#bc this apparently needs to be said i am not trespassing i live on a farm

[guinevereslancelot]

ok i'm gonna go frolick now, if anyone needs me i'll be frolicking

[arrantsnowdrop]

The Hardships of Love - Aragorn x Reader (angst/fluff)

Request: "...the reader is a dunedain ranger like aragorn and they're very good friends. one day they're talking and the topic of love comes up and they're both sorta upset at their luck for falling for elves. the reader reveals she is/was in love with haldir but sorta ran from that romance because it was doomed (due to the difference in races)"

Tags: @subtle-sunrise

Warnings: angst (break ups and sadness as a result), 2,335 words

A/N: The lovely @subtle-sunrise gave me several ideas about how to finish this request, I chose to go the route of the reader and Aragorn bonding/perhaps falling a little in love with each other. You can choose to read this as platonic or romantic, it's deinfitely up to your interpretation. I LOVED THIS REQUEST UGH I would also love to write more Aragorn stuff bc he's hella cool so lemme know if you are interested, otherwise enjoy :)

The Trollshaws had always been a dangerous place, filled with Stone-trolls who came down from the north looking for people to snack on. Luckily, most of them stayed within the confines of the woods, only eating those dumb enough to trespass on their territory.

However, for the past month or so, the Trolls had been venturing out of the woods, terrorizing the many villagers and halflings who lived on the East-West Road. The situation had escalated to the point where several townsfolk got together and asked the Rangers of the North to intervene.

In (Y/n)’s mind, their plea for help was indicative of the severity of the situation; under normal circumstances, most people were too afraid of the Rangers to even mention them in conversation, let alone willingly talk to them.

You’d been sent out from Rivendell with Aragorn to diffuse the situation by whatever means you saw fit. Though you did not want the confrontation to escalate to violence, you knew it was nearly impossible to bargain with a Troll. 

The two of you had ended up fighting a cohort of twenty or so Trolls, killing a few and chasing the rest back into the Trollshaws. You’d returned to the town you’d chased them out of to help dispose of the corpses and offer suggestions on how to deter the Trolls in the future (“Building some fences would not hurt,” you’d said sarcastically, grinning as Aragorn stifled a laugh).

The sun was already beginning to sink beneath the horizon by the time you and Aragorn had begun your trek back to Rivendell. You’d both agreed to travel for an hour or so before setting up camp and getting some much needed sleep; you’d hopefully return to Lord Elrond’s domain sometime tomorrow afternoon.

The ride was almost completely silent, save for the sounds of your horses’ hooves hitting the dirt road and the crickets chirping in the woods around you. You were both extremely tired, and when Aragorn noticed a small patch of moss nestled between a cluster of trees, you’d gladly agreed to stop.

Aragorn was beginning to light a fire in the middle of the small grove, and you were making sure the horses’ reins were tightly secured to a fallen branch. You tossed them both some carrots from a sack you’d brought along with you, then turned back to where Aragorn was piling wood onto a steady orange flame. You grinned, relishing in the warm feeling the fire provided.

“Thank you, Aragorn,” you murmured, sitting down across from him and holding your hands up to the flames. He hummed in reply. It was early fall, and though the cooler air allowed you to fight without producing copious amounts of sweat, it was now too chilly at night for your liking. Aragorn looked up and noticed you shivering slightly.

“Would you like a blanket, (Y/n)?” he asked, gesturing to where your bags sat behind him. You shook your head and Aragorn chuckled, standing up to grab one anyways.

“Aragon, that’s not necessary,” you whined as he rummaged through your bag.

“If you catch a cold, the Elves back in Rivendell will tease you relentlessly for the rest of the week,” he replied as he walked over to you, blanket in hand. “I’m saving you from that rather unlikable fate.”

You laughed, grabbing the blanket and draping it over yourself.

“Thank you for sparing me from certain Elven humiliation, then,” you said, noticing the corners of Aragorn’s mouth tilting upwards into a small smile.

You’d never understood why Aragorn, or Strider as he was more commonly known, had a reputation for being serious and unfriendly. You’d known him since you were a teenager; he’d been your mentor and close companion as you trained to become a Ranger. You were used to seeing him smile and laugh, though it seemed the majority of the common folk thought he was incapable of doing so.

“Would you like some bread?” Aragorn asked, carrying his own bag closer to the fire. You squinted at him in the dim lighting.

“If it’s Lembas bread, I don’t want it,” you replied bluntly. Aragorn chuckled, knowing far too well your hatred for Elven Way bread.

“Luckily, this is sourdough,” he said, grinning as your eyes lit up. “It’s probably stale at this point, but-”

“Throw me a chunk of that,” you interrupted, gesturing to the loaf of bread he had procured from his pack. He ripped off a sizable piece and threw it over the fire, laughing as you caught it in your mouth.

“Elrond would most definitely not approve of that behavior,” he remarked, ripping off a piece of bread for himself and tossing it in his mouth. You rolled your eyes and groaned.

“The other day, he felt the need to lecture me on my dining etiquette,” you said, grimacing at the memory. “Apparently, not knowing the difference between the different sized forks is absolutely disgraceful.”

“Ah yes, the classic salad versus dining fork conversation,” Aragorn grinned. “I myself have received that same lecture on several occasions.” You laughed.

