

Just kill him, the Soldier suggests,almost sounding bored.

Buckyrolls his eyes and wonders if the Avengers maybe still have a point. Should heever lose it and snap into the Soldier, he would likely massacre them all –just to get five damn minutes alone with Tony.

We’ve been over this, Soldier. Killingpeople doesn’t solve problems.

It would solve this problem, the Soldier retorts and Bucky’s all out of arguments.

“Youbetter pray I don’t tell her about you stealing her knife from the gym locker,”Tony smirks this time and it’s enough to make Rhodeswiden his eyes.

GoTony.

“Youwouldn’t.”

“Hellyeah I would. Now, are you going to that briefing or what?” he asksimpatiently.

Rhodes glares at Tony first, then at Bucky and finally, he moves to leave.“Wanna share the elevator on the way down?”

SONOF A B –

“Liketwo teenage gossip girls? Of course,” he nods but pauses, glancing at Buckywith a strange look. He clears his throat and follows the Colonel out of thekitchen. “Later, Bucky,” he calls over his shoulder in a hurry and disappearsdown the hallway.

Kill them all, problem solved.

Hegroans, wishing it would be that simple. Not that he’d expect the Soldier tounderstand that killing someone’s friends won’t solve any problems at all. In away, Bucky’s glad – glad that Tony has someone looking out for him. All the time. Now if he could only jointhe protective squad instead of being the one they’re protecting Tony from.

Fine. Don’t kill them. Evade them.

Buckyraises a surprised eyebrow at the suggestion.As in…

Treat it like a mission. Evade theenemies. Get to the target.

Despitehimself, Bucky smiles. And if enemiessurround the target?

Play by your rules, not theirs. Usedistraction. Confuse them.

Right.Yeah! He can actually do that. So maybe the Soldier is on the road to recoveryhimself.

Or just kill them.

“Spoketoo soon,” he whispers, shaking his head, but a battle plan is already beingdrawn in his mind.

4AM is the perfect time. Nobody’s awake at this hour – nobody but Tony, whenhe’s in some kinda inventing frenzy. Bucky spent the past week carefullyobserving the team’s schedule and decided 4 AM is where it’s at. His chance tosneak into the workshop and –

“Ohhey, Bucks!”

Seriously?!

“Whatare you up to?” Steve asks, standing next to him by the elevator in his jogginggear. He never runs before five! What the…

You should have killed this one atleast. I told you.

It’sfine. It’s just Steve. Out of everyone else, Bucky believes Steve’s presencewas coincidental at best at all times. He’s going for a run. There’s no way he’sgoing to Tony-block him.

“Thearm’s bothering me. Thought Tony could take a look at it if he’s workin’.”

Idiot, the Soldier sighs in the background.When did the Soldier expand his vocabulary?

Stevesuddenly looks like a supersoldier caught in headlights. “Tony? In theworkshop? Now?” he blurts out.

“Uh…yeah?He’s been working all sorta hours lately…figured I could try goin’ down thereand - ”

“Yeah!I mean, that’s a great idea!” Steve smiles, but he still looks awkward. “I’lljoin in! He wanted some feedback on my suit upgrade, so might as well scratchthat off my to-do list before breakfast.”

Buckyjust blinks at his supposed best friend and numbly follows him into theelevator. Et tu, Steve?!

Saturdayevening is the perfect time. Bucky observed that after every mission, eachAvenger has their ritual. Clint makes himself an obscenely large bowl ofoatmeal and watches cartoons on Netflix. Steve stays on his floor and doodles.Natasha sharpens her knives. And so on. Tony spends his post-mission time onthe rooftop. Sometimes he lazily munches on various take-out foods, other timeshe just lays sprawled on the sun beds watching clouds or stars. Nobody evergoes there, especially if they were to disturb him. But Bucky is armed with apot of coffee, snacks and hopes it’s enough to grant him passage. Saturdayevening’s where it’s at, because they’ve just returned from a mission and –

“Poptarts! Sweet!” Clint exclaims, stealing the pack of sweets from him and rushingpast him on the staircase to the rooftop…where the rest of the Avengers alreadyare.

“Roofparty time!” Sam yells, excited, also sprinting past him. “There should be apool here, Tony!”

Theengineer, currently setting up an impromptu bar, sends him a glare. “I’ll getyou an inflatable kiddie pool, birdbrain junior, how about that?”

“Greatidea! We can pour Thor’s booze in there!”

Theparty only escalates from there and nobody leaves the roof until early morninghours. So Bucky just drowns in that kiddie pool.

