#they’re trying to give away some really nice looking rope and it was nice of them to offer it to me even tho I don’t need any rn

[observethewalrus]

.

[kaisaerinlover]

alexis ness

tw: yandere themes , kidnapping

alexis ness, before if you heard that name all you would feel is endearment and love, your childhood best friend ness. he was always so sweet, and he still is, kinda? you guess? you’re not really sure. what are you supposed to make of him now? this isn’t the ness you once knew and loved? i mean, was he always like this? the type to tie you up and keep you locked away in his bedroom like a sick version of a disney princess? did you miss the signs? seriously, what the fuck is going on right now?

you and ness grew up alongside each other, childhood best friends. your parents had both joked that you guys would get married, but being kids you never understood that. or you didn’t, only you, because from what he did now you’re sure he always knew the implications of that. you feel betrayed really, how could he do this? you and him spent hours together as children, since his parents were so busy. you remember playing in the streets of hamburg pretending you have magic powers, just being children. you miss those days so much, because whatever is going on now is just messed up, wrong. what changed?

well, now that you think back on it, in highschool guys did avoid you a lot, until ness left. it was weird, but you didn’t think too much of it. was that seriously his doing? did he get guys to stay away from you in some sick act of possession? you’re sick to your stomach. there were so many signs that you missed that he was… like this. is there even a word for this other than deranged or psychotic? you could almost throw up, almost, and the silence in the room whilst ness is out practicing is ironically killing your ears. you almost miss him, almost, because he’s been gone for so long you’re losing your mind. your just tied up sitting on his bed.

as you fidget around with the rope constricting your hands, you find a loose part. yes!!!!! yesyesyesyesyes!!! you scream internally, you begin shaking your wrists a little, trying to free your hands and then the rest of your body. you can feel the binds starting to loosen and they’re almost off. just a little more. almost there almost ther-

he’s back, he pushes open the door to his bedroom. “i’m home engel!!!” he says so characteristically cheerful of him. you’re so… so… you were so close…? how is he so fucking cheerful right now. you’re biting your tears back, blinking rapidly as to not cry, as he just walks over to you and mindlessly starts babbling about his day whilst stroking your hair. what the fuck? this is so unfair. this is so fucking unfair. you were so fucking close.

“…and then kaiser scored, it was soo cool!!! how was your day? did you miss me?” he looks at you dead in the eyes, you used to find his smile cute. now it’s just… unsettling. alexis ness is truly sunshine in a bottle. if the sunshine was crazy. and had eyes that bore right into your very being. and a smile that’s a little too big for your liking. and barely blinked. and- “well? did you?” he’s still looking at you with that humongous smile. jeez it’s uncanny. you gulp nervously and nod your head, not trusting your voice to not shake if you verbalise the (kind of) lie. he laughs at that and comforts you “well i’m here now!!” you’re still tied up, well kind of, the rope is all loose, you might still have a chance of getting away from this sicko.

“do you want me to untie you?” he muses. no? don’t, don’t, he’s going to see that you almost escaped. but if you say no, that would be weird? just try anyway. “uhm- n-no thanks alexis- i don’t mind being all- like- tied- it’s nice i guess?” you give him your fakest smile and bat your eyes, partially to be cute and partially to not cry. he simply just laughs at you, “oh baby you’re too cute! of course i’ll untie you, i’m home now, and you won’t be able to get away. and you didn’t even try to get away. ah, i guess that means you looove me doesn’t it, liebling?” fuck. no. now you even feel a little guilty, he seems so fucking happy. fuck you alexis ness.

as he goes to begin untying you he realises that his ropes are so loose now around your wrists. he freezes, hovering over your shoulder hands on your wrists. it’s scary, he’s not even moving, what the fuck? your heart is going erratic in your chest, it might rip out of the confines of your ribcage and onto alexis’ bed. “you tried to leave me, didn’t you?” he still hasn’t moved. “oh- well- no? w-why would i- i do that?” you try to sound as convincing as you can, but you know it’s fruitless. and you’re fucking scared. as kids, you always pulled stuff like this, when you were first getting into magic. you guys watched an escape artist in the streets and thought it was so cool, how did he get out of those binds? maybe ness will just see it as that and everything will be okay! yes; that’s exactly what’s going to happen, you shouldn’t stress yourself!

his head sinks into your shoulder and you feel him scowl. “how could you try to leave? don’t you like me? don’t you remember all the time we spent together as kids? how come you don’t love me anymore? when we were younger you said you loved me, did you stop loving me? what did i do wrong” he hits you with too many questions at once, and you don’t know what to do. you did say you loved him as kids, and you still do a little, but you miss the ness you thought you knew, this isn’t the alexis you knew and loved. you almost had a crush on him in highschool, almost. but he moved away to focus on soccer more. maybe if he never left, you would be in a normal relationship right now, not this scenario ripped straight out of a 12 year olds wattpad story. you’re not exactly scared of him hurting you, you know he wouldn’t ever do that. but since when did he get so… needy? was he always this insecure? you don’t ponder on it, because you already missed so many signs of him being completely and utterly crazy, you’re just not sure what to do, or say.

“ah- uhm- ness- it’s okay, sorry, i just really needed to go to the bathroom…? so i was- trying to like get untied i guess. sorry” you murmur out. fingers crossed he’ll believe it. he’s still quiet, head resting on your shoulder looking out into the rest of his bedroom. your heart is racing, your blood has probably circulated ten times that of the distance of a normal marathon around your body by now. man, you haven’t wished this since you got here, but can he just talk to you? say something maybe? he would never hurt you, he’s too sweet, but even you’re starting to doubt it now. the lack of communication is terrifying in this moment.

he just looks up after a while and smiles at you. “oh okay, i knew you’d never do that to me anyway! next time i’ll get you an ankle chain, so you can still go to the bathroom, would you prefer that?” he’s still smiling up at you from your shoulder. what is with this guy? how did his mood change so fast? you were sure he was about to rip your throat out just moments before. gosh, how can he say that with such a smile on his face. you just nod in return to his question, and he sits up and kisses you all over your face. “i love you, prinzessin! i’ll get you your chain tomorrow first thing in the morning, hope you won’t mind being tied up a little longer!” all you can do is smile awkwardly at him. yep, you don’t mind at all. definitely not. and as your kidnapper peppers your face with kisses and lets his hands roam all over your body, you can’t help but to wonder, is this really what the rest of your life is going to be looking like? maybe you can just pretend you’re kids again, playing some game, where he’s the wizard and your the locked up princess. just distract yourself from this, it’s sick, he’s sick.

and it’s even sicker when you struggle to know how to feel, since he’s kissing you so sweetly, so innocently. are you scared that you’re going to come to enjoy this arrangement? you should be. because you will eventually.

[thoughtsforsoob]

places in Tokyo that they take you to :)

a/n: idk if y’all can tell but i visited Tokyo, Japan not so long ago and absolutely fell in love with it. it was such a beautiful experience and I hope that if you ever do go, you have fun too. please don’t skip out on it and make time to visit it if you can! this may be a little specific but i know this is self-indulgent. please let me know what you think of it !!!

yeonjun

team planets! i see him liking how artsy and pretty it is. he loves seeing you enjoy the different exhibits and takes so many pictures of you there. he whines when he has to take off his shoes for the water experience part (which is so beautiful btw). he whines because he knows you’re gonna tell him to “put his damn dogs away”. i think his favorite part of the flower room because he loves how you look among all the flowers. Says some corny ass shit like “yeah, they’re pretty but not prettier than you.”

soobin

Tokyo Disneyland! He is a total nerd so he would love this place. He makes you get up super duper early and rewards you with coffee (tullys tho omggg). You guys arrived early enough and are there for rope drop. He even dresses up all nice for the day. He buys the both of you matching character hats. He totally insists on porky and slinky hats (he begs to be porky so you let him). He loves getting on all the ride but his favorite was beauty and the beast. he loves the attention to detail. he even gives you a little kiss while the ending scene is happing and def makes you blush. Don’t even get him started on the parades. He watches every single one of them. Especially the last light show. He holds you close to his side and wraps his jacket around you. The whole moment just feels so sweet and romantic and he lives for it.