“I’ve always find it funny how when I visit Lothlórien, the Elves only ask about my duties as a Ranger, but in Rivendell, they only comment on my lack of proper manners,” you noted, watching Aragorn simultaneously laugh and choke on his mouthful of bread. He glared at you as you chuckled at him.

"You must never repeat this,” he said seriously, “but the Elves of Rivendell have a reputation for being the most judgemental and fussy in Middle Earth.”

You laughed loudly, nodding in agreement as you popped the last bit of bread in your mouth. It was not very filling, but over the years you’d learned that some food was always much better than none at all.

“Speaking of Lothlórien, how are the Elves there doing?” Aragorn asked, referencing your visit there a few weeks ago. You’d just returned from the other side of the Misty Mountains when Elrond had sent you and Aragorn out to deal with the Troll problem.

“They’re doing well, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn seem to be in good spirits,” you said, a little too softly for Aragorn’s liking. His brows furrowed in concern.

“How about Haldir?” he asked, noticing you shift uncomfortably.

For the last decade or so, you and Haldir had been in an unofficial relationship. The first time you accompanied Elrond to Lothlórien, you’d managed to capture the blonde Elf’s attention. Since then, you spent most of your frequent trips there with him, writing letters to each other between visits.

You had always thought you were unworthy of his affections. He was so wise and thoughtful, his many centuries of life having influenced his placid demeanor. He was also kind, happy to spend much of his time ensuring the safety of his fellow Elves. Meanwhile, you were a hot-tempered Ranger who was known in the West for being a harbinger of danger.

“Haldir is, uh, well he’s good,” you replied, purposefully avoiding Aragorn’s gaze.

What you weren’t telling him was that you’d ended your relationship with Haldir during your last visit. Of course you still cared for him, very deeply as a matter of fact, but that was the exact reason you had decided to take a step back.

“(Y/n)?” Aragorn asked softly. You nodded, still not looking up from the fire flickering in front of you.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to fall down your face.

Silence from Aragorn. You focused on the crackling of the fire, the way the soft orange light danced across the ground. It was a little mesmerizing, and honestly, you were more than happy to be entranced by the lambent flames; it was a welcome distraction from the sadness that had begun to permeate your consciousness.

You snapped out of your daze as soon as you heard Aragorn shuffling from across the fire. You finally looked up, watching as he stood and walked around the fire, sitting down next to you.

“I do not know what troubles your mind,” he murmured, gaze locked on the fire in front of him, “but I know the importance of companionship in sadness, and I’ll gladly offer you comfort if you want it.”

He turned his head, eyes filled with compassion and concern. You felt the tears you’d been trying so hard to contain begin to fall down your face, and you let out a very shaky sob.

Aragorn leaned forward immediately, wrapping you in a strong embrace. You didn’t know how long you spent weeping into his shoulder, him whispering soothing words in your ear as he rubbed your back.

After what seemed like hours, your sobs reduced to small sniffles. You pulled back, exhaling loudly and burying your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said meekly.

“Don’t be,” Aragorn replied, hands moving from your shoulders to your forearms.

“I told him we couldn't be together anymore,” you whispered, focusing on his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin.

“Ah, then it’s my fault you’re crying,” Aragorn said regretfully. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, (Y/n), I truly am.”

“No, no it’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “It’s better this way anyways. I’d rather cry with someone I trust than break down in front of the rest of the Rangers or the Elves.”

“I don’t know if our Elven acquaintances know how to manage the more intense human emotions,” Aragorn chuckled. You grinned, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks with the palms of your hands.

“I just, I couldn't do it anymore,” you said, struggling to find the right words. “I felt guilty every time we were together.”

“Why?” Aragorn asked genuinely.

“Because he’s an Elf,” you groaned, flopping backwards dramatically. Aragorn grinned as you stretched out on the mossy ground.

“Like, he’s basically immortal, but everyone knows Elves can die if they experience really deep loss or sadness,” you said, “and then Haldir told me he loved me, and I just couldn’t help but feel ashamed.”

You sat up and looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I don’t want to be the reason he dies,” you said softly. “I mean, I’m definitely mortal. Hopefully I’ll live a long life and die when I’m old, but with this gig, who knows.” You gestured to your sword, lying behind you on the ground.

“And then he’s just so, so important in Lothlórien, especially now, with Sauron gaining power and all that,” you said softly. “Staying together could result in me unwillingly killing one of their strongest defenders. I couldn’t do that to him, to them.”

“I understand,” Aragorn said softly. “I understand you completely.”

You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. He sighed, looking at the fire next to him.

“I ended things with Arwen for the same reason,” he clarified, grabbing a stray twig and throwing it haphazardly at the flames. You gasped, inching closer to him and setting your hand on his thigh.

“Aragorn, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, easily detecting the pain in his eyes.

“You don’t have to be, I’m fine,” he said, turning to you and giving you a very unconvincing smile. “But I do understand where you’re coming from, it’s hard to let an Elf love you knowing that you could easily cause their demise.”

You nodded, leaning over to rest your head in his lap.

“I’m still sorry, I know how much you care for her,” you murmured. Aragorn rested his hand on your head, mindlessly running his fingers through your knotted hair.

“I think we’ll both recover,” he replied. “Besides, it’s not like she was the only being I loved. There are plenty of people in my life I care for.”

You looked up, blushing when you saw he was looking down at you adoringly.

