#this miscommunication was not my fault in the slightest and i KNOW that

[apple-os]

ppl who like making friends solely with one-note cardboard boxes who will hang out with them when it's convenient and never open up about who they are as people and what their lives are like dni

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝﹕it’s salty in the middle of those sweet moments.

SUMMARY! for reasons unknown to him, you seem to absolutely hate lee anton. on several occasions, he’s tried to hate you right back, but found that it can be difficult to dislike someone when you’re completely infatuated with them.

PAIRING! lee anton x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, swim team!au idk what to call it actually but anton and reader are both captains, fluff, angst (kinda), (one-sided) enemies to lovers WC 6.6k

WARNING! swearing, reader is mean to anton for a while, miscommunication, i have no knowledge of swimming as a sport and had to do a lot of research for this one so sorry if this contains some inaccuracies, not proofread

NOTE! when anon requested this i jumped out of my seat bc rivals to lovers with anton was my very first wip on this acc but i scrapped it and this gave me an excuse to write abt it again

anton thinks the world of you while you think nothing of him. he’s unsure of how someone he thinks of so highly could hate him so much, and he’s even more unsure of how he could still be so enamored by you despite knowing that you feel the exact opposite way about him.

he gave up on trying to understand the root of your hatred towards him long ago.

at first, he assumed that you were just jealous of the fact that the boy’s swim team had a bigger budget than the girl’s. this wasn’t anton’s fault by any means, but he thought that you might’ve been taking your anger out on him due to his position as team captain. the school administration seemed to simply favor the boy’s swim team over yours, and even anton knew that it wasn’t fair. the favoritism meant that anton’s team received better funding, which inevitably meant better… everything.

anton vividly remembers the glare that you’re always giving him only growing in intensity the day he and his team stepped into the pool area wearing their brand new goggles and swim trunks. he recalls the way the other girls on your team looked down at their own worn out swimsuits upon seeing anton’s team’s new attire, and he felt terrible. if it were up to him, he would’ve entered the room wearing the same faded blue swim jammers he and his teammates were forced to wear at the start of the semester if it meant you’d stop looking at him with such disdain in your eyes.

if this had been the reason behind your distaste for the boy, he would’ve understood. but the hatred you held for him extended beyond swimming, too.

“your hair looks stupid like that,” he hears you mutter from behind him. he turns around, an indifferent expression adorning his features to mask his nervousness.

the fact that you still manage to get the boy’s heart racing and his palms sweating despite your cruel words is baffling to him.

anton’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, wanting to retaliate but not having the slightest idea what to say. “my hair looks like this everyday,” is all he can pathetically exhale.

you’re still staring at him with a furrowed brow and he stares back at you, perplexed. he wonders if you have anything else to say to him or if you were insulting his hair for the pure fun of it. he thinks he’d be fine with either, because at least you’re talking to him.

he feels like slapping himself in the forehead at his own lovesickness.

after a few moments of silence, you scoff, signaling with your hand that you want him to move out of your way.

wordlessly, anton obliges, stepping aside and watching as you continue on your way to whatever class you have next. he notices merely seconds afterwards that the hallway he’s currently standing in isn’t narrow in the slightest, meaning you could’ve easily gone around him and still insisted on making him move. he wishes he could dislike you— he really does.

anton turns around to find sohee and seunghan now leaning against the wall, having observed the entire interaction between you and their love-struck friend. sohee looks at him pitifully while seunghan claps, slowly and sarcastically.

“don’t,” is all anton says to them, hanging his head. he knows that they’d like to drill another lesson into his mind about how he needs to stop letting you push him around like that, and he’s not in the mood for it.

“anton, my man,” seunghan sighs, putting an arm around his shoulders. “i get that you like her, i really do, and that she’s pretty and all,” he feels anton’s shoulders momentarily tense at his words, “but i don’t think she’s into you. like, at all.”

anton shrugs the older boy’s arm off, shaking his head. “i don’t like her,” he lies through gritted teeth. sohee and seunghan share an unamused look.

in actuality, the two of them were there to witness anton fall for you firsthand. when their younger friend first saw you and two of your friends walking through the quad area of campus, they watched the way his eyes widened and the way the oxygen left his lungs. they recall thinking that anton’s heart would burst out of his chest and fall right onto the grass below the three of them. his friends were in disbelief that anton was currently standing in front of them and denying his feelings for you when they quite literally saw him develop said feelings in real time.

when anton found out that you were captain of the girl’s swim team, it only solidified the way he felt about you. being captain of the boy’s swim team himself, he thought it was the perfect setup. he was too shy to nonchalantly walk up to you and initiate conversation, but he had the notion that swimming would make good enough of an excuse.

his hopes of becoming acquainted with you through your shared interest in the sport were crushed almost immediately. when he first tried to strike up a conversation with you, you sent him a scowl that intimidated him into walking the other way. on a separate occasion, he attempted to talk to you again, only for you to turn your head and pretend that you hadn’t heard him. he hasn’t tried to initiate anything ever since, the only time the two of you ever interact being whenever you glare at him or make a remark about him in passing.

he never found out what your problem was when it came to him, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

anton sees sohee and seunghan’s solemn faces and scoffs. “i’m serious, guys!” he complains, “you’ve seen the way she acts towards me. why would i like somebody like that? that’s like setting myself up for failure.” his chest tightens as the words leave his mouth. he only said that so his friends would drop the subject, but he knows that there’s truth behind his statement. the two boys only exhale disappointedly.

sohee purses his lips. “if she didn’t absolutely hate you for no reason, you guys would probably look good together,” he comments. seunghan nods, “too bad she’s got a stick up her ass.”

for whatever reason, anton wants to defend you and tell his friend that there is no stick up your ass— you’re only hostile when it comes to him. he realizes how pitiful that sentence would sound to sohee and seunghan and decides against saying it out loud.

“stop being hung up on that girl, anton,” sohee chimes, putting a hand on his friend’s arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. you would know all about that, right? since you’re a swimmer and all.”

seunghan hits sohee in the arm jokingly. “he’s on the swim team, not a fucking merman.”

“he’s so cute, are you kidding me?” you hear rei practically squeal as you step into the locker room. she and jiwon are both already wearing their swimsuits, and the latter looks up upon hearing you enter the room.

“who are we talking about?” you smile, setting down your backpack. it’s late in the afternoon and you’re relieved to be done with your classes for the day, finally able to do what you love most.