beomgyu

harajuku enjoyer for sure. he loves all of the clothing shops, shoe stores and everything else. He for sure goes into all of the stores and tries on a million things and has you give your opinion. Don’t worry, after all of that shopping, he’ll make sure to get you a treat! He’ll fill you both up on Okinawa ice cream, cheesy 10 yen coins and plenty of coffee!! I feel like he’d also take you to music stores. You both comb through the many floors of Tower Records and find your favorite albums. Also..what’s harajuku without a photo booth session :)) he makes you take one of those silly ones that make you look like a doll. Silly gyu

taehyun

sensō-ji! I feel like he really appreciative of older places and places that make for pretty pictures. he def makes you both put on kimonos for the whole experience (don’t be like me and def watch your step when walking in these narrow shops…aka: don’t skip down the stairs 😜) he loves the whole touristy vibe and he hopes you do to. He obviously also stops at all the food stalls and buys you and him treats to try. HE also takes a pretty picture with you in front of the temple…one where he even kisses your cheek. He is in that good of a mood omg. You two also do fortunes at the temple and you both get bad luck :(((( sorry I don’t make the rules

huening kai

snoopy museum for sure. Yeah ik this place is technically in yokohama but like…idc :) anyways, huening gives snoopy lover vibes so he would def love to bring you here. he loves looking at all of memorabilia with you and if you’re a snoopy enthusiast also, he asks you questions and makes comments. he def begs you to take a pic with him by the giant snoopy in the middle of the room. he keeps it in his wallet forever. he also loves the stuffed snoopies so you get matching ones!

[mac-cheez]

My Guide to Surviving the Waynes

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally finished the ending!! Don't expect an update soon I have no idea when the fancy will strike again and the TMA brain rot is real rn.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

---------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I was wrong. SO WRONG. You’d think rich people, especially adopted rich people, would be at least a little sane, but no, they’re not and I have no idea how to deal. It’s only been a couple days since my last entry and so much has happened. So here’s what I’ve learned:

Let’s start with the first incident that happened roughly 10 min after my last entry. I had just finished when Tim offered to meet me in the coffee shop outside of the library (he was picking me up from campus)(Alfred was busy). When I walked in I saw him about to order and walked to the side to wait. He looked at the menu for roughly 0.2 sec before looking the barista dead in the eye saying “I’ll have a Vanilla Cold Brew with seven shots of espresso.”

The barista laughed and joked “Damn you want some cocaine with that?” Then he just said, “Sure that too.” and fucking walked away? He didn’t even give his name he just paid and went straight to the pickup area. The most concerning part of that story is that they fucking did it! And he drank the whole goddamn thing without batting an eye! I was highly concerned for his well-being the entire drive home. (I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne about a rental)

What’s even weirder is when we walked into the manor Dick was just hanging from the chandelier. It was sans rope and more acrobatic, but still concerning considering how tall the ceiling was. I’m still not entirely sure how he got up there, but I just walked away hoping to find my sanity once again.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly with the normal amount of yelling and death threats (still can’t believe this is reality). The next day something actually nice happened while I was off from college and heading to the kitchen for lunch. It was a Friday so most of the house was either at work or school, and it was pretty quiet (thank god). When I walked in one of the others was in there cooking already (Jason I think?). I decided on a sandwich since he was currently using the stove and it was going smoothly till I got to the pickle jar. For whatever reason that thing was tight as hell and was going nowhere. He looked at me and after my fifth try (and many curse words) he held out his hand. I handed the jar to him, and he opened it without trouble.

“I loosened it,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Uh-huh,” he said distractedly. We sat in awkward silence till I noticed one of the books from the library on the counter. It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign Of The Four. I asked if he was reading it and he said yes. I asked him if he’s gotten to the twist yet and he looked at me puzzled.

“You’ve read The Sign Of The Four?”

“Yeah, not my favorite Sherlock Holmes Novel, but still good nonetheless,” I said not paying attention, “Are you reading unabridged or abridged?”

“Unabridged,” he said, “you into the classics?”

“Totally, I love a good Victorian mystery or gothic horror novel,” I replied.

“You?” I asked.

“More of a Jane Austen fan myself, but I can respect those choices,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ve never read her works, but if I have a chance I wouldn’t mind trying,” I said. He looked up at me somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.

“Would you like some recommendations?” He said cautiously. I said sure, and he immediately went into a long speech about Jane Austen and her novels. By the time he was done my sandwich and his ramen were long gone. By the end, I had a list of books to read and a new reading buddy to rant about books to. We’ve hung out intermittently since then, and honestly, it was the sanest thing I did all week. However the sanity didn’t last long.

Many other incidents (too many to write) all culminated in this afternoon, when I finally caved and decided if this was my life, it might as well be documented for (at the very least) the enjoyment of others. It was fairly quiet (first clue) and my morning class had been canceled so I was just sitting in the living room doing some work. Everyone else was out and I was about to leave for my 2:30 class when suddenly someone smashed through the window and a smoke bomb was thrown. I honestly thought it was Tim or Jason being weird again, but then the smoke cleared and there was just a bunch of dudes in Green suits with question marks. They looked around and saw me pretty quickly and immediately pointed whatever weapons they had at me. Eventually, some other ones came in the room and said the house was empty and “Wayne is nowhere to be found.” They started arguing till they finally concluded that if none of the Wayne’s were here, I must be the next best thing. Honestly, I can’t even blame them, and at this point I just let it happen.

They put a bag over my head and put me over the strongest one’s shoulder. I was in a car for about an hour before I was potato sack’d again. Once I was placed down, the bag was taken off my head, and I saw that I was in an abandoned-looking warehouse. I saw some more of the brightly clothed men off to the side arguing, one looking even more ridiculous than the others. The extra ridiculous one finally gave up talking to the others(henchmen maybe?) and walked (more like strutted) over to address me.

“Hello guest of Wayne, may I ask your name?” He asked rhyming for some weird ass reason.

“Vic?”

“Ah yes but what is it’s whole, for a half shall not know?” He said lilting his voice… ‘whimsically’?

“What?”

“Your designation that all might know.”

I just continued looking at him with apparent confusion not knowing what the hell is going on. After a minute he hung his head and spoke normally.

“What is your full name?” He sighed.

“Oh! Victoria Blanc,” I said.

“Ah! And what is your relation to the name of Wayne?” He said trying again with the talking in circles bull.

“Look dude usually I could appreciate….. Whatever it is that's happening, but I’ve had one hell of a week so…….”

“Oh come now it couldn’t have been that bad.” He said dismissively.

“Alright bet! You might wanna sit down this is gonna take a minute.”

Once he sat I started explaining everything that had happened since I’d moved to Gotham. As I was explaining more and more of the “henchmen” started joining the crowd.

“He chased him through the manor with a sword?” Riddler asked (at least that's what one of the others called him).

“Yeah, and apparently this is a normal phenomenon,” I said exasperated.

“And here I thought I was crazy.”

“Oh, no this is probably the most sane thing that's happened to me all week,” I said hand waving (They untied me after a while)(I asked nicely).

I was about to continue when suddenly three figures jumped down and got into fighting positions.

“Let her go Riddler!” Said the one in Black and blue(and maybe a bird?)

“Oh, she was free to leave a while ago.” He said casually to the masked people.

“What?” said the one in red.

“Yeah, we even offered to get her away from that mad house,” said Bob.

“Mad House?”

“Yes, it's almost criminal how they act in that house, you bats should really get on that,” ‘Riddler’ said chidingly. 

I didn't really understand why he called them bats since they all looked bird-themed but I didn't bring it up because honestly, weirder things have happened at this point. They agreed to look into it, albeit very confused(and almost offended), and said they still needed to take me back.

“Fine,” ‘Riddler’ sighed heavily, “ but Vic, sweetie, if you need somewhere safe to stay in Gotham I have plenty of friends who will keep you safe while you finish your degree.”

“Yeah, kinda tempting, but I don't think my parents would like that very much, and they are paying for it so…….”

“Very well, offer stands in perpetuity, to Arkham yes?”

“You're not gonna ask a riddle or…..” said the one in red and black.