TheShawarma place is the best place to meet Tony alone. Everybody hates it. ButTony is always in a mood for shawarma after he pulls an all-nighter or finishesa project. So the Shawarma place is definitely where – never mind.

“METALHAND BROTHER!” Thor clasps his shoulder, falling in step with him – no, morelike pushing him along. “I too had a sudden longing for the glorious meal thatis shawarma! ONWARDS! A-HAH! BROTHER OF IRON IS HERE AS WELL! SPECTACULAR!”Thor booms.

Withinminutes, the whole team is having a shawarma breakfast platter there.

TheTower’s server room is the most perfect place to meet Tony alone. Throughcareful observation, he is now certain that nobody even knows this place existsand even if they do, the number of DO NOT ENTER and DO NOT TOUCH signs all overthat place is a great deterrent to uninvited guests. That and the forcefieldprotected, bulletproof entrance you need a code to bypass. Or a metal hand. TheTower’s server room is w –

“Pst!The code is 666, if you wanna sneak in,” Clint whispers, head hanging from thevent above the door. He winks and his head ascends back into the vent, themetal grid clinking back to place.

Thisis impossible. Humanly impossible. So what if Thor can maybe kinda teleport,the others most definitely can’t and yet wherever he goes, someone is there.Doesn’t matter if he’s following Tony, or going where he is or could be. Evenif he goes somewhere Tony is most certainly not at, there’s someone else theretoo! It’s like the entire Tower is working against him!

Still don’t want to kill them?

Holdon…now there’s a wild thought.

Finally. Can I do it?

Nowonder the team keeps on materializing wherever he goes. If the Tower isworking against him, then…

I see. But…how do we kill him?

Buckygrins, making even the Soldier retreat in the face of his wrath.

TBC

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #winter soldier #avengers are good AND bad bros #prompts #Lantia #Anonymous

[queennicoleinboots]

Chapter 10 of Completely Out of Sync: Too Many Frustrations of the New Millennium – Not Found in Statham, GA (Joebear POV)

“GET INSIDE!” Blondie Black screamed from inside the house.

Ruby Black, Baby Black, and I ran toward the house as fast as we could to get out of the waterfall that descended from the sky. We could barely see in front of us as the rain water hit the hot ground below us. Gotta love this insane humidity. Mist choked the air.

Baby Black farted again as she ran ahead of me.

“Thank you for farting,” I said as I waved my paw in front of my face to avoid smelling it. “Again.”

Ruby Black started coughing behind me. She and I started laughing before we became trapped in the fart cloud. We were truly soaked before we finally entered the house. The wooden floor was becoming soaked. Baby Black, Ruby Black, and I shook the water out of our fur.

I guess I was stuck there until it was safe to call AAA to jump the battery in that piece of shit Nissan Versa. The worst part was AAA always took forever, and they are going to have a hell of a time finding me on this property. If it weren’t storming like mass hell outside, AAA would have a possible chance of finding me. But, I would rather be safe with these four dogs than to try to escape Statham, GA in this kind of weather. This kind of weather has literally blanketed this area all day, but it was horrible now. I swear that Hurricane Fuck Off was outside banging at the windows of this cottage. There was no way I was going to get my fur muddy by being out in that shit. There was no way Baby and Ruby Black were going to stay out in that weather. There was no way that BearBear and Blondie Black were even going to be able to stay on the ground if they went out there. Those two would be blown away by the wind. So, we were stuck in the cottage being battered by a hellstorm.

I took this moment to call my wife. I missed her.

“BAAAAAEEEEWHUHHHHHHHH!!!!!” she sang to greet me.  

“BaeBae!” I shouted out of excitement.

The dogs barked and howled to greet Xara.

“Oh hello, Blondie!” she shouted. “How are you doing?”

Blondie Black got on my phone and started blurting shit out. “Xara! Oh my God the craziest shit has been happening here! Goofy-looking dumbasses with typical lab coats were here at the house. One of them even looked like a clown posed as a doctor. How the fuck did this guy get this job? It seems that the Veterans Administration would hire anyone who can wipe his ass and not leave a skidmark in his underwear.”

We all fucking burst out laughing. Blondie Black definitely didn’t pull any punches. Ruby Black was rolling on the floor and literally laughing.

“Yeah, that’s typical of the Veterans Administration. Is your family okay?” she asked.

“Uhhhh yeah… about that. They were abducted-” Blondie Black started to say before BearBear Black cut her off by tackling her.

“ARRESTED! THEY WERE ARRESTED BY THE POLICE COMING STRAIGHT FROM THE UNDERGROUND!” BearBear Black shouted at my wife.