“um,” jiwon begins, “no one in particular. right, rei?” your friend sounds a bit on edge as she turns to the girl sitting on the bench beside her, who shrugs. “we’re talking about anton,” she replies, earning a slap on the arm from jiwon. “ow! what the hell?”

jiwon watches as you halt your process of taking off your shirt, about to change into your swimsuit. she knew that your mood would turn sour at the mention of the boy; it’s a known fact amongst the members of your team that you hate lee anton.

“you think anton is cute?” you turn to rei, frowning. the girl lets out a huff of air, her bangs moving in the process. “i don’t see how you don’t,” she mutters, “and i don’t get why you hate his guts either. he’s super nice.”

you continue changing, the two girls looking away from you as you do so out of respect. “you wouldn’t understand,” is all you say in response. jiwon bites her lip, feeling bad for the boy. she’s seen it all— the fleeting, longing glances anton sends your way, and the scornful looks you send him in return. she doesn’t comment on it, not wanting to upset you, but a minuscule, intrusive part of her desperately wants to know what’s going on between you and the captain of the boy’s team.

rei, however, seems to know no boundaries. “would you be mad if i dated him, then?” she chortles, giddily kicking her legs. not facing you, she doesn’t see the way you grow tense at her question. you open your mouth to respond when a knock at the locker room door startles the three of you.

the door opens a fraction and you turn to see yujin pop her head inside. “are you guys almost ready?” she asks, scanning the room before her eyes land on you. “oh, hey, captain,” she smiles, eyes forming crescents. you wave, and the older girl continues. “coach wanted me to remind you guys that we have a joint training session today,” she clenches her teeth for a second, eyes moving to jiwon and rei who are wearing matching nervous expressions at the reminder. “you know, with the boys team,” yujin finishes, not daring to look you in the eye in fear of how you might react.

as captain of the team, you were curious as to why your coach would want to remind you of that, seeing as you were often the first person to obtain this information. upon deeper thought, you realize it was probably because even your coach knew about your hatred towards anton and wanted you to stay focused this time around rather than glaring at him every few minutes. you almost let out a laugh at the thought.

“you hear that, captain?” rei teases, “prepare yourself! don’t let anton distract you this time.”

you throw a towel in her direction, earning a grunt from her. “i should be telling you that,” you scold, “seeing as you’re obsessed with him all of a sudden.”

rei laughs, and you’re unsure of how to feel when you come to the realization that she didn’t disagree with your statement.

once you finally leave the locker room, you come face to face with your sworn enemy himself.

anton doesn’t look in your direction for as long as he normally does, memories of your interaction from earlier in the day flooding his mind. no matter how small of a gesture it is, your teammates take notice of it. “he’s not staring at you today,” gaeul whispers, shocked.

you only shake your head. “like i care,” you spit, crossing your arms, “i prefer it that way, actually. he should focus on his own team.”

wonyoung puts her hands on your shoulders from behind, lightly shaking you. “loosen up, okay?” she advises, her own eyes drifting over to anton’s team. as if on cue, anton looks over at you for a moment, watching as you joke around with your teammate. he wishes that you were even half as nice to him as you are to your team, wondering what it would be like to laugh with you the same way wonyoung is right now.

noticing anton’s preoccupied state, one of his teammates calls out to him. “captain!” anton turns his head away from you, looking his teammate in the eye. “yeah, taesan? you need something?” he inquires, getting back into his leader headspace. taesan looks over anton’s shoulder at your team, making the inference that he had been distracted by you. like always, taesan thinks to himself.

“do some stretches with me, yeah?” he says, wanting anton to fully dedicate himself to practicing instead of letting you pose as an obstacle.

anton is a good team captain— any of his teammates can attest. but it feels like anytime you’re in his presence, he’s only able to give 80% as opposed to his usual hundred, the other 20% being spent completely fixated on you.

he walks over to his dark haired teammate with a nod, agreeing to help him warm up. he thinks it serves as a more productive way to pass time than staring at you like a lovesick idiot.

“i was thinking,” taesan starts, copying the way anton does shoulder stretches to loosen his joints, “well, me and leehan were talking about it, actually. we should do a bonfire later, at the beach,” he tells the older boy.

anton licks his lips, nodding absentmindedly. “just you and leehan?” he asks, looking around the room for the boy in question. he sees leehan standing in the corner looking disinterested and waves him over. with an inaudible sigh, leehan reluctantly joins the two boys who are now doing tricep stretches. taesan shakes his head in response to the question anton had posed, “no, i meant, like, the whole team,” he corrects. “tell him, leehan,” taesan nudges his teammate.

“i hate stretching,” leehan murmurs, gaze aimed towards the white tiles beneath him. “about the bonfire, dumbass,” taesan deadpans. leehan perks up at the mention of something that he actually cares about. “oh, yeah! we’re gonna invite the whole team,” he grins, “it’ll be a blast, anton. you’ve gotta go.”

anton thinks it over, biting the inside of his cheek. “it’s already kind of late though, no?” he points out, causing the two boys on either side of him to groan. “bonfires are literally supposed to happen at night,” taesan comments at the same time leehan says, “don’t be such a buzzkill.”

“is the girls team invited?” anton can’t stop himself from asking, earning more groans from the two boys. “i don’t want to go through the trouble of inviting them,” leehan complains. “yeah,” his friend nods, “plus, he’s only asking because he wants their captain to be there.”

taesan’s comment makes anton come to a halt, and he’s now the only one out of the three of them no longer stretching. “that’s not true,” he defends himself, “i just feel kind of bad. i mean, we already have a bigger budget than them, and stuff.”

“keep telling yourself that, champ,” leehan grumbles. “we see right through you.” anton steps forward, looking at both of them simultaneously. “guys, seriously,” he says lowly, “i feel bad.”

taesan lets out a laugh, “right, you feel bad that you won’t be able to make heart eyes at y/n tonight.”

anton rubs his palm across his face, frustrated. “here’s an offer for you. you either invite the girls team, or…” he pauses, attempting to appear intimidating, “you’re not allowed to have the bonfire at all.”

the two boys scoff in unison. “you can’t just do that,” taesan snorts, “you’re our captain, not our mom.” anton scratches his head at that, disorientated. “look, i— okay,” he tries again, “i don’t know. i’ll buy you guys food, or something.”

it’s now taesan and leehan’s turn freeze in their places. “why didn’t you start with that?”

practice ends faster than you wish it had and you hoist your bag over your shoulder. you turn to jiwon and rei, about to ask if they’re ready to leave when you’re interrupted by two loud voices. “girls! hey!” you turn your head to see two members of the boys swim team— who’s names you never bothered to learn— running up to you and your friends.