“Does Elrond know you’ve stopped pursuing his daughter?” you asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Probably,” he replied. “We haven’t talked about it yet. I don’t know whether he’ll be pleased or angry at me.”

“Pleased? Why would he be pleased?”

“He was always upset with me for courting Arwen,” he sighed.

“That’s stupid,” you huffed, causing Aragorn to chuckle. “You’re a great person, Aragorn, Elrond’s standards for Arwen’s suitors are intentionally set impossibly high, that way he’ll never have to part with her.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn said with a small smile.

“No, thank you,” you said.

“Why?”

“For letting me talk about Haldir, I guess,” you clarified. “There aren’t many people who understand what it’s like courting an Elf, and how unworthy they make you feel.”

“Hey,” Aragorn said softly, tilting your head in his lap so you met his gaze . “You are not unworthy of Haldir’s affections, or anyone’s affections for that matter. You’re one of the kindest and bravest people I know, do not be so hard on yourself.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, face flushing at his compliment. “You are also worthy of Arwen’s love, though I know why you feel as if you aren't.”

Aragon nodded thoughtfully, eyes darting to his bag lying on the ground.

“We should get ready to sleep,” he said. You nodded and yawned, suddenly remembering how exhausted you were.

You sat up, wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself as Aragorn grabbed his own worn quilt.

“Is there anything in your bag that you want?” he asked, chuckling as you shook your head and stretched out on the ground.

You smiled as you felt him lie down next to you, sleeping side by side as you’d done so many times before. You turned over so you were facing him and buried your face in the soft fabric of his tunic.

“Good night, Aragorn,” you mumbled, surrendering to your own drowsiness.

You had dozed off before you could feel Aragorn press his lips to your forehead and whisper a good night, draping his arm over your body before falling asleep himself.

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 5]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Hello! Thanks for your patience, those of you who have to deal with my terrible update schedule lol. We’re so close to the end here honestly...I’m really excited for the next chapter lmao I just hope I find time to write it ^^’’ I am taking 20 units this quarter at uni so I apologize for the slowness. My main goal is to finish this up within the month or so, and then my focus can be entirely on Let My Love! So wish me luck, and enjoy this update! <3 

AO3

The more and more Oikawa pestered Kuroo about his 'plan' the less Kuroo was interested. From the get go, he hadn't exactly been enthused about the little siren experiment anyways. Even Kuroo, someone who believed in cryptids and vampires and the like, couldn't fathom his boyfriend being some bloodthirsty creature from the deep.

Still he knew he'd eventually be forced into carrying out the plan, if only to eliminate the possibility. If it could even be called that.

Sirens. When was the last time there had been a siren sighting? A siren experience? Never. Not once in the last hundred years. Kuroo had checked, much to his embarrassment. He'd scrolled through message boards and chat threads for hours, yet the most he could find were a few interesting fanfictions and art depicting mermaid type creatures. All women. All not real.

He was being ridiculous, taking things too far. So what if it was sort of weird how guys crowded Tsukishima?

Kuroo's boyfriend was amazing, and gorgeous. Kuroo got his fair share of confessions himself. He was probably just too new to this whole jealousy thing, too new to the relationship thing altogether. But that was okay. He and Tsukishima were figuring it out, and they were having a great time along the way.

Screw Oikawa and his persistence.

Oikawa was just bored, needed a break from school and wedding planning, and probably thought the whole thing was one big joke. Kuroo thought ignoring him would be simple, and eventually the brunet would grow bored with this idea too, letting it fade into the background.

So far, that hadn't happened yet.

"Hey, so when are we going to do this?"

"Hey, Tsukishima has Tuesday afternoons off right? What about we test him then?"

"If he is a siren, do you think he'll eat us? Do sirens eat people?"

Kuroo's phone was busy with texts and phone calls, all from Oikawa. Even when he put his phone on silent, he felt like he could still feel each notification, lighting up from across the room. So much for studying.

Kuroo planted his face into his textbook as he saw his phone glow on the coffee table in front of him. The apartment remained silent apart from the groan he let loose into the cold air. With finals approaching, the campus communities had gotten quieter, less lively. In the distance, Kuroo could hear dulled music from a party, but otherwise, all was still. The formulas in his book looked tiny and unreadable, his mind too frenzied to really give them the attention they deserved. Not like he really needed to. He'd aced this chapter, as he usually did. He was only reviewing it to stay sharp.

Oikawa was gone this weekend, traveling to Iwaizumi's dorm for once to torture a different roommate, but he obviously had the time to bug the fuck out of Kuroo. Chucking his textbook across the couch, Kuroo snatched up his phone, reading the messages with disinterest.

Oikawa Tooru: Iwa-chan is in

Oikawa Tooru: by in I mean he got tired of telling me no

Oikawa Tooru: this plan is gold Kuroo!! when are we going to test it??

Kuroo snorted as he read through the various complaints which came after. Apparently, Kuroo was afraid of the 'unknown' or something. What the fuck. Kuroo Tetsurou, afraid of the unknown? Afraid of a challenge? He'd once attempted to eat eight saltines in less than a minute, ignoring the chance of choking. In his hubris, he'd nearly passed out from lack of air. Did that sound like someone who was afraid of anything? Not to mention, he'd once dragged the brunet into camping with him for two nights in search of bigfoot when they'd studied abroad in America. The unknown was Kuroo Tetsurou's bitch.