“Usually I would but honestly I’m far too concerned right now to care.”

After that, they handcuffed him and the other goons (kinda unfair but i guess they did kidnap me) and walked me out to one of the police cars so I could go back to the manor. They offered to drive me but I've seen enough motorcycle crash scene pictures to put the fear of God (thy name is friction) in me. When I got back Mr. Wayne was in the foyer with Alfred and immediately came over to make sure I was ok.

“Yeah, I'm fine Mr. Wayne, honestly I’m more worried about the class I missed than the kidnapping,” I explained.

He seemed concerned by that but had a phone call right after that he needed to take. Alfred walked me to my room (I think to make sure I wasn't concussed) and I just kinda went back to writing and here we are. Can't wait to see what fresh hell awaits me in the coming week……….. Maybe I should've taken Riddler up on that offer.

[wri0thesley]

Very irritated darling offering to braid Diluc’s hair on a slow morning. They’re needlessly rough with the brush, but Diluc tries to enjoy the company, and he can’t argue that the results look nice

i love the drama of yandere - the kidnapping, the initial raging, the first time you realise what has really happened. but one thing i truly don't think i talk about enough - especially with a yandere like diluc, a 'i will protect you at all costs' man - is the monotony of being the bird in a gilded cage.

days bleeding into one another. another meal from adelinde, another dutiful kiss on the forehead, another carefully worded request for something from your captor. no needles in case you hurt yourself, but how about a book? no pencils in case you stab yourself with them, but what about a jigsaw puzzle? day after day after day, stretching on - and you should be grateful.

dawn winery is beautiful, you are provided for in every way. you are cherished and protected. but day after day, the windows remain shut and the maids pretend you do not exist and your life slips away from you.

(how long have you been here? is that a silver grey hair or a trick of the light? are the trees already shedding autumn leaves? is anybody at home still thinking about you?)

so you take any opportunity to break up the monotony. some darlings give up, perhaps. some throw themselves whole-heartedly into beliving that they love diluc, with desperate conviction. talking themselves into kisses and hoping that with acquiescence comes a loosening of the ropes, a bigger cage.

some spit and scream and never give up, sparring with words, rattling the bars. trying to break a window, hitting out at the maids, watching intently for any moment in which they could slip out of the door-

and you . . . you simply try and occupy yourself.

brush his hair. ask him about his day. ask him to play chess with you. brush his hair. watch him from your window as he trains his falcon. watch him from your window as he gardens. brush his hair.

when you find a few of his hairs, undeniably silver this time (when you know, you know when you first came here his hair was thick and red and shining as blood), caught in the bristles of the silver-backed hairbrush . . . you weep.

[demonadelem]

I’ve had a ctommy for years and we’ve never had any problems until a new neighbour moved in with a cdream. Ever since dream figured out I have a tommy in my house he’s been trying to get in to see him. Tommy, naturally, is absolutely terrified (and honestly I am too ever since I went downstairs one night to get a glass of water one night and I found dream in my kitchen trying to pick up one of my kitchen knives. I trapped him under a bowl). I roped my father into helping me build what’s essentially an impenetrable wooden fortress for him and I’ve taken every precaution I can think of to prevent dream from getting in. Unfortunately, there’s only so much I can do, since I don’t think the landlord would be happy if I tried to do anything too extreme.

I’ve talked to my neighbour, of course, but she doesn’t see anything wrong with what’s going on. To be fair she’s probably pretty neglectful if she’s letting her dream get loose so often. She told me that if I just let the two interact tommy would stop being so nervous. I had to hold myself back from slapping her. Everyone knows you’re not supposed to keep those two together and my tommy in particular has had some bad experiences with a dream.

I’m not giving Tommy up, that wouldn’t be good for either of us. Like I said, my Tommy’s been through some rough times and it took me a long while to get him to trust me and now that he does he’s clingy as hell. He doesn’t trust easily and wouldn’t do well being with someone else, plus it would break his heart to be separated from me. And as for me, Tommy’s helped me through mental illness. We have a really strong bond and neither of us could bear to be separated.

I’m seriously considering moving, but it’s a long process and finding somewhere as nice as this with reasonable rent is near impossible. Plus id be moving away from some very close friends, one of which has a cwilbur and cranboo that tommy enjoys spends time with several times a week, which is on,t a reasonable arrangement since the two of us share an apartment building. I’ve also thought of getting a ctechno (dw i have the resources to look after one) as they’re known to be pretty strong and protective, but I’m worried about introducing the two with my tommy already so distrustful and on edge.

Is there any advice you’d have? This is a fucking awful situation and I just don’t know what to do

All I can give you is the comfort that you're definitely in the right.

Ask game

Part 2 Part 3

[skylarmoon71]

Tadashi Hamada Fanfiction (Big Hiro ) Chapter 4

“Tadashi, what about this one?”

“Oh that goes here.”

He took the tool from your hand, placing it in a drawer. Tadashi stood placing his hand on his hips.

“This place is starting to look like an actual lab.” You joked. Tadashi chuckled.

“Thanks again for helping.” You just brushed it off.

“You always help me ace my exams, it’s the least I can do.”

It was one of the rare days where Tadashi was able to get some cleaning done. You kept nagging him to clear his space to avoid breaking or crashing into items. He’d managed to rope you into assisting. Now after organizing most of his stuff, you took a seat on his couch. Tadashi dropped down right next to you letting out a breath. He sent you a look and you raised a brow.

“Is there something on my face?” You tugged at your hair to inspect.

“Not at all, it's just your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“They're beautiful.”

You flush at the compliment.

“Umm, thank you.” Now you were playing with your hair for a completely different reason.

“I’m really glad I found out about you. I know you didn’t plan for it to happen. But I guess it feels nice to be the only one who knows."

You’re glad he knows too. It wasn’t easy. There were times where you felt like you were living two separate identities. Not everyone would have taken it as well as Tadashi has.

“Don’t go getting a big head.” You tease. He just sends you that smile.

“I’ll try not to.”

The silence settles, and he continues to look at you. It’s starting to make you a little nervous. Your heart has increased significantly to the point that you can hear it thumping in your ears. The best choice is to breathe and let it pass. But when you do, you catch another whiff of Tadashi.

Now you can’t help but ask.

“Hey Tadashi, do you wear some special type of cologne?”

It’s clear that he’s a little puzzled by the question. Your nose is sensitive to a lot of things. Usually you can identify scents from a mile away. But Tadashi’s has always been a mystery to you.

“Not really. Sometimes Aunt Cass would give me brands for my birthday, But I usually just wear it to make her happy. “ He grins.

“I haven’t worn any in a while though.” With how busy he is sometimes, it’s not a surprise.

“Why? Do I smell?”

He sniffs himself and you shake your head.

“You don’t necessarily smell, you just have this distinctive scent. It’s like pine and something else. “ You lean closer, taking a sniff.

“I’m not sure what it is but it’s good.”

There have been a number of times where you’d purposely get closer just to be surrounded by his smell. It was hard to explain.

“Do you sniff me a lot?”

You blush, and he reads you like a map.

“You have!!”

“I-It’s not my fault you smell so good!”

That was not what you’d planned to say.

Tadashi smirks.

“Well anytime you need a whiff just let me know.”

You stand.

“I’m going back to my dorm.”

“Wait, I'm just kidding.” He’s laughing as he follows you to the door and you glare weakly.

“You’re lucky Hamada.”

“I know I am. I’ve got my own personal guardian to look after me.”

He sends you one of those charming smiles and you mentally scowl. He’s so effortlessly cute that it’s kind of annoying. You know that’s just the way he is. Which is both sweet and infuriating.

You need to be more careful around him. He’s starting to pick up on things you’ve tried really hard to hide.

[its-not-a-pen]

Bastard Corner: Maffic Gabbro—the magma tycoon

from: Weekend at Omelas (quick, grab the kid and run!)

Gabbro is a greedy, corrupt, tyrant whose temper is as explosive as his lava mine. He doesn’t give a damn about his workers and treats his staff like objects. His character was loosely inspired by the “corrupt official”贪官 archetype from classic chinese dramas.