“WE GOT IT BAD BECAUSE WE’RE BROWN!” Ruby Black shouted.

Xara couldn’t help but crack up. “Arrested? For what?!” she asked.

“They were arrested for nudity,” I explained to her.

“Really? On their own property?” she asked with a bit of a laugh.

“Yes, it seems she had been indecently exposing herself again... on her own property,” I explained to her as I was actually confused by the logic. “The police really have gone overboard. It’s unreal. There is no privacy anywhere. You don’t own your own property. The banks still charge property taxes every year. The cops run wild on 'your' property. It’s all bullshit. I’ll be honest. I don’t even fully understand what’s going on.”

“Yeah, that’s ridiculous. Are they in prison?! And what happened to Lorraine Black’s phones?!” she asked as she sounded like she was getting irate.

“The Veterans Administration pulled rank and had the phones shut off,” I answered plainly. Baby Black barked in the background to affirm my statement.

“UGH! Fuck the VA! They strip every veteran of his rights!” she shouted.

“There are female veterans out there, ya know!” Blondie Black boldly corrected her.

‘Who the fuck cares?’ I thought.

“Okay. They strip every veteran of his or HER rights,” Xara said. “And don’t get me started on how shitty the healthcare system in the United, or should I say Divided States of America is. For the military nonetheless? Geez. No wonder I deal with sick dumbasses all day. These people don’t give a fuck about Veterans.”

Blondie Black howled to affirm her statement. “Yes, and they have clown doctors! Come on! This bullshit is medieval. I wish we would just evolve already. It’s 2020, and this is the best medical care available in the United States: clown doctors, pills that make us sicker instead of better, and bullshit vitamins that barely cover our essential nutritional needs. I don’t buy that. These people WANT US TO BE SICK AND DUMB!” she shouted with a series of barks.

BearBear Black, Ruby Black, and Baby Black barked like hell in agreement. I agreed with them, too, so I did what any bear would do if he strongly agreed with something: growl like King Bear. I growled so loudly that the cottage shook. I even started laughing hysterically as the cottage shook. I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t handle this world no more.

“Holy Shit!” BearBear Black said as her fur stood on edge as she stared at me with bewildered dark blue eyes.

Xara laughed maniacally. “Not to mention that most doctors are foreign because Americans apparently don’t know shit about the medical field at all. Think about it. When you go to college, most people that major in medicine are fucking foreign. Especially Indian, Spanish, or Asian. In fact, the Indian, Spanish, and I daresay the Chinese language has infiltrated its way into the vernacular here in America. English WAS supposed to be the official language in this country, but nope. Americans are too big of pussies to stick up for their own bullshit language, so they allow every Tom, Dick, and Harry to morph our language into something that not even Einstein can figure out! I wish the United States was united, but it's really not. The states all seem to be doing their own thing when it comes to handling COVID-19. We as a people are politically and religiously divided. The States of America just seem to have a smorgasbord of people who have nothing in common other than the fact that they live in North America. Some aren't even citizens. So yeah, we are more divided," she shouted over the phone. Uh oh. My wife was going on another rant again.

“The doctors don’t give a damn about your health. It’s all about the money,” I said flatly. “The Rothschilds and the Rockafellers have monopolized the insurance companies, and the insurance companies govern the way healthcare is done in this country. It’s an absolute fucking joke!”

The Black dogs all barked and howled in agreement to what I was saying. BearBear Black even farted as she jumped up and down and barked. That dog was pissed off and nothing to fuck with.

“It really is. It’s crazy. Even with home health care, you can work as hard as you can for four fucking years, but if you have a bad month, the coordinators don’t give a fuck. It’s all about money. It’s all about numbers. They don’t give a damn about the employees or the customers. Their mission statement is a fucking lie. By the way, one of their mission points is face-to-face conversations with everyone, but with COVID-19, that’s completely out the window. In other news, thank God I have my own cleaning company. Home health care agencies are absolute total bullshit at this point. And who the fuck wants anyone in their home anyway right now?” she ranted in a shaky voice. She was so pissed that she was starting to malfunction.

“Well, I wasn’t trying to upset you, baby,” I said to try to calm her down. I didn’t like seeing her upset.

The Black dogs were just going to town with the barking and howling. Baby Black got pissed and kicked a table leg. I was getting a headache from all of the noises.

This was one of those moments where I wished I had a juicy steak to share with these dogs. They were probably hungry. I got up to find them something to eat while Xara was just bitching about the status quo, Peter Wallace Parker (who can be a real fucking asshole sometimes), and how she had no coffee. She was hungry, too. She forgot her lunch AGAIN. I wanted to beat her ass for that, but this was not the time to tell her that. There were five angry bitches in my presence, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive.