“hey,” one of them pants, “don’t leave yet.” you look at your friends once more, studying their expressions that look just as confused as yours. “anton wanted— ouch!” the boy is interrupted by his friend slapping him on the arm harshly, as if he had said something wrong. “all of us, i mean, wanted to know if you girls would like to join us tonight,” the boy finishes, rubbing his arm while sending a subtle glare in his friend’s direction.

“join you.. in doing what, exactly?” you inquire, serious as ever. the two boys seemingly grow smaller under your intimidating gaze as if they hadn’t anticipated your somber attitude. “we’re doing a bonfire,” the other boy replies, pointing his thumb in the direction of the rest of his team. you look over the boy’s shoulder, your eyes landing upon anton, who is already looking at you. upon seeing your eyes scan over him, he looks away.

rei claps her hands together a few times, “we’ll be there! thank you for inviting us.” her words startle you and you open your mouth to protest. you had just been seconds away from telling the boys in front of you that you weren’t interested.

“yeah, count us in!” jiwon chimes, and you want the tiled floor below to swallow you whole. “you guys have fun, then,” you tell them, eyes swimming with boredom, “i’m going home.”

“no!” the boys in front of you shout in unison, startling you and your team. “you have to come. especially,” one of them pleads. “and why is that?” you put one hand on your hip, intimidating them further.

everyone already seems to know the answer to your question before the boys can even formulate the words to say it. “our captain wants you to.”

your teammates all but drag you to the beach against your will, uttering complaints about how you “need to learn how to have fun” and how they’ve “been waiting for something exciting like this to happen”.

within the first 5 minutes of your arrival, you’ve already tried to escape more times than your friends are able to count. wonyoung had to keep a tight grip on your wrist to ensure that you wouldn’t go anywhere, and you swear at the girl in your head for being stronger than she appears.

“i can’t believe anton himself told his friends to invite us just so he could see y/n,” rei mutters, astonished, “do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

“that’s definitely not the reason,” you deny, already wanting to drop the topic, “they probably just thought it would be funny because everybody on the planet knows that i hate him.”

and while taesan and leehan are most definitely aware of your hatred towards their captain, their reasoning for inviting you and your team really was because anton wanted to see you.

“invite the girls team!” leehan mocks, intentionally making his voice sound higher, “i feel sooo bad for them!” anton pays no mind to the way he’s being blatantly teased, his eyes trained on you. “feel bad for them my ass,” taesan comments under his breath, “he’s already making heart eyes at her, just like i said.”

“you’re a real masochist, you know that?” leehan adds, waving a hand in front of anton’s line of sight. the taller boy blinks in response as if he had broken out of whatever trance you had him under. “that girl doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she hates you, and you’re still, like, obsessed with her.”

anton sharply exhales through his nose, not needing another reminder of the fact that you dislike him and that he’s stupid for helplessly pining after you.

“i’ve heard that a million times,” he retorts, “and i’m not obsessed with her. in fact, i’m starting to hate her, too.”

he thinks that lying to his teammates is just as difficult as lying to sohee and seunghan, only receiving humorless looks in response to his statement. “right,” taesan scoffs, “you hate her so much that you forced me and leehan to invite the entire girls swim team just so you could see her.” anton lightly hits him with the back of his hand, muttering, “i told you that’s not the reason.”

all three boys turn to look at you, arms crossed and unamused. “oh, man,” leehan laughs, “she’s bored out of her fucking mind.” anton watches you carefully, your eyes burning a hole in the sand beneath your shoes. “why don’t you go talk to her, captain?” taesan teases, slapping his friend on the back boyishly. anton staggers forward about a centimeter due to the impact, looking back at the boy. “or anyone on the girls team, for that matter. since you made us invite every single one of them,” leehan quips.

but anton thinks that talking to you would only dampen your mood even further, and he doesn’t want the glare that you’re currently directing towards the sand to be aimed at him. “try talking to her, right there,” leehan points to someone in your general direction and anton follows his finger with his gaze, “naoi rei. she’s one of y/n’s closest friends, i think.”

taesan lets out another scoff, “yeah, but she’s not y/n. anton wants y/n, not the next best thing.”

jiwon and rei stand next to the bonfire, and you overhear one of them comment on how it isn’t as big as they were expecting it to be. you see wonyoung and yujin sitting on some large rocks a short distance away from the shore. you quickly scan the perimeter looking for gaeul, who you find sitting on the sand and looking up at the stars. your friends are all enjoying themselves— why aren’t you?

as per usual, you want to blame your discomfort on the fact that anton is in your vicinity. but how exactly could you do that when he hasn’t interacted with you all night?

come to think of it, your last interaction with the boy in question was earlier today when you told him that his hair looked stupid. you shake your head at the memory— you hadn’t even meant it. you actually liked his hair, but you’d rather drop dead than admit that to him. you hate lee anton with a burning passion, and you hate that you like his hair.

you hate that you’re currently sitting here wishing that he would come up to you and say something. after all, your friends dragged you here and his teammates made it seem as though your attendance was obligatory. the way you see it, the least anton could do after subjecting you to all of that is talk to you. you suppose that you can’t really blame him for not wanting to, though. you kick the sand beneath you at the realization.

you’re not sure how much time you spend thinking about the boy you swear to hate with every fiber of your being, but you conclude that a few long minutes must’ve gone by, because suddenly you look up and find that both your team and anton’s team are gathered around the fire. you watch them carefully, eyes wandering from individual to individual.

you see yujin laughing with some guy from the other team. you see the two boys that invited you and your friends to this very event. finally, your eyes land on anton, and you regret it almost immediately.

he’s nervously scratching the back of his neck the way you often catch him doing. he’s got a bashful smile on his lips as he looks down at whoever he’s currently talking to. you crane your neck to see who that may be, and find that it’s none other than your own teammate and friend— naoi rei.