Favourite detail: Gabbro is the only one with dialogue in this scene which makes it sound like he’s talking to himself. This reflects his inflated ego, his word is the only one that matters around here, everyone else is literally a non-entity. 

God his POV is SO FUN to write. He’s so cruel and petty, which is very carthartic in it’s own way. Firstly, it holds a mirror up to ourselves. We’ve all said snide, hateful and judgmental things at some point. Sometimes it takes self-recognition in the other to realise “hang on…am I the asshole?” But most importantly, what he doesn’t say is just as important. Gabbro has this way of obfuscating and rationalizing his own misdeeds and it’s kind of fun to read between the lines to find out what he’s actually saying. 

Gabbro takes a genuine liking to undercover Qui-Gon Jinn which goes a long way to humanizing him. I really like this touch because it adds dimension to his character. Evil people don’t think they’re evil, from Gabbro’s perspective he’s just a ruthless businessman with exacting standards. Everyone’s looking out for themselves, afterall, why shouldn’t he try to get rich? 

Just like everyone else, he recognizes and appreciates positive qualities in people. Qui-Gon is humble, intelligent and curious. It makes sense that gabbro, who spends a lot of time surrounded by sycophants, opportunists and nepotism, would really like him.

well well well, if it isn't the consequences of his actions. Gabbro is in a hell of his own making. He holds himself above everyone and feels deeply isolated as a result. he demands total obedience and ruthlessness from his staff and hates them for it. He’s fabulously wealthy but has no friends and a string of failed marriages. Underneath it all he’s kind of just a sad, lonely old man.

(btw Gabbro is a vessel of the narrative, he’s not an analogue to any real person. Actual Billionaires 100% suck. they're not deep they're just greedy)

I really like this role reversal because Gabbro is actually the one who is emotionally honest while Qui-Gon is being manipulative and masking his intentions. It’s a nice little moral grey patch.

Did you notice Qui-Gon never says who he is or why he’s here? He never outright lies, Gabbro just made a bunch of assumptions. 

Lets take a moment to appreciate that this mf just threatened to sue the jedi order.

I try to give my characters a few positive traits to balance their negative ones. For all his faults, Gabbro is NOT a coward. Even when Qui-Gon has him on the ropes, he never backs down or comes close to confessing. 

Just when Gabbro thinks he’s gotten away with it… BAM! The safety inspection comes out of left field and wacks him over the head. I still laugh about it. It’s fucking Kafkaesque. This guy gets away with ILLEGAL ARMS DEALING and gets rekt by…fucking space OSHA. Its like al capone getting away with murder and jailed for tax evasion. Theres only one force more deadly and soulcrushing than the dark side and it is BUREAUCRACY.

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 20 Prompt 4 - Ares

Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout, @grailfish, @forthesanityofsome, and @pied-piper-of-hamlet!

I struggled the whole way to the train, but the fucking Peacekeepers just kept a tight hold of me and threw me into the dining car, slamming the door behind them. I didn’t try to run up to the door and be all dramatic. That would just have made them laugh. So I just glared at the door before I walked more into the car, slumping into a chair. The other tribute was there, getting some food.

Now, he seems like an interesting one. He didn’t seem too surprised about you, my dear.

I huffed and ignored them, instead looking over at him. Asher, possibly? “This sucks, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure does.” He watched me, but his gaze wasn’t horrible or intense. Kind of calm actually. “The Peacekeepers don’t seem to like you very much do they?”

I grabbed some food, not answering right away as Primary continued to say stupid shit in my head. “I was one of them, so I guess I pissed them off. Not to mention I could kill them all in an instant.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “You look young for a Peacekeeper, what made you leave?”

“They’re bastards who wanted to use me.” I stuffed a whole pastry in my mouth, and I had to admit, it was good. I glanced over at him. “What about you? How’d you get roped into this? I kind of zoned out during the reaping.”

He shrugged, poking at some of his food. “Honestly it’s already hard to remember for me too. Guess I’m just unlucky though.” He looked up at me. “What was that all about anyway, the transformation you did back there?”

It was nice to talk to someone who was actually listening. I looked down at my hands. “It’s this magic they gave me. I thought it was to get revenge on someone who caused my district to be destroyed and everyone I love to be killed, but they were lying to me. They want me to be come kind of fucked up vessel for a fucked up god.”

He sat up and leaned forward. “Can you tell me more about this god?”

I grimaced as Primary kept distracting me in my head. “They’re this creepy, perfectly preserved corpse the Capitol found deep underground, and now they’re talking in my head.”

He frowned and stood up, walking over to me. “Do you feel it’s attached to you somehow?”

I frowned and sat up, moving a bit away from him. Too many people hurting me recently. He backed up a little, as I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I know the magic I have is theirs and the Capitol was using my ability to use it as the gauge of whether I could become a good vessel or not.”

He crouched down. “Is it distressing?”

I nodded. “They always talk to me. And they give me nightmares.”

He paused. “Do you want me to try and get rid of it?”

I blinked and really looked at him. He looked serious, not shying away from looking me in the eyes. “You can?”

“Well, I can’t promise anything but I can try.” He smiled. “I’m an exorcist, so if it’s anything like a possession I might be able to help. My name is Asher, by the way.”

I frowned and tilted my head. Was it like a possession? “I’m Ares. Sorry. But yes, please. I want this bastard gone.”

He nodded. “I’ll give it a shot. Does it know I’m going to do this? Or will it be surprised.”

I squeezed my eyes shut to really listen to them, and they laughed at Asher. “They’re laughing at you, so I guess they do.”

“Probably not a good sign…” He sighed.

I also sighed. “Probably not, so if you don’t want to risk it, I understand.”

He shrugged and came closer. “Something else will probably kill me later if this doesn’t so I might as well. Hold still please.” He reached forward, brushing his hand over my chest, around my collarbone until he paused and snatched at something I couldn’t see. And Primary’s voice went quiet. I gasped as he held onto whatever it was tighter, because I could feel the pull from inside of me.

He muttered to himself as he stayed there, and I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath. It was the most boring fight to watch, if it would be called a fight. There seemed to be some kind of horns that looked like an illusion coming from him, and his teeth looked sharper when he talked. But I couldn’t tell what he said.

He started shaking as he leaned in closer, and I gasped as a stab of pain ran through me from my chest, but I still stayed still, not wanting to fuck up whatever he was doing. But he kept getting worse, so I frowned and dared to whisper, “Asher, are you okay?”

He muttered something else and then pulled, and something ripped out of me, and I screamed, curling up on the chair as I felt like I was being burned from the inside out.

When I finally wasn’t blinded by pain, I looked up and saw Asher on the floor, and I scrambled down to kneel next to him. “Are you okay? I’m sorry!”

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glazed over, but he showed me a feeble thumbs up, so I had to trust him. It took a bit longer, but he finally sat up, hunching over and still shaking. “Did I get it all?”

“I can’t feel them.” They had been silent since he had grasped whatever it was. And I tried to activate my magic, and nothing came. I would miss the magic, but it was worth it to get the bastard out of my head. “I don’t have magic anymore! They’re gone!”

“Oh good.” He smiled, laughing a little. “Not sure I could do that again for a while at least.”

Oh fuck. Had that hurt him? I looked away, wilting a bit and fiddling with my jacket. “I’m sorry. Please don’t do that again for me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Hm?” He turned to look at me. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I probably should have warned you that it can sometimes look pretty rough.” He sat up more. “I’ll admit that was…hard, but I’ll be alright.”

Still, I wasn’t worth it. I had done some terrible things. “I’m sorry. But thank you. Primary was terrible.”

He nodded, getting up to sit on the couch. “Yeah, seemed pretty condescending.”

What had they said to him? “They made me dream of them killing me over and over,” I mumbled, slinking back on the chair and grabbing more food.

He leaned far back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling. “You must be pretty tough then, to endure that so long and not give in.”

I pouted. “They’re so fucking greedy. They’ve been alive for thousands of years and they want to cut mine off when I haven’t even experienced two decades? Fucking rude.”

He nodded. “What a bastard.” He sighed. “I’m honestly surprised they didn’t go after me when they had a chance. For some reason it seems they’re dead set on you in particular.”