Typing out a series of refusals to Oikawa's demands, Kuroo felt another chill run through him, and he instinctively rolled into a ball on the couch. It'd been cold all night, but he'd been too stubborn to blast the heater, instead choosing to pile on blankets. Now though, nothing seemed good enough. He needed real heat, real comfort.

And there's a surefire way to get it...

Kuroo's eyes twinkled as he glanced up to the ceiling, hearing nothing. Good. That meant Tsukishima's roommate wasn't home. Kuroo hadn't met Bokuto Koutarou quite yet, but from what Tsukishima told him, he sounded like a lot of fun. Fun, but with loud footsteps. Kuroo always knew when Tsukishima was alone as a result. Perfect.

Now, he knew that technically, Tsukishima was busy writing a paper, but well...It had been a few hours since he'd last heard from his boyfriend. The blond deserved a break, and a healthy dose of Kuroo.

Pocketing his phone, Kuroo might as well have skipped onto the balcony, ready to make his climb. Tsukishima would scold him for being so reckless (and yeah okay, maybe he should've just taken the elevator), but the power of love couldn't be stopped. Besides, it was nostalgic now. This was how they'd met.

Kuroo ignored the voice in the back of his head which chose to latch onto more specific details. Right, when you'd climbed up to make him stop his horrid singing, singing which apparently only sounds that way to you. Because you're weird.

Kuroo shook his head, lifting himself with minimal effort until he was standing amongst all of Tsukishima's potted plants. A few looked like they were having a tough time, given the weather, but Tsukishima's meticulous care never wavered. They'd survive the cold.

Kuroo smiled fondly at the various shears and trowels littered about, along with the empty packets of seeds which Kuroo had gifted his boyfriend.

Looking forward, the orange glow of the lights already made him feel warmer. Or maybe it was just the person illuminated by them, Kuroo couldn't tell anymore.

He watched fondly as Tsukishima yawned, his slender fingers stilling in the midst of their furious typing. The blond had an oversized quilt flung around his shoulders, and he wore his designated 'comfy' sweatpants, old food stains and all.

Kuroo felt his heart lurch at the tired lines on his boyfriend's face, the instant need to pull him close overpowering him. Not bothering to knock, Kuroo pulled the sliding glass door open, pleased to find it unlocked.

It wasn't everyday he got the drop on his boyfriend, so he savored the 3.5 seconds of shock which flitted across his face before it turned into something less amused. "I'm writing a paper you know..."

Regardless, Tsukishima shut his computer almost instantly, a clear hint he'd had just about enough of academic jargon and citations.

"Well as you know, it's cold and I need warmth, so I win," Kuroo said, grinning as he plopped himself onto the couch. The old frame creaked under his weight, his body sinking into the cushions which desperately needed vacuuming. He heard Tsukishima scoff above him, and it only made his comfort skyrocket. Kuroo wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, pulling him closer. Tsukishima wasn't exactly a human heater, since the blond suffered from the cold easier than most, but the added heat and softness made Kuroo sigh. They'd had breakfast just that morning together, but it really had been too long.

Tsukishima swallowed a laugh when Kuroo nuzzled his stomach, and Kuroo savored the moment for as long as he could before his self-control gave out, and he looked up. Tsukishima looked a lot more tired up close.

Kuroo blinked up at him, and Tsukishima's brow furrowed. "What?"

Kuroo shrugged, his hand coming up to trace the deep bags underneath his boyfriend's eyes. Tsukishima's chapped lips parted from the suddenness, but he stayed put, watching Kuroo think. The dry skin beneath Kuroo's fingers worried him. He wondered when his boyfriend had actually thought to take a shower or rest. "You study too much, you're gonna faint one of these days if you don't watch it..."

He spoke the truth too. Once Tsukishima sat down and set his mind to some sort of assignment, he didn't stop until it was done. Kuroo had learned this over the past few weeks, mostly because he realized he possessed a unique gift.

He could actually pull Tsukishima away from his work without much of a fight, and he took advantage of it whenever he thought his blond got too close to overdoing it.

Tsukishima laughed, lightly swatting Kuroo's hand away. "I won't."

Kuroo arched a brow, swatting Tsukishima back. He couldn't help but think that even looking near zombie level tired, the blond looked adorable. "How can you be so sure?"

He walked into a trap, he knew it, but it wasn't like he really tried hard to avoid it.

"I have a certain burglar who checks in on me frequently," Tsukishima said, his smile betraying the attempt at a jab. The hands curling gently in Kuroo's hair also served as an unfair distraction, Kuroo's number one weakness. Tsukishima's hands were magic, and the raven leaned into the touch gratefully. "He has no qualms about trespassing, so I'm sure he'll be around to nag me to sleep."

Little shit.

"You're the one who leaves the door unlocked!"

"Yeah, the patio door. The top floor patio door. That's not an invitation," Tsukishima insisted, but his smile hadn't wavered, and Kuroo had done his job. Already, the blond looked way more relaxed than before. The tenseness disappeared from his shoulders, and he'd begun sinking into the cushions of the couch, Kuroo's head in his lap. Perfect conditions.

Subtly, Kuroo pushed Tsukishima's cursed laptop farther away until it was out of sight. Couldn't risk the blond remembering his paper and trying to work on it for another three hours. He had a few days before it'd be due, plenty of time to finish.