“I’m fucking hungry!” Baby Black screamed.

“I’m fucking hungry, too. Come to think of it!” Blondie Black said as she was moving in and out of my legs.

“Stop! Lay down!” I screamed at Blondie Black. I was looking for dog food and finally found it in the last kitchen cabinet to the right. The balls of my feet were killing me. Probably from stress.

To tell you the truth, I was hungry, too, but not as hungry as these dogs. BearBear and Blondie Black were literally diving into the bag of food the minute I pulled it out of the cabinet.

“Goddammit! I’m trying to feed you!” I shouted as I scooped out the dog food with my bear hands and threw it at the bitches.

Baby and Ruby Black were eating like crazy. Meanwhile, my wife was still yammering on about something.

“Oh! I forgot my lunch goddammit!” Xara said loudly as she slapped herself on the forehead.

‘Are you serious?’ I thought. ‘Wow, my wife is braindead sometimes!’

“Order a pizza tonight,” I said. “I have no idea when the fuck I’m getting out of here. This storm actually has me locked in here with four hungry female dogs. And I’m hungry!”

“THERE’S HONEY IN THE CABINET SOMEWHERE!” Blondie Black yelled in between her munching in the bag.

“Thank you, Blondie,” I said as I ransacked the cabinets to find the honey. Once I did, I bit into the honey bottle and started eating the honey. Fuck table manners. Only pretentious people use those!

“You are strong, Joebear Campinelli!” Ruby Black said as she laughed a little bit.

Good Lord, this dog was horny. I took a deep breath and tried to resist the power of Ruby Black.

Meanwhile, I heard Peter Wallace Parker scream a blood-curdling scream on the other side of my wife’s phone. I cringed and asked, “Is everything okay, my love?”

“No, baby. Peter is having yet another meltdown. I need to tend to him,” she said.

“Okay, baby. Be careful,” I said. “Love you.”

“LOVE YOU, BOO!!!!” she shouted.

I hung up the phone and decided it was time to give Ruby Black the rub of her life. She was a dog, and dogs deserve to be petted. In fact, I planned to pet ALL of these bitches before the night was out.

“Okay, all done!” Blondie Black exclaimed as she rushed under me and started pawing at my knees.

I lifted Blondie Black and started petting her and kissing her cheeks. She was such a baby. She was whining and making grunts as I was scratching her back.

Ruby Black then came over and started pawing at my knees.

I put Blondie Black down and then kneeled down to pet both of those dogs. They both lied on their backs as I played with them and pet them.

BearBear and Baby Black were still eating while Blondie and Ruby Black were getting tons of affection from my bear paws.

There was a knock at the door. All four dogs rushed to the door and started barking their heads off.

I blinked and thought to myself, ‘What the fresh hell is going on here?’

“Fuck off!” BearBear Black shouted through the door.

“I could if I would, but I have been ordered to be here,” the man at the door said. “I need to speak to the head of household.”

“He’s not here,” Blondie Black said.

“Understood. Who is next in command?” the man at the door asked.

“I am!” BearBear Black shouted. “State your business!”

“Oh bullshit, BearBear! I am next in command,” Baby Black said as she pushed the door open to reveal herself. Her light blue eyes pierced through the clown in the white coat at the door. Her ears were pinned down as she was ready to fuck this guy up.

The other three dogs were baring their teeth at him as they almost pounced on that poor son of a bitch.

“What the fresh hell is going on here?” the clown man asked as he blinked.

Baby Black pounced on him and knocked him on his back against the wooden porch.

“Holy shit. I might faint!” the clown said as he stared fearfully into Baby Black’s blue eyes of death.

“We have the same question for you,” BearBear Black said as she scurried toward his face and started barking.

“I WAS SENT HERE TO DO A CENSUS FOR THE VETERANS ADMINISTRATION! PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!” the clown screamed as tears were going down his eyes.

“Fuck you,” BearBear Black shouted as she barked at him.

“The Veterans Administration is the same reason that I am the head of household AS A DOG!” Baby Black said in a low voice as she growled at him. Her teeth were sharp, and she was nothing to fuck with.

“Yes. What the fresh hell is going on here?” Blondie Black asked as she scurried over to the clown’s face. “How do you not know what’s going on?”

“Honestly, no one tells me anything. I have to come to the houses and confirm everything,” the clown said as he started crying.

“There, there,” Blondie Black said as she nuzzled up against him. “I can imagine that your job is very stressful.”