I sighed. “I heard the Capitol gave a lot of people the magic, and everyone failed at being able to be a vessel except me.”

He frowned. “Strange. Most beings seem to know I should be easy to take a hold of and try to possess me, so it’s odd that a being looking for a mortal body to use didn’t jump on that.” He paused. “Unless they knew better I guess.”

I frowned, looking over at him. That was interesting. “What do you mean, they knew better?”

He shrugged, grinning a bit. “Might have known better than to assume I wouldn’t know how to resist. Hard to tell though.”

I blinked. He was a lot stronger than I had assumed. “How…how would you resist? I don’t know anything about that.”

“There are a few ways to do it, blocking a spirit or demon or being from taking over your body. Sometimes it’s easiest when you’re just starting out to focus on specific body parts instead of everything at once.” He sat up and looked at me. “For example if you’re not able to keep control over everything try and focus on limbs and try and do the opposite of what you will be compelled to do, like if it tries to throw a punch make a point of holding your arm back behind you. Even if it takes over your voice and you say things that should never be said, you can keep control over some other part of you body and minimize the damage you’re in a better place than if not.” He leaned back again. “Of course, it’s easier said than done.”

I blinked. “Wow. That’s cool! They haven’t tried to take control, I don’t know if they can, but that’s good advice.”

“It helps to be confident, which you already seem to be. He closed his eyes. “And if you’re not, lie so they don’t hear it from you that you aren’t.”

I nodded. “I’ve already been talking shit to them, so I’ve got that down.”

He gave a thumbs up, eyes partially closed, and before I could grab some more food, the door to the car opened, and the man who had caught me at the Reaping walked in with a smirk.

He gestured at me. “Ares Machina, please come with me.”

I stood up. “Guess I don’t have a choice.” He just nodded, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed him to the last car of the damn train.

He sat down in a chair, and I followed suit, staring out the windows so I didn’t have to look at him. He laughed a little. “I’m your mentor, so I was hoping to discuss strategy.”

“I don’t intend on hurting anyone, so I’m afraid it won’t be interesting.”

“Don’t you want to survive? You could use your magic to kill everyone in that arena if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to.” I looked over at him and glared. I couldn’t let him know I didn’t have the magic. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He leaned forward, tilting his head. “Why fight them? The Capitol will get rid of your soul eventually.”

“Because I learned to keep fighting from this damn Capitol. Fuck what they want now.”

He laughed a little and closed his eyes. “Then there really isn’t anything I can do to help you in the arena. But I can assure you that they haven’t figured out how to destroy a soul yet. They tried with me and only took away my emotions.” He opened his eyes, and they stared straight into me. “You don’t have the magic anymore, do you?” I stiffened, but he waved me off. “I won’t tell them. If I could feel it, I know I would hate them. If you can at least defy them, then something good has come from all this suffering.”

He stood up and looked me over before taking something out of his pocket. “Here. A token from all the failed vessels. I hope you can defy the Capitol better than we could.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the car, whistling, and I looked down at the token. It was a coin, just a normal-ass coin.

At least until I hit a tiny button on it, and it transformed into a hollow metal dagger. There was a note inside, and I stared at it.

The Godhunter will become the Godkiller soon enough. We worked on this in secret, and it can trap a soul within it. It can even trap a god’s soul. Use it well.

I held the knife tightly and took a deep breath before turning it back into a coin. I would not fail. The whole world depended on me destroying Primary.

[tiptapricot]

Misadventure May Day 7!

Prev

Longest one so far but I think I’m alright w it n I’m rly excited for tomorrowsSS!!

———

7. Plan Of Action

The underside of the beast is worse than its claws. It’s warm and muscled, leathery skin slamming against the two of them as the lasso bobs in the rough air. Rigel’s grip stays firm around Romero as they’re brought up and up at breakneck speed, the thing releasing a chittering whine that rumbles its gut like a bass string, the regular screech trapped behind roped shut teeth.

It doesn’t stay within the city limits this time, it just keeps rising, wings beating hard, illuminated in scarce moments to show a thrashing mass of dark flesh and sinew. They rip through the net dome with a snapping sound, string and sharp wood scraping down against them in bristling carnage.

“Yahh-hoo!” Rigel whoops, craning their neck down to look at Romero. “You havin’ fun?” they ask.

Romero’s fingers tighten against their sternum, curving angrily into the rocky gaps around their neck.

“Ah don’t look at me like that ‘Mero, I know ya trust me!”

He doesn’t, he really doesn’t.

“I’ve got us covered, promise! Now come on and use those nice hands of yours to get us up this rope!”

Romero stares at them hard, and for a moment his light flickers, disbelief and indignance choking out the warmth. And then, because there is nothing else to do, he pushes an arm up pointedly, and begins to pull them along the beast’s underbelly, alternating his grip with Rigel.

Now, Romero doesn’t fancy himself an angry man. He tries to be reasonable, he tries to get things done and get them done straight. He doesn’t like fighting, despite the job field he’s taken on, he just finds it… unpleasant. It gets complicated and messy too fast, makes people do stupid things and hurt people they’d rather not. He knows he’ll stop someday, that he’ll set down the gun, settle down on some nice farm and waste whatever days he’s got left of existence growing tomatoes or lavender, but that’s not happening quite yet. For the moment, this is his job, and he’ll just try to quell that anger and push on through.

He’s absolutely failing at that right now, though.

“So once we get up there, we’re gonna flip topside!” Rigel shouts, like it’s the easiest task in the world.

Romero pauses in the climb, looking at them incredulously again.

Rigel cocks their head, holding Romero a bit tighter as the creature jerks in a different direction to try and shake them off. “It’ll work fine,” they say, “you just tag along now! Follow what I do!”

And Romero does, because he has to, because they are in the fucking sky.

When they finally reach the creature’s jaw, the world is a void of cold air and heated monster, and all that matters is that Rigel’s lasso is still stuck right around the things snout. The knot is digging into its soft gullet, keeping them from falling into whatever abyss lays below.

The creature’s eyes gleam in the light, contracting into thin dots that stutter between them up close.

“Thar she flies!” Rigel yells.

The beast growls again, a vibration that makes them both shiver.

“Now don’t be like that darlin’, we’re here to take you for a ride! You’ve been so courteous with yours, we only gotta return the favor!”

They jut their jaw out slightly, one of those movements that gives a sense of a bright smile that Romero swears he can almost see, before they shift to press their teeth against the side of his head, voice dropping.

“Now hold on tight and don’t let go, even when I lean away. Get ready to grab your pistol, we’re gonna need it.”

And with that they lean back, slipping a hand up to hook in between the beast’s jaw and their lasso. Immediately, Romero digs his arms into the gap of their hips and spine, gripping tightly to the hard, thick, surface. Rigel’s fingers slip past to unhook something from their belt, and Romero readies himself for a free fall, for getting dive bombed by sharp white fangs and the billowing mass of a predator’s body. He readies himself for the action of an idiot, for a companion too lax and impulsive to think twice about process, but he also hopes, with a selfish, burning, spark, that Rigel’s confidence has a basis beyond good aim.

There’s a soft grunt as Rigel moves, a jerk of their body and a muffled screech of pain from the creature, hot breath gusting through tight lips, before blood splatters against Romero’s collar, and all at once he’s being hauled up by Rigel’s hips and over the swell of a hairy neck. He slips around to hold on against their back in the process, jostled out of place, and finds them settling against the base of the creature’s skull. Still gripping tight, Romero watches Rigel lean forward to wrench a knife from the bat’s snout, looping the lasso around its ears like a makeshift headstall.

“Yaaah-hoo!” they cry, voice rising triumphantly over the wind.

The creature thrashes, diving suddenly and twisting to try and shake them off. Rigel keeps the two of them pulled snug against its neck, forearm wrapped up in their lasso.

“Figured we can’t very well fight this thing down there!” they shout back to Romero. “Not when it’s got half a dozen things to bulldoze through and we got no space to move, so thought instead we’d wrestle it down like a ragin’ bronco!”

They’re jerked heavily to the side as the creature bucks mid-air, and Rigel whoops loudly again.