you make a face of disgust that no one sees, and only then do you realize that you’re still standing a good distance away from the large group. “oh my god,” you scowl. you run a hand over your face, conflicted. you already hated being here, and seeing anton converse with one of your closest friends might’ve just made your attitude towards this whole situation a million times worse. you know that rei is probably over the moon right now, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye and a girlish smile.

you want to be happy for her— you think that any good friend would jump at the sight of their teammate getting along with the person they find attractive— and you swear that you would be if the person she was talking to was anyone but him. you tell yourself that it’s because rei deserves better than him, ignoring the way your heart plummets. he was only going to chase after you for so long.

you shake your head rapidly as if it would rid your mind of the thought, not knowing where it came from in the first place.

you need to get out of here— asap.

you hate lee anton and you hate that you like his hair and you hate that you spent a decent amount of time tonight wishing that he’d speak to you.

you hate that you even care in the slightest that he’s currently flirting with your best friend and you hate that almost everyone here managed to convince you that he and his teammates invited you simply because he wanted you here.

you discreetly make your way around the group, advancing towards the shore. you don’t think anyone sees you as you do so, hearing the sound of their laughter grow more distant with each step you take towards the sea. as you continue moving forward absentmindedly, you don’t realize that you’re already knees deep in the water until a salty wave crashes into you, reaching the area below your thigh.

“what are you doing?” your head quickly turns to find the source of the voice and you scowl once you realize who it is.

of course, anton chooses now to finally talk to you.

you turn back around, ignoring him, because that’s how you are— you think about him more than you’d ever like to admit and act indifferent towards him once he’s in your presence. anton watches as you turn your back to him, unsure of why he assumed that this interaction with you would be any different from your interactions in the past.

nonetheless, with bravery that he didn’t even know he had, anton continues talking. “you could get sick if you go any further,” he blurts out.

in truth, anton had been watching you through his peripheral vision as he was conversing with rei, and saw as you treaded through the sand and into the water. he excused himself— he had been looking for a way to escape the conversation anyway— and followed your silhouette that was now standing in the ocean, letting waves collide with your legs.

in retrospect, he should’ve thought of something to say to you beforehand, because if the mere act of him talking to you wasn’t enough to piss you off, anton was sure that lecturing you about how you could get sick from swimming at night would definitely cause you to flip your lid.

his suspicions appear to have been correct, because you whip your head back around and give him an angry look. “what are you doing here?” you spit, expecting him to flinch and avoid your gaze the same way that he always does.

“why can’t i be here?” he presses, furrowing his brow, and you’re the one that flinches. “do you own the ocean?”

you’re sure that steam would be coming out of your ears right now if you were living in an old cartoon. you clench your fist, taken aback.

“why do you hate me so much, y/n?” anton pleads, unable to prevent the million dollar question from leaving his lips. this is a position he never thought he’d find himself in; confronting you about your unadulterated hatred towards him while your entire bottom half is almost completely submerged in the ocean.

your lip quivers and you clench your teeth as you feel your resilient facade start to crack. neither you nor anton are sure where his daring attitude came from, but it seems to be catching both of you by surprise, because even the boy in question moves to wipe his palms against his jeans to rid them of their clamminess. “answer me,” he demands, his voice as soft as it normally is and yet it still intimidates you.

you turn around for the forth and final time, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of discovering the root of your distaste towards him. anton shakes his head, although you’re unable to see it, and sharply inhales in preparation for what he’s about to do.

he cautiously takes a step forward, letting the water dampen the cuffs of his jeans. he cringes, but proceeds nevertheless, mimicking the strides that you had taken minutes prior.

before you’re able to prevent it from happening, anton is standing directly beside you, jeans darkening as the water seeps into them, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

the tall boy leans forward, and you lean back. “answer me,” he repeats his previous words in a hushed voice.

you’re looking down at the water that the two of you are standing in and anton thinks it’s funny, for a moment, how the roles seem to be reversed— you’re tense and apprehensive while he’s bold and collected, trying to crane his neck to meet your downward pointed gaze.

“you should know the reason why,” he hears you speak under your breath. you finally look at him, eyes narrowed. “you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” you question, and he recoils.

“i’m not— what? why would— why do you think i’m making fun of you?” anton sputters, genuinely appalled at the accusation. he’s unable to wrap his head around what kind of thoughts might be running through your mind right now.

“because there’s no way in hell that you don’t know why i hate you, lee anton,” you say, words flying from your mouth hurriedly. “there’s no way you just let me push you around and stare at you like you’re the scum of the earth if you don’t know the reason why. you have to know,” you look into his eyes in search of an answer but you’re only met with confusion.

anton shakes his head. “i don’t know, y/n,” he begins, “i really don’t know, and i’m sorry if you think i’m playing a prank on you right now, but i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he looks down momentarily, his eyes landing on his wet jeans. when he looks back up, he’s zoned in on the way the moon makes your eyes look as though they’re sparkling, and he thinks it’s beautiful. “you may know this already,” he starts speaking again, “but i’m in love with you.”

he makes sure not to stutter or appear anxious in the slightest, afraid that if he made the slightest mistake, he’d try to prevent the words from leaving his mouth. and he needs you to know.

your lips part, his words shocking you more than anything else that has taken place tonight. “i’m always lying to my teammates and my friends, saying that i don’t like you because they think i’m insane for chasing after someone who wishes i didn’t even exist,” anton continues, his tone becoming sorrowful, “but i can’t lie anymore. especially not to you.”

by now, both of your hearts are pounding, and you’re sure that they would be audible if it weren’t for the sounds of the waves crashing. “so, no,” he says, “the reason i let you push me around isn’t because i know why you hate me. it’s because i’m in love with you, and no matter how hard i try, i can’t stop.”

he waits for you to respond, eyes trained on yours. you finally start speaking, lowly and carefully. “there was this guy,” you tell him, “you used to hang out with him last year. i would see you and him laughing together all the time, with two other friends of yours.”

taking in your words, anton ponders who you could be referring to before his eyes widen slightly. “wonbin?” he asks, although he has no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about his older friend. wonbin, seunghan, sohee and anton were practically attached at the hip during the latter’s freshman year of college, and when wonbin made the decision to drop out in order to pursue a career in music, the other three were left to fend for themselves.

you scoff, despite wanting to contain your hostility towards the boy after his confession. “i don’t know his name,” you mumble, “but yeah, that’s probably him.”