“It is… it is…,” the clown said as he literally started bawling. “All I wanted to do was provide city data for veterans who want to retire. They worked hard when they were in service. The least we could do is give them data to figure out the best place to live after going through the horrors of war…”

“Well, this place isn’t it,” BearBear Black said as she barked. “This place is a fucking hell hole. DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY TECHNOLOGY ON?!”

I waved my cell phone stupidly at BearBear Black. “You want me to turn this off, correct?” I asked.

“YEAHHHHHHHHHH,” BearBear Black said. “Why the fuck would you have that thing on anyway when the Veterans Administration is here?!”

“Excuse me, Princess,” I said as I turned my cell phone off. “I was in the middle of eating this ice cream.”

“WHO IS THAT MAN?!” the clown asked.

“None of your business!” Ruby Black shouted as she circled around his head. “He does not live here! He is visiting! IS VISITING NOW ILLEGAL BECAUSE OF COVID-19?! DO EVEN DOGS AND BEARS HAVE TO WEAR MASKS NOW?!”

The other three dogs barked in his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to gather data. Are there any humans here?” he asked.

BearBear Black shook her ass and just stared at him like he was a retard. “What kind of a retarded question is that?”

“A retarded question that all Veterans Administration census workers unfortunately have to ask. May I access a pen please? Are those allowed in this non-technological house?” the clown asked as he rolled his eyes. I could tell he was over these four dogs getting in his space.

Baby Black got off of him and sat down in front of him.

The clown sat up and reached his pen and pad.

“TURN OFF YOUR GODDAMN CELLPHONE OR WHATEVER TECHNOLOGICAL DEVICE YOU HAVE!” BearBear Black screamed at him as she was in his face and barking at him.

“All right. All right. Damn you’re insistent, dog woman,” the clown said as he turned his many technological devices off to appease this fucked-up dog.

“Thank you. Now you can start writing,” BearBear Black said.

Baby Black barked a strong bark as she still stared him down with her icy blue eyes.

“Is all of that barking really necessary?” the clown asked as he was writing down some answers to questions that he unfortunately already knew.

“Is that a question on your census?” BearBear Black asked.

“Son of a bitch, I actually have to look,” the clown said as he flipped through this book of questions to find it. A few minutes later, he actually found the damn question. “Actually, yes. It’s on the side questionnaire that’s in Section C for if the poor son of a bitch veteran has a dog.”

“Let me clarify that Diamond Black, Tim Black’s mother, was actually not a bitch at all. She was the sweetest and most intelligent woman of all time,” Blondie Black corrected. “Is that question still on your census?”

The clown scrolled down a couple pages before he looked at Blondie Black straight in the face and said, “Yes. It would have been horrible if you had mistaken Tim Black's mother for his father, ya know. We would have had to go through this process all over again.”

“Thar would have been a real bitch. In that case, we will be more than happy to answer your question. It is always necessary for a dog to bark. It is a form of communication, a way of life, a way of being. Without a bark, who is a dog?” Blondie Black stated.

“That’s beautiful. I wish I had room to put that,” the clown said.

“Do you have a ‘notes’ section?” Blondie Black asked.

“Jesus Christ this is going to take forever,” Ruby Black said as she laid down and sighed.

BearBear Black sat near the clown and looked at the answers he was writing on the questionnaire.

“I do,” the clown said as he went to the very last page and wrote down Blondie Black’s quote about barking. “What is your name, great dog?”

“Blondie Black!” she answered as she puffed out her small blonde chest in pride.

“You are appropriately named,” the clown said as he quoted Blondie Black. “Now to get back to the task at hand, I have to ask this retarded question again, and I expect a retarded answer. Do any humans live at this residence?”

BearBear Black growled at him. “No,” she said.

He wrote down the answer with wide eyes. “Are the people of the house deceased?”

“HOW THE FUCK SHOULD WE KNOW?! YOU WOULD KNOW MORE THAN WE WOULD?!” BearBear Black shouted at him.

Coyotes howled into the evening.

“Do the coyotes live here?” the clown asked.

“Yes, but they literally just moved in. We know nothing about them,” Baby Black answered.

The clown looked frantically through the questionnaire for about five minutes.

Ruby Black sighed and looked into the yard where her dog pen used to be. It was in shambles all over the yard. The storm fucked it up.

“Well, as long as anyone doesn’t live inside the house, I don’t have to question them. Thank God. I wasn’t in the mood to be eaten by coyotes,” the clown said.

“Neither are we. Can we get on with it!?” Baby Black asked.

“Yes ma’am,” the clown said. He then started asking a bunch of questions. The dogs answered them as honestly as they thought they could without the flood gates of hell opening upon their life.