“Now get that pistol o’ yours out and shoot it in the ear! We’re gonna throw it off balance!”

Romero leans around them quickly and does just that, the beast flinching and rearing up immediately as his hand recoils, pulling the gun back gleaming. And it makes sense. It fucking makes sense and it’s worked so far against anything that should’ve, and for the moment he feels ready to carry this stupid goddamned idea to fruition, whatever next step Rigel has planned.

But… they make no move afterwards. They just sit straight and proud and keep the two of them secured as the bat becomes more and more erratic beneath them, and Romero’s hope sinks.

He jostles them roughly with the arm looped around their waist, throwing his free hand up when they crane back to look at him as if to say “Now what?!”

“Don’t worry,” Rigel yells, an ecstatic brightness filling their voice, “this is where he comes in!”

———

Next

(ID in ALT)

[rytlock-trombone]

Diphylia, Iphirrys, and Allyntu are having fun swimming, playing volleyball, and building sandcastles!! Allyntu also goes looking for pretty rocks and shells to give to her girlfriend Willowyd <3

Ghealeade, Aneidhe, Willowyd, and Niantel spend most of their time at the beach getting some much-needed relaxation in the sunlight. They do join the others in the water and on the volleyball court, but mostly they’re reading, chatting, and napping.

Tesorai, Bluira, and Diarglach are kinda lost at first. They don’t really know what people do at a beach and probably didn’t even want to be there in the first place. Tesorai is pulled into a volleyball game, and once she learns the ropes, she’s actually really good at it. Bluira and Diarglach eventually join their friends relaxing and reading.

Willowyd’s bratty fern hound, Salix, is disgusted by all this sand and seawater and the obnoxious seagulls everywhere. He curls up in Willowyd’s lap while she reads and chases away the seagulls pestering the two of them.

Willowyd’s pet bristleback, Felix, wants to play with the seagulls!! He’s having a great time chasing them around, playing fetch with Willowyd, and running around in the waves.

Willowyd’s pet wyvern, Electrocutie, has to be kept away from seagulls at all costs, or she will eat them and traumatize everyone even more than they already have been. She has a nice time playing fetch.

Aneidhe feels bad for the seagulls who keep trying to steal their food, but Willowyd assures her that the seagulls are probably very well fed and it’s for the best that her pets are keeping them at bay.

Everyone was disgusted by Willowyd and Allyntu ogling each other in their swimsuits. Diphylia threw a potato chip at them, which was promptly snatched up by a seagull.

Pipioko fell asleep and Meirlach covered her in sand.

Meirlach and Niantel wore the sexiest, revealing-est black swimsuits they could possibly find and turned a lot of heads. Diarglach went with a modest maillot, plain blue without any patterns or frills. Diphylia and Allyntu wore colorful patterned swim trunks and rash guards. Iphirrys wore a leopard print bikini. Willowyd chose a dainty white or dark green one-piece with a skirt. Aneidhe wore plain swim trunks and a rash guard. Pipioko wore a simple black one-piece that would have been a little boring on anyone else, but looked fantastic on her. Tesorai wore a black bikini top and matching swim shorts. Bluira didn’t bring a bathing suit and just wore a tank top and shorts because she really didn’t want to be at the beach at all.

what would your ocs do at the beach? Would they nap and read books? Would they stay in the waters and never getting out? Who would play with sands or collect seashells?

[juicegremlin]

Hugs (5+1)

~ 3 ~

Their last game of the season is in two days. Neil has been buzzing with energy for a week straight, watching old Trojan matches, roping Dan and Kevin into countless extra strategy meetings. Not that they mind, of course—if Neil is nervous, they’re downright apoplectic.

Andrew is… there. There to keep Neil grounded, to help him burn off any excess excitement. And it’s nice, to be needed. To be wanted.

Andrew thinks he can admit that.

They’re at practice, and Neil is practically bouncing off the walls. Andrew’s eyes track him across the court, enjoying the give and flex of his calf muscles in those shorts. Neil intercepts one of Kevin’s passes and sends it hurtling into the corner of Renee’s goal.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He shouts, whirling on Kevin. “That’s eleven, get ready to pay up.”

Kevin makes an affronted noise. “Ten, that was ten!”

“Which one of us is the applied mathematics major? It’s eleven.”

Kevin shoots a look back at Andrew, calls across the court. “Ten or eleven?”

Eleven.

“What makes you think I was paying attention?” Andrew counters.

“Andrew, I swear to—”

Wymack bangs on the plexiglass with a fist. “For Christ’s sake, it’s eleven, Day. Learn to count.”

Neil grins at Kevin, wide and toothy through the grate of his helmet. “Just one more. Hey, Matt, what’s the most expensive restaurant you can think of?”

Matt considers the question. “Does it have to be good?”

“Of course not.”

“Alberto’s, then.”

“Excellent choice.”

The game resumes, and Kevin is even pissier than before. He sends shot after shot Andrew’s way, but Andrew denies them all.

There’s some pleasure to be derived, he supposes, from defending his post. An exercise in power, in control. Neil would try to spin it into some sort of metaphor, but it’s not like Andrew would ever present it to him in the first place. Bee, though—Bee might have something to say about it.

But he’s not enjoying himself. He isn’t.

Five minutes pass; no one scores a single goal. Wymack has to break up a brief scuffle between Aaron and Jack, but nothing too major. Andrew rebounds a shot at Jack’s ankle as a reminder to keep his distance.

Neil is electric. He’s zipping back and forth across the court, all power and precision, and that fucking ass—

Andrew grits his teeth.

Neil stops just long enough to catch him looking. A bright, devilish smile splits his lips. Andrew barely catches the glint in his eye before clocking the ball headed directly for his own face.

Andrew manages to side-step, but his answering blow is almost an accident, imbued with far more force than it requires. It sends the ball cracking away from him, over every single head on the court. Andrew watches in a borderline daze as it sails and sails and sails—

—right into the top left corner of Renee’s goal.

Everyone stops. Heads turn in Andrew’s direction, and it’s a cascade—like something out of a bad horror movie. Dan barely stops her own racquet from clattering to the court floor.

Andrew blinks at himself. So rarely is he ever genuinely surprised, but that—that had not been intentional. He doesn’t think it was, anyway, and it’s never—has that ever happened before? To anyone? He’s certainly never managed it. Did he really just do that?

Evidently so, because in the next second, the court erupts into raucous noise. Nicky screeches, Allison breathes a quietly vehement “what the fuck” from where she stands near Andrew’s goal. Kevin’s jaw drops far enough for his mouthguard to fall straight out.

“Did you just see that?” he demands, of no one in particular. “Did I just see that?”

And Neil—Neil is just standing there, racquet gripped loosely in the fingers of his right hand. Andrew can see how wide his eyes are from yards away, wild pinpricks of blue in the middle of his face.

Then he’s moving—moving towards Andrew, and with purpose, tugging off his helmet. He presses it into Aaron’s chest as he passes and Aaron is so dumbfounded that he doesn’t even protest.

“Andrew,” Neil calls, all pink and sweaty and breathing and hot. “Andrew, yes or no?”

Yes or no? To fucking what?

“Yes,” Andrew blurts, because it doesn’t really matter. Neil could ask to kill him right now and Andrew would die sated.

Neil picks up the pace and Andrew just barely manages to get his own helmet off before they’re crashing into each other and Neil’s arms are locked around his waist.

It is nothing like Andrew has ever felt before. If Neil was electric a few minutes ago, then this is completing the circuit—forcing Andrew into his orbit and shouting all his nerves awake.

It should feel bad. It should feel like choking, but it doesn’t. Andrew feels warm and alive and held and impressive.

Something is breaking.

Something is breaking, but for the first time ever, it doesn’t hurt.

Then Neil is lifting, and Andrew’s heels pick up off the ground. His first thought is jesus fucking christ but he doesn’t say no, just grips tighter to Neil’s shoulders because he doesn’t think he wants this to ever stop.

“Holy shit, Drew,” Neil shouts, the sound like a million tiny fighter jets in Andrew’s ear. “That was incredible!”

Andrew makes an unhappy noise, and it is the biggest lie in the history of ever.