Kuroo was set to turn in for the rest of the night, maybe take advantage of Bokuto's absence, but then he saw the expensive headphones which were connected to Tsukishima's laptop, and his mind flooded with the one topic he'd constantly pushed away. Music.

Kuroo's eyes roamed over the coffee table, noting the iPod touch sitting on it. Tsukishima hated carrying his music on his phone, especially due to storage. He had close to a thousand songs on there already, and the number was sure to grow. Kuroo felt something in his brain itch, a horrid scratch he couldn't ignore any longer. Not when it surrounded him.

Tsukishima loved music, loved singing. The evidence was everywhere. From the album posters on the wall, to the fact that whenever Kuroo turned on the small television it was on a music channel, or hooked up to Spotify. Tsukishima owned a record player, a birthday gift, and had his favorite albums pressed onto vinyl. There was a music note keychain hanging from his backpack, he had two pairs of in-ear headphones alongside his expensive ones.

When they were in Kuroo's car, the first thing the blond did was tune the radio to his preferred channel, pointing out when a song was new or when he liked a certain artist. His leg would bounce as he fought not to sing along, and he probably thought Kuroo didn't notice. But Kuroo did. Kuroo noticed everything.

Everyone thought Tsukishima's god given talent was singing, and all evidence lead to that being fairly accurate. No matter who Kuroo talked to, they thought his boyfriend's voice was lovely. So why didn't he?

Why did Tsukishima have to fight other guys off with a stick? Why didn't he indulge himself in his singing, no matter how terrible, around Kuroo? Surely, they were on that level now where he shouldn't care or be embarrassed. Before, the blond had insisted it was a privacy thing, something he preferred to do without an audience, but Kuroo grew less and less sure over time.

"Tetsu, are you alive up there?" Tsukishima said, tapping Kuroo's forehead gently with his index finger. The itch was unbearable now, his mind latching onto the question he so desperately needed the answer to. Tsukishima's soft, loving tone was the last straw. The words delighted his ears, made him melt, and yeah he probably loved Tsukishima if something as simple as his voice could do something like that too him. But then again, maybe his voice wasn't simple in the slightest.

"Sing for me," Kuroo whispered, almost against his will. His breath caught as the last syllable left his mouth, but goddammit, he was sticking with this. Kuroo blinked, watching as Tsukishima's face morphed from calm, to surprised, to something Kuroo could only describe as troubled. He'd never seen that expression before. He didn't like it.

"What...what are you talking about?" Tsukishima fumbled with his words, his hand leaving Kuroo's hair as he crossed his arms. "No way, that's embarrassing."

Something in Kuroo's stomach twisted, a weird foreboding creeping through his veins. Still, he put on an easy grin, a joking tone. "Aw c'mon, I sing all the time while we're in the car..."

Tsukishima didn't crack a smile. "I don't like singing in front of people, I told you already. I can put on some music if--"

"Why not? It's just us, I don't care," Kuroo insisted, and he knew at this point, he was pushing. He had to stop. But that feeling in his heart kept growing, the feeling that Tsukishima was hiding from him. Why? "I wanna hear your voice."

Tsukishima just stared at him, expression unreadable, until his next words trickled out of his mouth cautiously, carefully.

"You hate my singing, and I'm talking to you right now," Tsukishima said with a frustrated sigh. "Isn't that enough?"

"But you love singing, don't you," Kuroo said, more a statement than anything. Tsukishima bit his lip, the chapped skin cracking.

"Love is a strong word," he mumbled, staring at his hands. Kuroo kicked himself, but he couldn't reel himself in. He hadn't realized how upset this had been making him, how confused. He was being a dick now, but--

"You do. So why won't you sing?" He asked, trying to tack on a forced laugh so he could at least try to keep up the lighthearted mood he was pretending to be in.

Something in Tsukishima's expression snapped. The blond glared, one of those cold, icy ones which would stop anyone in their tracks. "Why won't you drop it? I told you I don't want to, I just get shy. Why are you being so insistent about it?"

And like that, Kuroo's stupid drive for the truth shattered into pieces. Tsukishima's eyes were bright with a weird mix of confusion and anger, his words too frenzied for his usually calm nature. It was Kuroo's fault.

What are you doing man?

He sighed loudly, wishing he could bang his head against the wall, but he figured that would solve nothing in the long run.

He'd let himself get carried away, and he knew better. Tsukishima kept looking anywhere but him, and the warmth from before had faded away. Now there was nothing, just a staleness he wanted to escape as soon as he could. He never should've forced anything on Tsukishima, they'd had this conversation before. He respected the blond's choice to not sing, no matter how bizarre it was.

Kuroo cared about Tsukishima, trusted him. Even if he was hiding something, Kuroo had to be careful about solving the mystery. He knew he wouldn't be able to help it, wouldn't be able to stay away. It was just who he was. Curious, determined. But he refused to lose Tsukishima along the way.

Plus, he was a man of science. Things had to be tested to achieve any level of truth.

No more bulldozing. No more hurting his blond, all Kuroo wanted to do was curl up next to him, and rest.

The strained silence between them wasn't what Kuroo wanted, and tentatively, he reached forward, uncrossing Tsukishima's arms gently. He hated when he did that around him, that wasn't how they were supposed to be. Tsukishima let it happen easily, his face softening in a rare show of guilt, and yeah, Kuroo felt twice as shitty.

But he could fix this, for now at least.