anton nods, urging you to continue. he’s finally going to find out why you’ve disliked him for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t want to waste a second. “he told me that you liked me,” you say, watching as the boy flinches in your peripheral at your words. “and i was so happy at the time because i liked you, too.”

it’s anton’s turn to be stunned by your confession, not believing the words that are coming out of your mouth. “i would always look at you, but you’d never look at me back. when your friend— wonbin, i guess— told me that you liked me, i thought that meant you would talk to me,” you shake your head at the memory, “but you never did. it was like i didn’t even exist to you.”

you keep talking, quietly, “every single person who knew me knew that i liked you. one day, i saw you guys laughing together like you always did, and then it clicked in my brain.” you’re silent for a moment before you continue. “i figured that you must’ve known that i liked you, too, and told your friend to say that to me as some sort of cruel joke.”

anton is yet again appalled at your words. “you only seemed to start caring about my existence at the beginning of last semester. you tried to come up to me a few times, and i always assumed it was because you were finally feeling bad about the whole wonbin thing and wanted to apologize, and i didn’t want to hear it. it was around that time that i started hating you.”

you scratch the back of your neck, not having thought that you’d ever admit any of this to the boy standing beside you. anton swallows before he thinks over his next words. “i didn’t know about any of that,” he assures you, and he can sense that you doubt his words momentarily because he starts talking faster. “i’m not sure what prompted wonbin to say that to you, but i can tell you this,” he whispers, “i’ve been in love with you from the very first time i saw you, and no amount of insults or glares from you is ever going to change that.” for a moment, even the waves of the ocean seem to still, leaving only the sound of anton’s voice ringing in your ears.

you’re not used to feeling this vulnerable, and the fact that you’re sharing a moment like this with lee anton— the man you (no longer) hate— sends a shiver down your spine. you find yourself searching for a sense of familiarity, even if it comes in the form of playful banter rather than the usual insult.

“say that again,” you tell him, and he’s unsure if you’re being serious at first. when silence lingers in the air, he finally begins speaking. “i’ve… been in love with you since the first time i saw you,” anton says, unsure. you shake your head, displeased.

“put it in the present tense,” you purse your lips, crossing your arms. anton lets out a curt laugh, now realizing that you’re actually joking with him. so this, he thinks, is what it feels like to laugh with you. “i’m in love with you, y/n,” by now, he’s adorning a smile that reaches his eyes, head slightly tilted towards the ground bashfully.

“wanna know something, lee anton? i think i might be, too.”

weeks later, you’re swinging open the doors to the pool area, the smell of chlorine crashing into you as you step inside.

the boys team is in the middle of practicing, leehan and taesan— who’s names you finally learned after enduring weeks of their relentless teasing, always having to hear a complaint from them about how their team captain is even less focused than before since the two of you started dating— spotting you almost immediately. they let out exaggerated groans, knowing they now have to witness you and anton grossly interact.

“captain!” taesan calls out with dread lacing his tone, “your girlfriend is here.” upon hearing that, anton, who is currently in the pool, whips his head around so quickly that you’re almost positive he could’ve gotten whiplash. you wave, and rather than exiting the water, he swims over to where you stand on the poolside. looking up at you, he smiles, slightly out of breath. “hey, lovely,” he says, removing the goggles from around his head so he can study you better.

he pays no mind to the sounds of his teammates gagging in the background, not looking anywhere but at you.

to say that both your team and anton’s team were surprised upon hearing about your blossoming relationship with the boy would be an understatement. not only did both teams have to grow accustomed to the fact that you no longer hated anton, but they also needed to get used to the mere concept of you two dating each other. it wasn’t as though you two no longer served as distractions to the other, however— if anything, you both stared at each other even more than you had previously, the difference being that now you looked at anton with adoration in your eyes rather than resentment.

“i don’t know if seeing you two together makes my heart want to explode with joy, or if it makes me wanna throw up,” you recall rei telling you during practice one day. anton has shared similar stories, stating that although both taesan and leehan are happy to see their captain in a relationship with the girl he’s been pining after, they hate the way anton apparently never shuts up about you during training.

you look down at the boy, flashing him a smile of your own. droplets of water threaten to fall into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “hey,” you hum, “i won’t bother you long. just checking in.” anton shakes his head, water spraying the floor beneath you in the process. “you never bother me,” he says.

“oh, hush,” you wave your hand dismissively. “i’m serious. hey, can you come down here for a sec?” anton asks, gesturing for you to crouch next to the pool. you give him a suspicious look, morphing your lips into a tight line. “anton, i’m not letting you pull me in there.”

he shakes his head again, letting out a laugh. “i’m not gonna pull you in,” he tells you, and you still aren’t convinced. “y/n!” he whines, stretching the final syllable. you look to the ceiling for a moment, letting out a scoff before kneeling down next to the pool.

in a swift motion, anton grabs your shoulders and lands a kiss on your lips. it’s wet from the water of the pool and you pull away, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. anton is laughing as you swat at his arm, muttering something about how he got your shirt wet.

anton sees an opportunity in the fact that you haven’t stood up yet, fully wrapping his arms around your shoulders, nearly causing you to fall into the chlorinated water. his laughter only increases in volume, and his teammates don’t think they’ve ever heard him laugh that hard. you let out a yelp, feeling the water continue to seep through the fabric of your shirt. you struggle against his embrace, and he shows no signs of releasing you. “lee anton! oh my god— i hate you!”

you both know that you’re lying.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! this is my 30th time trying to post this but we move

[lariumbreon]

Succubus HRT - Week ???? - Borderline Aftermath

In an effort to listen to my therapist, to better help myself, and to help possibly enlighten and educate people. A lot of Succubus HRT is contextual to my own personal struggles with borderline personality disorder, ptsd, hypersexuality, and my suicidal tendencies. A very not-fun blend of mental issues. A lot of this was meant to stay in private journals. But as I started to draw more, I felt like presenting the art publicly might also help others struggling in the same or similar ways. Make no mistake, I am making progress, and I am doing better. But sometimes it gets hard. Sometimes guilt from previous episodes take hold. Sometimes PTSD takes the wheel and I relive the pains that caused the episodes all over again via emotional flashbacks. Living like this, is often an inescapable waking nightmare. One small miscommunication. One small mistake. One small misread of a mundane sentence. One unexpected minor change in the dynamics of a relationship with someone. It's enough to send me into a spiral. Of course the bigger triggers affect harder. Unkept promises, lies, being used. All these triggers often leave open wounds that don't simply heal. If not resolved, or if someone simply just doesn't care, what starts is a near bottomless decline into various degrees of mania, depression, anxiety, and so much more. It gets even worse when the person who triggers it simply tries to ignore it, or act as though it's wholly my fault for feeling hurt and the episodes I have afterwards. That doesn't happen often, and I've since found the strength to not be friends with those who have done this to me.