“I didn’t think—oh my god, you really just did that. Do you know how fucking nuts that is? Andrew, you’re so good, I can’t believe—”

The rest of Neil’s praise coagulates and finds itself a home behind Andrew’s ribs, pulsing against his heart and making it beat that much faster. Neil lets Andrew down—lets him be tethered to the earth again—and Andrew can’t say he isn’t relieved. He can’t say he is, either.

Neil pulls away just enough to look Andrew in the eye. There’s sweat on his nose, on the bow of his lip. Andrew can’t help but take his thumb and swipe it off.

“Andrew!”

It’s Kevin. He comes up to Andrew’s goal, helmetless and interrupting. Andrew bristles and he’s sure Neil can feel it.

“Can you do that again?” Kevin exclaims. “Andrew, you have to do that again, you—”

“Fuck off, Kevin,” Neil snaps, letting his arms fall away from Andrew’s waist. Andrew damned-near mourns the loss of contact.

“Neil, did you see that?” Kevin gestures widely and vaguely across the court. “That was—could you imagine—”

Neil holds up a hand. “That’s twelve. You owe us dinner.”

Kevin’s jaw hangs slack again. His eyes flit from Neil to Andrew like he expects Andrew to do something about it, but Andrew doesn’t so much as shrug.

By the time Kevin goes catatonic enough to leave, Andrew has more or less come back to himself. He still feels the ghost of Neil’s fingers over his ribs, pressing. Holding.

“Was that okay?” Neil asks, turning back to him.

Andrew doesn’t let anything show on his face. “Was what okay?”

“The—that, jackass. I should have… was it too much?”

Neil’s excitement colors with apprehension, and no, no, no, that won’t do—Andrew can’t let him look like that right now.

“I said yes,” Andrew tells him. “I meant it.”

And Neil’s already flushed, but Andrew can tell when a deeper red arrives to pinch beneath Neil’s freckles.

“I’m going to—” Neil waves a hand. “Anyway.”

He gives Andrew’s hand a squeeze before turning on his heel. He only makes it two steps, then he’s doubling back, taking Andrew’s hand again and leaning in close.

“You are incredible,” he says.

A kiss to Andrew’s nose—his fucking nose.

Neil takes off for the other end of the court, leaving utter destruction in his wake.

-

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | +1

Good morning, I’m fucking tired. Take this.

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.  

[neverasfarawayasitmayseemxo]

It’s Like Fate

I can’t stop writing stories about this man! This is a story where you meet Austin at the premiere. Please enjoy! 🤗 (I don’t really care for the title but oh well, I didn’t know what to name it lol)

“Wow, this is crazy!” your friend Penelope squeals.

You nod, unable to speak as you look around at the chaos before you. Your friend dragged you to the premiere of Elvis. You weren’t necessarily a huge Elvis fan but you did like some of his songs. Penelope loved celebrities and all things pop culture. Back in 2008, she was first in line at the premiere for Twilight because of her obsession with Robert Pattinson. Her persistence got her a nice picture with him AND Taylor Lautner at that premiere. Tonight, Penelope was very excited to meet Tom Hanks, he was her favorite actor after all.

The premiere was pretty wild. The red carpet was rolled out and there was a mass amount of fans lining both sides.

“Thank god we are right against this rope” she said looking down and grabbing it to steady herself.

“I can’t believe how crazy this is! All for a movie” you say and shake your head in disbelief.

Penelope looks at you, eyes wide.

“This isn’t just any movie, [Y/N]. This is ELVIS. This will for sure be Oscar nominated. Plus, the guy who plays Elvis is so damn cute” she explains. She stands on her tip toes and looks around.

“Where are they?!” she asks.

You look and watch the other fans holding up their phones and merchandise to be signed. You liked celebrities but you weren’t obsessed with them like Penelope was. They were just normal people. They did normal things. What was the big hype?

Suddenly, screams erupted and people started to push you.

“Oh my god!!!!!!! They’re here!!!!!!!“ Penelope jumps up and down excitedly.

You look over and watch as the cast gets out of the black stretch limousine.

The first one to get out was a very VERY attractive man. You’ve never seen a boy with such perfect hair in your life.

“Who the hell is that?“ you ask, unable to take your eyes off of him. He wore a black button down shirt exposing a lot of chest. His silky black pants complimented his black boots.

“That’s Austin Butler. Oh my god, I can’t even look at him” she cries. “He plays Elvis! AUSTIN!!!!!!”

You watch as he makes his way down the carpet posing for pictures with fans and grabbing their black sharpies to sign posters and tshirts.

“There’s Tom Hanks!!!!!!!! I need a picture!!!!! TOM HANKS!!!!!” she screams, waving her hands frantically.

You look over at her and laugh. She was absolutely crazy but you loved her for it.

“Hey there”

You look up and your mouth drops. It was Austin Butler. He was standing right in front of you.

“Hi” you say with a smile.

He had beautiful blue eyes, as blue as the sky on a cloudless summer day.

“Thank you for coming” he smiles.

“Oh….uh….of course” you say.

“Oh my god….TOM!!!!!!!” Penelope screams right in your ear.

You and Austin both look at her and laugh.

“Big fan?” he asks.

You nod.

“Austin, keep it moving” a woman with slick black hair says. Maybe it was his publicist?

Everyone was screaming his name, throwing their hands in the air, reaching to try and touch him but he wouldn’t move.

The “maybe” publicist started to push him forward but he stopped and held out his hand to you.

You look down and grab it. You could hardly breathe. What was he doing?

“What’s your name?“ he asks.

“[Y/N]” you say loudly so he could hear over the screaming fans.

He squeezed your hand. “[Y/N]” he repeats as he gives you a once over with his eyes. “I’ll remember that”

His publicist pushed him down to greet more fans.

“Did. That. Just. Happen?” Penelope paused after each word she said.

You were taken aback. You couldn’t believe it either.

“I don’t know….pinch me” you say, jokingly.

Penelope squeezes your arm.

“Ow!” you squeak, grabbing your arm to rub away the pain.

“Hey! You told me to!” she says. “Oh my god….TOM!!!!!!” she yells, erratically, trying to get his attention.

You turned back towards the carpet and sigh. Austin Butler wanted to know your name. Maybe going to this premiere wasn’t so bad after all.

~

“I’m so happy I got a free poster!” Penelope says as you find your way to your seats in the movie theater.

It was packed full of people. Thankfully, Penelope ordered tickets way in advance so you were both able to get seats.

You look down at the poster you were given and run your fingers along Austin’s chin.

“You like him, don’t you?”

You look up and Penelope crosses her arm and gives a cheeky smile.

“What? No, what? He’s a celebrity. He’s whatever” you say and roll up the poster.

“Admit it, [Y/N]. You think he’s soooooo cute and you totally want him” she sings.

You shake your head. Sometimes Penelope was so immature.

“Yeah, yeah. For sure” you say, just to get her to shut up.

Suddenly, everyone in their seats began to scream.

You both look down and see Baz Luhrman, Austin Butler and Tom Hanks walk infront of the giant screen.

“TOM!!!!!!!” Penelope squeals again.

But you are just fixated on Austin. Jesus Christ, he was so hot. You couldn’t stop looking at every part of him. His hair. His height. His chest. His eyes. Everything was mesmerizing to you

“Thank you all so much for coming to the premiere of Elvis! We hope you enjoy the show!” Baz says into a microphone.

You watch as Austin’s eyes search the crowd.

“We couldn’t be more pleased with how this movie came to be. We had a lot of hard working people create this masterpiece.” Baz continued.

Austin’s eyes continued to look into the crowd. For some crazy reason, you felt like he was looking for you. You shook the crazy thought from your brain.

“We couldn’t have done it without our amazing Elvis” Baz exclaimed. The theater erupted with applause.

Austin took the mic and smiled.

“Thank you so much. It means the world to me” he says. Suddenly, Austin’s eyes are on you.

“I….uh…I’m excited to share this with you all. I’m not sure what else to say other than thank you for coming out tonight. For taking the time out of your busy day to come here and see this movie. It truly warms my heart” he says, as if you were the only girl in the room.