Kuroo placed his hand on Tsukishima's knee, not wanting to overstep too soon. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done...whatever that was," he laughed, wincing at the sound a second later. "I was being a dick, alright? I don't care if you sing or not I just...I know you love it so much, I started feeling like you were forcing yourself not to around me. So I got sort of...upset, because I want you to be comfortable and--"

"Tetsurou, I am...comfortable," Tsukishima said, his voice hesitating at the blatant admission. The tops of his cheeks were flushed pink, but the glare still burned Kuroo's skin. Mostly because part of his reasoning was a lie. But he couldn't just come out and say 'sorry, my friend thinks you're a siren, and I'm starting to think so too' could he? He didn't like lying to Tsukishima, but...holy fuck this situation was so weird. If Oikawa was wrong, which he probably was, Kuroo was going to feel like the world's biggest idiot.

"But--"

"I'm more comfortable with you than I've ever felt with anyone, so shut up," Tsukishima insisted, quickly, and all the honesty looked like it was physically hurting him. But Tsukishima was trying, was doing this for Kuroo.

God, I'm the worst.

"And yeah whatever, I like to sing but I just don't like to around people," Tsukishima said with a sigh. Kuroo scolded himself when he had to stop himself from asking why. It wasn't important right then. "It's not just a you thing. My parents, my friends, I hate having an audience, that's all. It's not because I'm not close to you, because..."

And, in an attempt to murder Kuroo on the spot, Tsukishima leaned forward, pecking Kuroo on the lips in the blink of an eye.

"...obviously that's not true," Tsukshima finished, quietly, and he didn't leave Kuroo much of a choice. He leaned forward, seizing Tsukishima's lips again, kisses only broken my muttered apologies and the eventual laughter as the tension faded, forgotten.

In the morning, Kuroo felt refreshed and light, with an underlying current of resolve rushing through his veins. As much as he loved Tsukishima, last night had only confirmed his suspicions. Something bigger was going on, and he had to know.

He left Tsukishima's apartment, happy and as lovesick as ever, kissing the blond goodbye before returning to his own home.

Oikawa must've returned at some point earlier in the morning, because he sat at the table, munching on some toast while he flipped through cake catalogues. When Kuroo walked into the room from the balcony, Oikawa's face twisted in confusion, but Kuroo didn't give him the chance to speak.

"So, what's your plan?"

--

This was not going to fucking work.

"I changed my mind, I wanna go home," Kuroo deadpanned as he watched Oikawa crouch beneath a few bushes. There's a bench ten feet from us...

Iwaizumi looked perhaps even less hopeful than Kuroo did, but his eyes still shone with the slightest fondness as he watched his boyfriend execute his painfully stupid plan. Iwaizumi probably wasn't new to any of the brunet's antics, in fact he probably found them endearing.

Can't relate.

That was just how love worked though, Kuroo guessed. He ignored the guilt that stabbed his chest.

"There's no going back now," Oikawa whispered, making them look more suspicious than need be. Seriously, they could just sit...

The greenhouse sat across the cobblestone path in front of them. They were hidden, but had a fairly good view of anyone coming in and out of the greenhouse. Not like that helped them any, what could they tell just from looking on the outside? This whole plan was amateurish at best.

"How are we supposed to get proof anyways?" Iwaizumi chimed in, his brow furrowed in confusion. The scribbles in Oikawa's notebook had offered no clarity whatsoever. "If he really is a siren, won't I just be hypnotized? Or something..."

Iwaizumi blushed at the fact he was actually hypothesizing. Oikawa's influence always meant trouble for everyone...

"That's why you're going to record everything on your phone!" Oikawa practically vibrated with excitement, and Kuroo liked this idea less and less. "Once we see Tsukishima walk into the greenhouse, you'll turn on your camera and put it in your front pocket!"

Looking down, Iwaizumi indeed noticed the two front pockets on his jacket. He shot an unimpressed look at his boyfriend, and yeah, now he looked how Kuroo felt. "Is this why you made such a fuss about picking out my clothes this morning?"

Oikawa shrugged, his face bright and his smile positively infuriating. "Aw babe, don't say it like that! I also bought that for you, ya know. And look! We're matching!" Oikawa gestured to his navy blue sweater, a nice compliment to the jean jacket and navy sweater Iwaizumi wore, and Kuroo wanted to barf.

"Okay and then what?" Kuroo asked, pushing his hair back in frustration. He hated this idea so far, or maybe he hated the guilt laced behind it. Was he really this desperate? So desperate, he was going to spy on his boyfriend just for some farfetched theory?

He honestly didn't know anymore, the questions bouncing around his head making him sick. This was ridiculous. He should've just asked Tsukishima straight out about the siren thing, no matter how stupid he might sound.

But Kuroo couldn't dwell on his failed communication skills, he couldn't turn back either. Something about seeing Iwaizumi setting up the camera made Kuroo want to see things through. He'd pushed this far already, he'd have to suffer the consequences if he got caught.

"Well duh, Iwaizumi will hear him sing, fall under the spell, and...well...I don't actually know what happens after that," Oikawa said, his face stony from thinking. "Or if it happens like that at all...that's why this'll be interesting!"

You're so sure you'll be right...

What did Oikawa know? Kicking at the dirt, Kuroo scoffed. "Hope so. You're sure comfortable with sending your boyfriend out to be seduced, must be worth it..."