I was literally eating the bag of chips after eating all of the chips before they finally finished answering the questions three hours later. It was dark outside. My wife was worried about me, I’m sure.

The clown then thanked the dogs and disappeared into the night. Apparently, everyone disappears in Statham, GA.

“You can turn your technology back on,” BearBear Black said as she approached me. She walked like a wind-up toy from the 80s.

“Thank you,” I said to BearBear Black as I turned my cell phone on. As soon as the screen loaded, I called my wife again.

[lightshadowverisimilitude]

Chaos and Dancing Stars 2/?

ABO AU - find part one here. Mind the cut.

Five years ago

It was an easy thing to hijack SHIELD’s communication systems. Tony was listening into the transmissions within ten minutes of Agent Coulson dropping a steaming pile of crap in his lap and walking out the door with his PA. He almost crashed their party when he learned that Dr. Banner was on board, but decided that he could scoop Banner up later when they didn’t have nosy SHIELD agents crawling all over. He almost sent them a virus as a welcoming present when he learned that a defrosted Captain America was on board, but Jarvis had distracted him with another of Dr. Foster’s YouTube secretly-recorded-by-me-Darcy-because-someone-else-should-hear-this-and-Dr.-Foster-is-social-network-illiterate-seriously-she-doesn’t-even-know-she’s-internet-famous lectures.

“Sir, I’ve located the target leaving a café in Stuttgart, Germany,” Jarvis reported, pausing the lecture. Tony flicked his fingers to put the video in the background and keyed up the program. Dressed in gloriously well-tailored pants, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows and the first two buttons undone at the throat, Loki looked like a traveling businessman on a break from high-powered meetings. Everywhere except the face – he was sallow and sunken-cheeked. He looked ill and more than a little bit crazy.

“Has SHIELD come across this yet?” Tony asked.

Jarvis was better and faster than anything SHIELD could get their collective thieving hands on, so Tony wasn’t surprised when Jarvis answered, “No, sir.”

“Not a team player,” Tony muttered as he brought up a new screen and neatly hacked into the satellites over Stuttgart. He could have just called Fury directly, or Agent “Phil” how-is-your-girlfriend-the-cellist Coulson, but that would actually require talking to one of them and he didn’t really feel like wasting the time. It was so much faster to just direct the outdated facial recognition software to Loki’s location. He was strolling down the street with a paper cup in one hand, a newspaper under his arm (seriously, was he trying to stick out?), and a tall, sandy haired man on his left. “See? I’m a team player.”

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis agreed wearily. “Shall I prepare the suit?”

“You know me too well, dear. Queue me up some tunes while you’re at it.”

“Anything in particular?”

Tony tugged his tank off and dropped it in the appropriate section of his laundry hamper. “Something with a beat,” he decided. “Something loud.”

(keep reading)

~*~

 His first image of Captain America “live” was of the man on his back. That shouldn’t have been as vindicating as it was, but Tony couldn’t help a smug smirk as he rocketed around Agent Romanov’s jet and came to the rescue of his childhood hero. Knocking Loki off his feet and away from Steve Rogers’ prone form did funny things to his insides, and Tony suppressed a sudden urge to stand over Rogers’ body and growl, “He’s mine.”

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” Tony said under his breath. He wasn’t speaking loud enough to trigger the external mic, so he was saved from having to think about how extremely alpha that was of him. He keyed out the weapons on his spaulders and left forearm, charged his right repulsor and raised his voice to address Loki-the-too-easily-beaten. “Your move, Reindeer Games.”

Loki tilted his chin down and looked up at Tony through his eyelashes. He held his hands up, the bulky golden armor and horned helm fading away in a shimmer of pretty golden light. He looked small and vulnerable on the ground. Frightened.

“Nice try,” Tony said with a snort, recognizing the ploy. Loki wasn’t the first to try the ultra-submissive-protect-me-I-need-you game with him, and Tony was tired of it. Loki’s shoulders relaxed in defeated acknowledgement and he looked away. “Good move.”

Tony’s proximity alarm sounded, rear cameras showing Rogers approaching from his left flank. “Classify as ally,” he said and watched as Jarvis ran a quick diagnostic, storing away Rogers’ specs – uniform, height, weight, stride, the width of his shoulders and hips (nice), retinal scan, the exact shape of his lips and his shoe size. It was an incomplete scan, and the system would need more data to calibrate correctly, but every bit of data he gained about the way Captain America moved would build a profile that would help the targeting system identify him in combat.

“Mr. Stark,” Rogers greeted. His voice was the slightest touch rough.