Austin hands the mic to Tom and he says his thanks. You look away shyly and then back up again but Austin was still looking at you.

“Dude. He’s STARING at you!” Penelope whispers into your ear.

You nod without breaking his gaze.

“He is…isn’t he?” you say.

He winks.

At that moment, the lights go off and the room begins to applaud.

You strain to see where he goes in the dark. You watch as he, Tom and Baz are whisked off out of the theater.

“Gahhhh, I’m so excited!!!!!” Penelope says.

“Me too” you say, biting your lip. You weren’t sure what you were really excited for, the movie about to begin or the fact that Austin Butler couldn’t stop looking at you.

~

The movie ended and the applause erupted again.

“That was absolutely spectacular” Penelope says as you both exit the theater.

“It was really good” you say. The entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about Austin. Watching him on the screen made you like him more and more.

“Tom Hanks was brilliant!” Penelope brags. You laugh and nod.

“Austin was….perfect” you say quietly.

“You loooooooove him” Penelope sings and dances around you. “Oh my god. Imagine if you date him!?”

You shake your head.

“Oh stop it. He’d never date me. I’m not even famous. I’m nobody” you explain to her. He wouldn’t date you, you thought. This was just some crazy thing where he just looked at you and that was it. It didn’t mean anything. This would all pass and nothing would come of it.

“Excuse me”

You and Penelope turn around to come face to face with the same lady with the slick black hair that was pushing Austin on the carpet before.

“Is your name…” the lady trails off as she looks down at the clipboard in her hand.

“[Y/N]?” she finishes.

Your stomach starts to flip as if you were on a rollercoaster going 100mph.

“Um…” you start to say.

“Yes, this is [Y/N]!” Penelope says enthusiastically. She grabs my arm and shakes me a bit.

The lady looks at me.

“Hmmm…white off the shoulder jumpsuit…” she says looking back down at her clipboard. “Yes, it seems you’re [Y/N]”

You nod and she could tell you were a little confused.

“Austin sent me out here to find you. He wanted to come out himself but I refused, considering…well, he’s a huge star and we don’t need any more fans bombarding him” she explains.

You nod once again.

“So, this is for you” she says and rips a piece of paper off of her board and hands it to you.

You look down at it and read what it says.

There’s something about you…Please attend the premiere party at my house tomorrow at 8pm. Here’s my address…you can bring your friend.

Xo , A

“Oh my god…..we are invited to a party!!!!!!” Penelope squeals, jumping up and down.

“Please” the lady says with an eye roll. “Do not lose that paper. We don’t need Austin’s address all over town”

You nod. “I won’t, I promise”

The lady smiles, “See you tomorrow girls”

She turns on her feet and walks away.

You look at Penelope and her mouth is wide open.

“I can’t believe we are invited to Austin Butler’s house!!!!!!!!!” she whispered. “It must be LOVE at first sight!!!”

You look down at the piece of paper again. You felt your heart flutter with excitement.

“It looks like we are going to have to go shopping tomorrow” you say with a grin.

Penelope squeals and grabs your hand. You both walk out of the theater and into the cool summer night.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

[archerincombat]

some things are meant to be secret (and not to be heard)

“Are you serious right now?” Ravi accuses. “I—come on, man. You two are divorced. Or at least exes. Probably divorced though—with Christopher and all. Anyway, you two are getting remarried? Congrats! That’s so awesome.”

Buck blinks. “Are you trying to hypnotize us?”

“Is it working?”

or, ravi fic (coda edition)

11k | read on ao3

Regrettably, Ravi’s first thought isn’t of Buck (bestie?) or Eddie (widowed???) but how he’s even going to begin to explain it to Marcus, who Ravi thinks runs a fan blog for the 118.

He isn’t certain on the latter, even though the other day Marcus asked Ravi for Bobby’s chili recipe and then never actually made the chili, he keeps his phone brightness irresponsibly low and closes his laptop less than inconspicuously whenever someone enters the room, trying to start small talk that Ravi and Avi see right through—since they’ve been friends with him for ages.

Sebastian doesn’t get it, but he’s nice enough to nod his head and allow Avi and Ravi to stash the whiteboard of theories underneath his bed. You know, the one he only sleeps in when Ravi’s on shift? Yeah. Ravi tries not to be the perfect imitation of the :D emoticon whenever he thinks about it. Which has proven to be extremely difficult, since he’s always thinking about it.

“Are you serious right now?” Buck asks, hair distinctly mussed and hand distinctly resting on Eddie’s thigh, and it’s, listen, Ravi’s not going to judge his superiors, especially when they’ve clearly worked so hard (no that isn’t an innuendo. Ravi’s proud of them, okay?) to get to this very moment: making out in the bunk room, but he has to wonder, just a little bit, if Buck and Eddie are extremely good at playing the long con.

“Are you serious right now?” Ravi accuses. “I—come on, man. You two are divorced. Or at least exes. Probably divorced though—with Christopher and all. Anyway, you two are getting remarried? Congrats! That’s so awesome.”

Buck blinks. “Are you trying to hypnotize us?”

“Is it working?”

Eddie nods. “You know what?” he says to Buck. “I kinda see where he’s coming from.”

Ravi turns to him. Eddie’s never…they still don’t really speak much, even after he came up to Ravi in the locker room and asked all those questions that Ravi’s pretty sure was some kind of allegory but he was never too great at English in the first place so maybe that’s putting too much weight on it and it’s really just a metaphor or a simile or something that’s less determining than an allegory. You know 1984 with its allegories. Anyway, Ravi isn’t saying that he’s the reason they got back together, but there are wheels in his head, and boy are they turning.

Then Buck frowns at him. The wheels unturn.

“Just don’t, like, tell anyone about it, okay?” he asks, with an uncertain glance at Eddie. “No offense, but I’d rather that they didn’t hear it through the 118 grapevine.”

“Well have you tried not making out in the bunk room?”

Buck pinches the bridge of his nose. Eddie gives Ravi a small, apologetics smile and then Buck a huge, unabashed grin like, God, I’m so in love with him. And Ravi thinks this is worse, actually, because the cute handholding and shit is working and now he’ll never be able to milk the fact that he was the reason they got together because Eddie will turn those giant cow eyes at Buck and inevitably Ravi will get roped into babysitting on date night and then he’ll have to introduce Christopher to Avi which, what the fuck, or something else just as harrowing because Ravi works at the 118 and life’s a fucking nightmare or whatever John Mulaney said and—

Maybe this is overcorrecting, but Ravi thinks he wants Buck and Eddie to be divorced again, actually. At least when they’re in front of him.

But he puts his hands up in surrender, because really, the only people Ravi’s interested in telling live with him and stay far enough away from the 118 that it shouldn’t be an issue. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promises, trying not to grin. “I swear.”

“You look like you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!” He protests. “This is just my face, Buck. And anyway, how do I know you’re not lying? How many couples who were divorced get back together anyway? What are the statistics on that?”

Eddie stands up, finally. Ravi gets the impression—or well, not the impression, because once he and Buck spent an entire week arguing about what the best Pokemon DS game is (there’s only one right answer and it’s Pokemon Platinum) which wasn’t so bad until Buck said his favorite starter was Totodile (“It’s an alligator. It’s not misunderstood, Buck.”). Anyway, he gets the feeling—the premonition, even—that if Eddie wasn’t here, they would be pulling up a government website of divorcement statistics before Buck remembers that they’re not actually divorced.

And Ravi knows that too. But to be fair, Buck did chase after him with a chainsaw. This is like…reparations or something. Yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s right. Buck probably has some British blood in him. It’s only fair.

“We should probably go before Cap calls us for dinner,” Eddie says meaningfully. He runs a hand through his hair, but he’s blushing so obviously that it doesn’t look suave at all, which is a great thing for the citizens of Los Angeles’s ego. Not Ravi’s, of course, but other people.

Buck makes the universal sign for, I’m keeping my eyes on you, and jumps up after Eddie, bumping their shoulders together, which is cute but means that his eyes are very clearly not on Ravi and he—

Ravi pulls out his cell phone and dials Marcus’s number. He picks up on the second ring. “You’re not going to fucking believe this.”

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