Okay so maybe Kuroo was simply being pissy at this point, but he did feel a great deal of satisfaction from the way Oikawa's hands tightened in the fabric of Iwaizumi's shirt, his face twisted into a grimace. Kuroo hated the thought too, despised the idea of anyone hitting on his blond, fake or not.

He just wanted Oikawa to share some of his frustration, even if only a little. In this situation, being an observer simply didn't feel fair.

Kuroo tried not to remember all the guys he'd seen coming onto Tsukishima, lest he imagine Iwaizumi in their place. Iwaizumi was just lucky Kuroo liked him. Not that Kuroo would get out of that fight scratch free if they weren't friends, since Iwaizumi was fucking ripped, but like hell would Kuroo go down easy.

"It's for...science so it--it's fine," Oikawa hissed, and Iwaizumi's hands immediately covered Oikawa's trembling ones. They always did this weird thing, where it was as if they could communicate without speaking. Iwaizumi would look deep into Oikawa's eyes, and a natural dialogue started, the product of years of built up trust and devotion. It was too intimate for Kuroo to stand for too long, especially with how shitty he felt, so he turned away to let them have their moment.

As Oikawa made sure to make the phone less visible, Kuroo noticed a certain blond enter the greenhouse across the road, and the reality of the situation finally sank in his stomach like a heavy stone.

No going back now.

--

Stepping into the greenhouse had become less of an escape for Tsukishima, and more of an instant relief. As he crossed the threshold onto the soil stained floor, he shut the door lightning fast, his vocal chords practically begging for release of some kind.

The urge left him powerless, the pull inescapable. The strength to resist diminished more with each passing day with Kuroo, every stupid text sent during lectures, every lazy day spent in Tsukishima's bed. Part of it continued to unnerve Tsukishima. How had it gotten like this? But like his resistance against the notes wanting to flow from his soul, the need to care about that also began to lessen drastically. Perhaps Bokuto had been right all along.

A singing siren is a happy siren.

Tsukishima scoffed at his own silly thoughts, focusing on his work. Of course, that didn't stop the music.

It started as humming usually, a slow, melodic buzzing which carried through the large space and eased the tension in his shoulders. Then, as he busied himself with his tasks, it grew louder and louder, eventually turning into lyrics which echoed off the walls. Like a mini concert hall, the acoustics adored Tsukishima's voice, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.

He liked to think it benefited the plants too, or at least, that had been his poor excuse given to Bokuto the other day.

Either way, Tsukishima felt light as air, and his voice only grew in liveliness as he worked.

Well, until something in the air shifted, and a door slammed behind him. His notes halted, cut off unnaturally and falling like shards in the air. It made Tsukishima cringe, the interruption making his skin crawl before he'd even fully registered it.

He really did hate having an audience.

Watering can half full, Tsukishima turned and glared at his unwelcome visitor. He cursed himself for not locking the door behind him, but the thought got cut short by the sheer strangeness of this situation.

This guy...wasn't coming up to him. Yet, Tsukishima could tell he'd been affected. The other's intense grey eyes were wet and dazed, almost empty of all emotion other than the usual lust. No doubt about it, he'd heard Tsukishima sing. Not good. Tsukishima's voice had been a forced to be reckoned with lately. It would take a while for this guy to snap out of it.

He looks familiar...

Something about the spiked hair and tan skin picked at Tsukishima's brain, but he couldn't figure it out. Shaking the thought away, Tsukishima put the can down, walking slowly towards the other. It at least got a reaction.

"Why'd you stop singing? I liked your singing..." The other said, his voice near a sigh. It was the same, annoying dreamy voice which guys always used on him. It was only cute when Kuroo did it. Still, there was no 'you're so pretty' or 'I'll do anything for you' thrown in, which was...different. Usually dudes wouldn't shut up. They'd pester the hell out of Tsukishima, flirting and begging and whatever else they thought would work.

This guy just stood there blinking.

I wonder...

"Yeah I'm sure, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now," Tsukishima said, keeping his voice calm. Anger didn't exactly make the spell break faster.

The stranger's brow furrowed. "But...then I can't hear you sing. I want to hear you sing. I mean it..."

"No, you don't," Tsukishima sighed. "Listen..."

"I'll...do anything..."

Ah, there it was, if not a little more strained than usual. This guy was a fighter. Tsukishima squinted, crossing his arms. "You really don't mean that. You'll only regret it later. Don't you have a girlfriend or something?"

"Boyfriend," the other answered easily. Yeah, that explained it. It was harder to enchant those who were already in love with someone else, though not by much. All Tsukishima would have to do to break that resistance would be singing again with a bit more purpose. Then he could make this poor soul do anything he wanted, fall head over heels for him. Of course, he felt no need to do that. Tsukishima didn't need someone else's boyfriend, he had his own. Plus, now that he did have one, he had to respect the stranger's deep-rooted loyalty. Even under a siren song, he still clung to whatever he could of his partner.

Tsukishima massaged his temples, wondering how it always came to this. All he'd wanted to do was tend to the greenhouse, but no.

"You really do need to leave then. I'm not going to sing for you," he said, frustrated. He just wanted this to be over. "I'm not--"

"Why not? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you--"

"Is it because of the camera?"

Tsukishima froze, his gaze locking on the desperate look in the other's eyes. Something cold ran through Tsukishima's veins, a piercing fear, like fast acting poison. No...