Save as vocal passcode? The HUD asked in glowing red letters. Rogers’ vocal imprint appeared above Tony’s left eye as valleys and peaks. Tony shuddered – hearing “Mr. Stark” from Captain America made him feel a little sick. “No. Log it for the profile.”

He turned his head slightly. “Captain,” he said in belated response. He put the bristling multitude of weapons away and pretended he was just too focused on the prisoner to make small talk. They waited side-by-side while Romanov landed the jet and exited with the co-pilot to take Loki into custody.

“Wow,” Tony said casually as the co-pilot picked up Loki’s pointy scepter and put it in a box of suspiciously exact dimensions. “Two SHIELD agents and a defrosted soldier from World War II to catch an alien with mind control super powers, and an extremely dangerous energy source that exists in four dimensions. Why did I even bother to show up?” He flipped the faceplate up and the helmet back to give Agent Romanov a bright smile. With no need to pretend to like him, she was free to give him a disgustedly unamused look, and clapped a pair of cuffs on Loki’s compliantly presented wrists without a word.

Tony glanced back at Rogers, and found the man staring hard at the side of his face like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Tony finally turned to look at him, giving him a quick once-over, not sure if he was more amused or impressed by the costume. It looked like something off the old “Captain America’s Playtime” kids’ show that Tony had grown up with, but it was made of all the best materials, experimental fibers that were soaking up and dispersing his scent rather than muffling it. He smelled of musk, exertion, adrenalin, and was surrounded in a cloud of alpha pheromones so strong that they’d been gnawing at the back of Tony’s throat since the moment he’d popped the faceplate. He could feel the tension rising in his shoulders in response, and fought down a growl. If Tony affected Rogers at all, he didn’t show it.

“You look a bit like him,” Rogers said finally.

Tony didn’t have to ask who. “So I’m told,” he said, and turned away before he did something really stupid. Starting a dominance fight with Captain America when they were supposed to be saving the world would not be one of his finer moments.

~*~

Tony was in that hazy almost-sleep slipping toward hibernation when the ping of the elevator brought him to full alert. Before he was even conscious of what he was doing, Tony had thrown one leg over Steve’s hip and rolled fully onto him, arms coming up to shelter his head. He tensed, stretching his neck up so he could see around the couch to the elevator. He should have moved the furniture so they had a safer den, and he hadn’t even brought out any blankets.

His wild self-flagellation was brought to a shrieking halt by Bruce’s startled expression. Freezing at the elevator entrance, he put both of his hands up. Tony realized that he’d started growling, and his growling had started Steve to whimpering, and they were putting out enough pheromones between them to drown a small city.

“Tony…?” Bruce ventured, taking a hesitant step sideways so he could see the couch better.

Tony caught himself hunching over to hide Steve from view and forced himself back. He shook his head, trying to clear the pheromone haze from his thoughts. Biology was such a huge bitch. He cleared his throat and consciously relaxed his grip on the back of Steve’s neck. Freed from Tony’s chest, Steve curved his spine so he could look up at the interloper. Bruce goggled at them with his mouth gaping open like a landed fish.

“Uh… Hm,” he said finally. His lower lip disappeared into his mouth so he could worry at it. “Okay. Hm. Why? Well.” He scratched his temple, and then ran his hand around to the back of his head. “Jarvis said you needed me back here ASAP?”

“Something’s happened to Steve,” Tony explained. His tongue felt big and clumsy, and the words came out syrup-slow. “I’m not sure what. Something. I was trying to…” He waved a hand at the display that was still floating over the couch, and then realized that Bruce would only see it as a horizontal line from his vantage point. Tony twisted his wrist and pushed so the holographic display would be visible. Steve hunched closer to him and reached up to grab his hand. Tony obligingly wrapped it around the back of Steve’s neck.

Bruce squinted at the display for several seconds before he seemed to remember how it worked and then made a grabbing motion and dragged it closer. He took his glasses off and swiped his shirt tail over the lenses before putting them back on. He went through his normal process of shifting his weight around and not being quite sure where to put his hands while he made random hmm noises.

“This is strange,” he decided, peering around the display to where Tony had started petting Steve again. “I’ll need to draw some blood. The atmosensors are good, but…”

“But they’re reading that there’s an omega in the room,” Tony finished for him. True omegas were rare, and on the ABO Scale, Bruce and Clint scored the closest, but they were still O-tendency betas. Tony’s atmosensors were picking up enough O pheromones in the air that there should have been a nearly perfect omega standing right on top of him. Tony hated magic so much.

Watching them carefully, Bruce asked, “Are you going to be okay with me coming over there?”