These episodes can last weeks, months. I get incredibly paranoid about every interaction, as if I might slip and fall onto spikes at any moment. Or that the masks might slip and the person I'm speaking with will start to scream about how they hate me and want nothing to do with me. It's a constant battle with intrusive thoughts, false memories. I often spend nights crying having fabricated arguments in my head, catastrophizing until I pass out from the pain. Abject isolation and me spending a night ghosting nigh everyone I know and love in one last self-destructive episode is a common grand finale of the spiral. An episode can take place over weeks, months. For some people they just go about their lives, while I hold on to a small hurt that collects, festers, and explodes outward seemingly out of nowhere. To them, they're doing nothing. But to me, even just being shorter than usual in their replies feels like claws on my heart. So I lash out. Causing constant and irreparable damage around me to relationships and those in them. It's as if existing with BPD gives me a constant AOE Ring of Fire that causes friendly fire damage.

"People with Borderline Personality Disorder (and those like them) are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their body. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement." - Marsha Linehan

Very few quotes have ever felt or spoken as true to me about living with borderline as this one. It best encapsulates how I feel when episodes happen. Like my whole body exists as an open wound, and every small trigger causes inexplicable pain throughout my brain and my heart. Which has often led to my struggles with addictions to pain pills and the like. The worst part, is there is often no perfectly right way to engage with me. Episodes will happen over the smallest things. I cannot guarantee I won't struggle. People with borderline, we struggle often, and greatly. What we struggle with cannot just simply be fixed, or even helped. But with patient and understanding hands, we'll pull through okay in the end. Fragile, handle with care.

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

09 disconnect. where an unbridgeable distance stretches between you and ushijima

<< 08 to be human. | >> 10 epiphany.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: a short one now, the next one is like 5k words hehe - ave word count: 1.8k warnings: angst! miscommunication tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

you surprised yourself with the creativity of your own excuses to avoid wakatoshi. group study? you can’t, you need to practice for orchestra. lunch? chika from orchestra wanted to go over some pieces with you. walking you home from school? eita’s got it, you have homework to go over together anyway.

as oblivious as ushijima is at times, you are quite sure he is onto you avoiding him. 

you can’t go on like this forever, you had decided back then. it’s one thing when the person you are in love with doesn’t see you that way — you expected nothing from him in that way, but it's another thing completely when he didn’t tell you that they lost in nationals.

he can’t go on expecting you to open up to him when he won’t do the same. when he won’t treat you as a close friend like you do with him. he knows your secrets but what do you know of his?��

it’s a purely give and take friendship, and you realize how ironic it is, being the one to cut it off, considering he is the one who only gives and you are the one who only takes from him. how can you give if he does not want to take?

you have accepted that it was a one-sided pining, but you thought you were friends. and selfishly, you wanted to be the person he turns to when life knocks him down. you wanted to mean something to him, even if that meant just friends. what does he think of you if you weren’t worth his honesty? what is your worth in his eyes then? you didn’t want to know.

how am i supposed to live knowing the answer to that when i started living because of you?

and so like a coward, you ran. 

at times like this, you are grateful for the fact that you are not in the same class as ushijima. 

semi became your shield, the wall between the two of you. the morning after you stayed over at ushijima’s dorm, you had run into tendo and semi while leaving. 

“this never happened,” you told them before heading home. and semi, having guessed for a while of your feelings towards ushijima, hurried to catch up with you. he had noticed the anguish carved into the lines of your face. 

you kept your silence, but he pestered you until you broke. you cried, squeezing your eyes shut at a feeble attempt to keep your tears in. your silent sobs wracking your frame that felt so small in his arms. and all he could do was hold onto you tightly, rubbing your back to comfort you.

your voice came out in a broken whisper, “semi, it hurts.”

that kicked his protectiveness over you into overdrive. “what did that bastard do?” 

you only shook your head quietly, tears soaking his jacket as you held onto him like your life depended on it.

at the slightest discomfort you show in ushijima’s presence, semi would usher you away, or stop him from approaching you. after three weeks of tension and hostility between the two, or more like hostility on semi’s part and confusion from ushijima, you relented. 

you didn’t want to be the cause for a fight in the volleyball team, and with semi’s hotheadedness, it was more than likely to occur in your absence. 

“it’s not his fault, semi.” you started, hugging your knees. that day, you found yourself sitting on the little concrete ledge outside the classroom with him to hide from ushijima. 

“he used you and you’re saying it’s not his fault?”

“what– no! it wasn’t anything like that!” you had fumbled with words at his misunderstanding. 

“i just don’t think he care about–” you shook your head. “he doesn’t treat me as a friend. not in the same way i do. and i don’t understand why. why he bothered being there for me if he doesn’t see me as a friend.” why he put my heart back together just to be the one to shatter it. you blinked rapidly, willing your tear ducts to listen to you. 

“oh, y/n. well he’s a shithead for that.” he nudged you with his shoulder. “say the word and i will punch him for you.”

“as if you would win that fight,” you sniffled, letting out a small laugh at his attempt to cheer you up. 

“oi, how could you say that? i am on your side here.” he squatted in front of you pouting. “c’mon we need to get back to class”

he offered you a hand as he rose. “thanks eita” you grabbed his outreached hand and dusted yourself off. 

back to the trenches you went. life goes on. you had once thought that you would rather have all of him as he is right now platonically than romantically, but life has a strange sense of humor. it hurt and hurt and hurt. and oh gods, will it ever stop?