No, he didn't hear right.

Tsukishima throat suddenly felt dry as Bokuto's face flashed in his mind, along with all the other fellow sirens he'd grown up with. His community, his existence. All of it, potentially at risk. It had to be a mistake...

"What camera?" He asked slowly, trying to keep his voice from cracking. All the while his mind raced with questions. How had he been found out? Was he being watched? Were there more people outside? Was Bokuto okay?

"This one," the other said, like it was nothing, pulling out his phone from his coat pocket. Delicately, Tsukishima took it, eyes wide. Sure enough, the camera app was open, recording the whole interaction. "Kuroo and Oikawa wanted to spy on you, since guys are always hitting on you--"

Something in Tsukishima snapped.

Kuroo and Oikawa.

The same chill ran through him again, but it was less fearful now, angrier.

Suddenly, the dots connected themselves. He knew this guy had looked familiar. Iwaizumi Hajime was a name which came up quite a lot in his conversations with Kuroo. This was Oikawa's boyfriend. Tsukishima had seen pictures of him in frames around Kuroo's apartment.

All three of them were working together. How cute.

"What?" He asked, feeling like he could spit venom. The hand around the phone was so tight, he felt he might snap it in half. The anger already started to boil inside him, but he willed himself to stay calm, to wait for an explanation, no matter how upset he already was. "But why..."

"Kuroo was suspicious. But not me, it wasn't me I promise," Iwaizumi pleaded, probably still too far gone and eager to please Tsukishima.

But Tsukishima didn't care anymore. He could only focus on the large grip around his heart, squeezing it until it burst.

With shaking hands, he deleted the video.

--

It didn't take long for Kuroo to realize the plan had failed.

A few pacing fueled minutes had passed since Iwaizumi had gone into the greenhouse, and Kuroo thought the wait would never end. Now though, he began to think it came too quickly.

The door to the greenhouse slammed open, letting out a very pissed off Tsukishima. The blond's eyes scanned the whole area, seething, his eyes ablaze. In his hand sat Iwaizumi's phone. Shit.

Behind Tsukishima, Iwaizumi trailed out slowly, hand on his head and a dazed look on his face.

Kuroo hardly paid him any mind though, his only concern was--

"Hey," Tsukishima hissed, his shoulders shaking as he stomped up to Kuroo's hiding place. Oikawa watched in concern for only a fleeting moment, gaze flashing with guilt and confusion before he ran off to talk with Iwaizumi. Kuroo didn't hold it against him, after all, Kuroo had to deal with this on his own.

A phone flew at his chest, and he just barely caught it. Yeah, he deserved that. He deserved everything he was about to hear. He wouldn't try to defend himself right away. Like a stupid kid, he shrunk in on himself, but kept his eyes on his boyfriend. That was the least he could fucking do.

"Don't bother looking at it, I deleted the video," Tsukishima said, voice a disturbing level of calm. But Kuroo knew better. He heard the shaky breaths and fluctuations. Fuck, he was absolute shit. "What the hell Kuroo? Is this some kind of joke?"

Kuroo would've loved if it had been just that. Then he could play this off as nothing more than a prank. Something told him Tsukishima already knew though, the hurt in his voice said enough. And well, Kuroo wasn't a liar at heart.

"No, I...I'm just an idiot, I let Oikawa convince me to spy on you and--"

Tsukishima laughed, the sound humorless and biting. "So now you're blaming your friends?"

"What? No! No. You're right," Kuroo said, dropping his hands. "It's all my fault, all of it. I'm sorry. I got suspicious and--"

"Suspicious. Suspicious of what exactly?"

Kuroo froze, words caught in his throat. He tried to step forward, because part of him ached to have Tsukishima in his arms despite the mess he'd made, but the blond deliberately stepped away.

Well damn, how did Kuroo come out and say the real reasons behind this? I thought you were a siren because I'm being a delusional bastard, but obviously I was wrong. Yeah, that would go over well with his pissed off boyfriend.

He didn't get a chance to say anything though, much less a new excuse, because Tsukishima had his own ideas in his head, and Kuroo's silence hadn't helped one bit.

"You really thought I would cheat on you so easily huh? I get hit on a few times and suddenly it's my fault, I was just gonna jump at any guy you sent my way?" Tsukishima said, and the emptiness there had Kuroo's blood running cold. Kuroo really had betrayed him, and his tone dripped with the raw emotion. Kuroo never wanted to be the cause of it again.

Space and caution be damned, Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima by the shoulders, panic setting in. "That's not true at all! I promise it's not, this--this isn't what I wanted!"

"Don't touch me!" Tsukishima ignored Kuroo's sputtering protests and started to move away, shaking off Kuroo's grip, and with each step, the distance made Kuroo want to vomit. He didn't want to lose Tsukishima, that's what he'd told himself huh? What a joke.

Kuroo chased after him for only a few steps, uselessly pleading. "Tsukki! Kei, please, you don't understand, let me--"

Tsukishima spun around, and the message came across loud and clear. Fuck. Off. "All I understand is that you don't trust me. But thanks for letting me know." Tsukishima's voice finally cracked on the last syllable, and Kuroo felt his stomach drop.

With that, Tsukishima wretched away completely from Kuroo's reach, storming off and out of Kuroo's sight.

All the while, Kuroo just stood there, feeling the warmth flood out of him.