Tony thought about it. Usually, he would have scoffed at the idea that his biology was going to dictate his reactions to anything, but this weirdness with Steve was throwing him for a serious loop. Maybe Steve wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the magic. Maybe it had grabbed Tony too, sending him into some kind of heightened alpha spiral. The thought of having anyone around Steve set loose prickling discomfort between his shoulder blades. But Bruce wasn’t a threat. If there was anyone he would let close to Steve, it had to be Bruce, who was as close to an omega as Tony had ever met.

“We’ll be fine. Go grab your kit.”

Seemingly unaware or unconcerned about anything going on around him, Steve leaned up to nuzzle Tony’s cheek. He started to purr. Tony stared down at him in shock. He was aware of Bruce’s curious hmm as only distant stimuli. Only true omegas purred. Even if Steve had been magicked to put off omega pheromones, he shouldn’t have been able to purr.

“You better prep for two blood draws,” Tony said thickly. Steve’s purring was making him feel warm and sleepy. Contentment settled deep in his chest and a smile stretched across his face. He ran the back of his hand down Steve’s cheek. If this was some kind of ploy to put them off their game, having a purring omega with super powered pheromones around would do it. Tony couldn’t imagine wanting to be more than a few feet away from him, and he was uncomfortably sure that he would fight anyone with even a little bit of A-ten who came near them.

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce said.

Tony hummed a vague acknowledgement and cuddled closer to Steve. Steve’s purring got louder and he tucked himself back to Tony’s chest, one hand coming up to knead gently at Tony’s hip. Tony felt the first vague stirrings of arousal and shifted uncomfortably while Steve did his damned best to drown out the entire rest of the universe with his purring.

The second time the elevator dinged, Tony barely registered it at all. He’d been reduced to a puddle of jelly against Steve’s warm body. He was aware of it when Bruce approached the couch, and heard him talking, but the words were difficult to make out. Tony noticed Bruce only as a familiar, non-threatening presence, but Steve tensed and poked his head over Tony’s shoulder. His growling turned to a high-pitched snarl of warning.

Shaking off the overwhelming effects of the o-pheromones, Tony shushed him. He petted weakly at the side of Steve’s face and neck, humming in a poor imitation of the omega purr. Steve seemed caught between wanting to relax back down into Tony’s arms and warning off the interloper.

“I’m just trying to help,” Bruce told Steve soothingly. His pheromones radiated calm, inviting Steve to trust him.

Steve’s growling sputtered, interspersed with purring, and then he fell quiet. After the long minutes of the constant thrum of his purr, the room felt disturbingly silent. Tony missed the sound immediately. He continued to pet Steve’s neck as Bruce made slow, careful progress on drawing blood samples. Bruce had to practically climb on top of them to get the right angle for Steve’s arm, and Steve hissed at him when the needle went in. He tried to yank his arm back, but Tony bit his neck until he settled down, though his scent lashed around them like the tail of an annoyed cat. He started to purr again, but it was an angry sound that didn’t have the soothing effect of his previous barrage. Tony bit him harder, and he stopped.

“Thanks,” Bruce murmured, but his voice was colored with embarrassment.

Tony felt his cheeks heating up at the feral display. Even in his wild 20’s, he’d never put on a display like this. Once Bruce had three vials from Steve, he taped a piece of gauze over the tiny wound and tugged at Tony’s wrist until he rolled his shoulder and turned his arm over. Steve made an unhappy huffing sound.

“I’m being as quick as I can,” Bruce told him, as if Steve was in any condition to listen to reason. He missed the vein the first time, apologized softly, and tried again.

Tony locked his legs tightly around Steve’s hips when he shifted like he was going to kick. Bruce pressed down on Tony’s arm just under the puncture site to encourage the vial to fill faster. He retreated with only two vials when Steve had apparently had enough and started snarling again. Even Tony’s teeth on his throat wasn’t enough to get him to stop. Bruce packed up swiftly, but Steve’s irritation didn’t fade until he’d gotten back in the elevator.

Invader successfully repelled, Steve snuggled back into Tony’s arms and went back to happily purring them both into a chemically induced stupor. Tony just barely had the presence of mind to hope they figured out what was wrong quickly.

“Don’t let anyone but Bruce into the living room,” he slurred at Jarvis. He’d had Barnes recalled, and he was a slight A-ten. The last thing anyone needed was Tony getting into a dominance fight with Barnes while Steve was under some kind of magic enchantment.  

“Understood, sir.”

Next

#ladyshadowdrake writes #stony #a/b/o #chaos and dancing stars