“do you want to talk to him?” semi had asked you only once, a few days after he found out what happened between the two of you. you had only shaken your head and muttered something about “not wanting to find out”. he dropped the topic after that, respecting your decision, but still running interference whenever ushijima comes up. 

for your sake, he didn’t try to push you to do anything you were uncomfortable with, even if the situation was slowly deteriorating and quickly spinning out of control. what he didn’t tell you was ushijima’s growing irritability showing through at practice to the point that coach washijo told him to get his shit together. 

the curt and polite captain had descended to snapping at the younger players a handful of times when his patience ran thin. with the compounding factor of you avoiding him like a plague, his controlled composure is slowly reaching its limit. 

ushijima did not understand what he could have done to have you keep your distance from him. he was frustrated that he could not even try to talk to you with semi stopping him at every opportunity. what had he done so wrong that you are refusing to speak to him?

unable to figure out the problem on his own, he had spoken to tendo to get his opinion on the matter. tendo had suggested that perhaps it is the fact that you had stayed over in the same bed as him, which is something only two people in a relationship do, despite being only friends, and that he had tarnished your honor. 

then one day at practice, tendo announced that he had a good idea to get you alone with ushijima to talk things through, and so the plan was hatched. 

as tendo knocked on the door and pushed it open, he sees you for the first time in a few weeks, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. tendo had managed to squirrel the location of the classroom where the orchestra practice was held out of semi, and is now requesting the president for permission to speak with you privately. 

the short haired girl hesitates, but ushijima steps forward, “please, it is important.” at his words, she appears stricken, and torn between agreeing to their request and respecting yours. she knows that you have been avoiding him. hell, the whole year knows. 

she relents under pressure. ushijima is cognizant of his good looks, and his effect on girls in general. he knows of the fans he has garnered through his time in shiratorizawa, and strongly dislikes that most of them come to support him at games because of his looks, and not his skills. he has heard the whispers and the stares and his fair share of oh, he’s so hot’s and the i wish he’s my boyfriend’s throughout the years. but sometimes, it comes in handy, like right now.

his eyes stay on you, noting the resignedness on your face as you gently put the violin down on your seat that was right in front of the conductor. the glare you throw towards the short haired girl from earlier makes him chuckle under his breath. 

you march out towards a secluded archway, not bothering to check if he is following, but of course he is. he follows you closely, eyes taking in your moving form with detail. from the extra inch that your hair had grown in the last month and the specific ash brown of your hair that he had missed finding strands of on his clothes to your head moving side to side, looking at everything but him. 

“what did you want to talk about?” you waste no time in getting straight to the point.

he has to admit that it hurts for you to treat him like some stranger you had to deal with and go back to whatever you were doing, but if tendo is right, he deserves it. 

“i wanted to apologize.” he says, watching the fire in your eyes flicker before you looked away, feigning nonchalance.

“what for?” you shove your trembling hands deep into your pockets, far, far away from his watchful eyes. you hate it. you hate the way he sees through you so easily. 

ushijima hesitates then, hoping to the gods who are listening that tendo is right, “for having you stay over and share the bed with me even though we are not a couple.”

“i’m sorry, what?” you let out a laugh of disbelief. all the different directions you had thought this conversation would go, all of them ending in either tears or shouting, you did not see this one coming. “you thought i what?”

you lick your parched lips, “you thought i was avoiding you for something as insignificant as that?” all your overthinking and sleepless nights for him to come to this conclusion?

his eyebrows furrow at your words. “that is not the reason you–”

“absolutely not.” you cut him short, teeth gritted at your own foolishness, of secretly hoping he would come to the realization on his own, and maybe, maybe you can go back to how things were. 

noticing your kouhai poking her head out from the classroom back down the hallway, you take that as your cue to leave. “now if you will excuse me, i need to get back to practice.”

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[mxpseudonym]

Apple Cherry Blossom

Pairing: Luca x Blossom OC

Summary: Luca would like a little jealousy from his wife now and again.

Length: 1166 words

Warnings: None

A/N: I couldn't help myself 😭. I got inspired by “The Story of Ming Lan” and had to write this out. I hope you enjoy this out-of-the-blue post.

..

She held a half-eaten cherry in one hand and a pencil in the other. The account book on the desk in front of her laid open was for their new house. She would have to keep track of things like that now that she was officially a Changretta and a homemaker.

She put the rest of the cherry in her mouth, pitting it with her molars and tongue. Just when she was finished, a cup appeared in front of her mouth and she dropped the pit in to join the growing pile. Before she could think about it, another cherry was being held to her lips.

The attendant was none other than her husband who seemed both deep into the story he was telling her about his trip around town that led him to obtain a half pound of cherries, yet alert enough to steadily alternate between feeding them to her and providing a bowl to spit pits into.

She looked away from the amount they paid the butcher every month and up to Luca who was talking wildly with his free hand while patiently holding the cherry with the other.

“And finally we were walking through the street and this girl runs up to Ronnie. Would you believe it was Angela Cappoli? Could barely recognize her since she’s all grown up. And- here, it’s sweet,” Luca said, stopping his own story to push the fruit onto her.

She leaned back and picked up her glass of water first, taking a sip before catching the plump dark purple fruit between her teeth and letting him pull the stem.

“Angela Cappoli, can you believe it? Ma used to say we’d get married, you know?”

“Really? Why?”

“The Cappoli’s were bigger than us when I was in her belly, and she said a marriage could bring us together since Mrs. Cappoli was pregnant at the same time. Never worked out,” he concluded. Blossom nodded then dropped the pit in the cup. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that.”

“Worry?”

“Well we were a little sweet on each other for a while,” he admitted sheepishly. “But it wasn’t anything to be upset about.”

“I’m not upset, though?” She pointed out before before going back to her book. Luca blinked at her the squinted a bit. The next cherry from the little carton went to his mouth instead. This was his fault, really.

He was too honest and straightforward with her. He never wanted some miscommunication to come from vague, choppy words so he just told her everything. Blossom, therefore, didn’t worry about him lying to her. In conclusion, she had no reason to be the jealous type, sometimes to his dismay.

“It was a long time ago,” he continued carefully. “But today, she was real chatty. Kept reminiscing on old dates we had. And then she ran and gave me some of her parents’ apples.” He went back to feeding Blossom cherries, this time doing two in succession to watch her cheeks get a little chubby. “Don’t worry, I gave the apples to my sister-in-law.”

“You should’ve kept them, you like apples,” she said absently while flipping to a new page. Luca stared at her in disbelief.

“If my father told my mother, the sensible woman she is, that he’d taken the apples from an old sweetheart, even she’d give him a wack,” he told her. “And you’re not even the slightest bit worried about Angela?”

“Who cares about Angela? You’ve been talking for 20 minutes and haven’t even told me where these cherries came from,” Blossom reminded him. “Even if you wanted to marry her on your own, I wouldn’t mind if you took the apples. Your mother probably puts up a fuss to make your father feel good too. I doubt she thinks he’ll get taken away.”

Her mouth dropped open, ready to eat another cherry only to find there was none. She looked up, following Luca’s movements as he put the carton down and stood, heading to the couch. He laid out over the velvet and then looked at her with a dissatisfied face that was too similar to what children who felt wronged would pull. What was wrong with him now?

“You could pretend at least,” Luca grumbled. Blossom’s eyes roamed over his spread-out figure as she pondered. She was well within her rights to ignore him, and even confront him about being the strangest man she’d ever met. He wanted her to act foolish over another woman after all of the years they’d been together. No one could invite trouble, insist on it even, like him.

After a moment she stood. Picking up her glass, she took a healthy drink before tossing the last quarter at her husband and slamming the glass back onto her desk. Luca jolted, sitting straight up as he spluttered from the water up his nose. He blinked away droplets only to find Blossom with her hands on her hips.

“I leave you alone for one afternoon, and you go get yourself a woman to follow you around town?! A dog would be more loyal,” she scoffed. Luca blinked at her as she tsked and shook her head. “I should’ve known you weren’t over her. Her and her damn apples. Bastard.”

She clicked her tongue loudly and ignored the fact that the smile growing on Luca’s face had reached its widest point before he even knew to pretend like he wasn’t giddy. Luca wiped his chin and stood, walking around the coffee table to her.

“I haven’t thought about her in ages. Couldn’t even tell you what she was wearing. I only have my eyes on you. Ronnie’s got to keep me from walking in the street ‘cause I can’t see straight.”

Blossom turned from him and stopped herself from laughing at his ridiculousness. She only allowed a brief smile before rolling her eyes and putting her stern face back on. Luca’s arms didn’t waste a moment before they wrapped around her fully, almost making her lose balance.

“You’re mouth’s too sweet. Keeping me full of cherries just to pacify me. I shouldn’t have even let you come home. Go sleep on the street,” She scolded him the best she could with his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She could feel his grin.

“I have such a good wife. I’d sleep on the doorstep if you didn’t let me in. Happily.”

“I’ll let you off this time, but only because you can’t convince me you could find someone else to put up with you,” she concluded haughtily. Now that, he knew, was straight from her heart.

“I’ll go easier on my second wife,” he muttered, eyes closed peacefully even when Blossom’s head whipped around to him and tried unwrapping his arms that only wrapped tighter.

“Huh?!”

“Ah ah, stay like this. I’m just teasing. You’re my only wife until the end. The cherries are from Miss Martin. She said you’re sweet and pay good prices for her produce.”

Blossom muttered but finally leaned back into his embrace, “Rascal.”

[siminnmsis]

Found in translation | Soap MacTavish.

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish X Reader.

Summary: Soap and reader bound over language and odd sayings.

Warnings: none, it's just fluff, can be interpreted as platonic.

___________________________________________________________________________

"Hen? Like a chicken? "

A hearty laugh fell from his lips but stopped quickly when he winced in pain, folding over with his hand on his chest.

Calm and kind to a fault, she helped him settle back slowly on the makeshift bed and continued cleaning his wound. A stab wound, not enough to kill but definitely painful, made by an amateur mercenary, graced sergeant Soap's muscular chest. If anything, the sergeant felt grateful, as a strategist she did not have to play medic after hours but she was nice enough to share what little medical skills she had with the team and Soap would lie if he said he didn't like her playing nurse with him.

Now, loving and caring as she was, he felt like a term of endearment wouldn't be out of place, but that was without counting on the language barrier; him and his heavy Scottish accent, her and her literal, too-polite English she learned as a second language.

Keen on fixing the miscommunication while she put the last of gauze on his wound, he explained " no, like honey or sweetheart...you know".

Oh he hoped she didn't mind the steps he was taking toward her, but she didn't look mad in the slightest, if anything she looked pensive. Finally she smiled warmly at him " I understand, for a moment I thought you meant it as in coward"

"Never in this life or the other, lass"

They already went through the word "lass" last week and "bairn" the week before.

"Does it sound weird to you?" He asked curiously.

She fixed the last piece of adhesive bandage before removing her gloves and gesturing for him to get dressed.

"Not at all," then she thought for a second while bringing a stool close to where he was sitting "in my country, when you really love someone, of unconditional and unlimited love, you don't call them your heart" she leaned forward with a conspirating look and a mischievous grin, and Soap found himself leaning too, impatient to hear what she had to say "you call them your liver"

He laughed again, this time boundless and free of pain.

[morangoowada]

One thing that gets me about the Diamond brothers is that honestly… it feels like there was a lot of miscommunication between the two of them. Or better, a total lack of it.

I don’t blame Daiya for anything because, as you’ve stated earlier, he was also a kid raising another kid, but because of it he probably made tons of mistakes he felt super guilty about.

Just think about the whole situation with the gang, the older Owada probably decided that joining the street life was the best solution to allow the both of them to take part in a community that made them feel recognised and loved, but instead, it only destroyed Mondo and their relationship.

His little brother became more and more insecure and resentful, because he found himself dragged in a life style that didn’t represent him in the slightest. The same people that were supposed to feel like family constantly looked down on him since they considered him the “weakest” brother, and because of that, Mondo created a rift between the two of them, growing distant and refusing to open up.

Daiya simply watched all that and frankly didn’t know what to do because… how to reach out to someone that refuses to tell you what’s going on in his mind?

All of this makes his last words so much more impactful.

“Sorry kid, I fucked up.”

Perhaps he was just trying to reassure Mondo that this wasn’t his fault, but what if there was more to it? “I’m sorry for not being a good brother and for having put you in such an awful position, you should have never felt this way in my regards and you’re genuinely so much better than you think you are. Please, take care of yourself from now on, because I failed you.”

Ugh… the Diamond brothers… they make me so emotional…

You can't do that to me moot.... You're so real, I focused a lot on the part that these two cared about each other and forgot about that part, but I guess you explained it better than I ever could...

[karenandhenwilson]

The whole foster care and foster parents situation in 9-1-1 keeps really challenging my suspension of disbelief. Especially if I start thinking about it in more detail in plans for some stories. I love the idea of Hen and Karen being foster parents and also adopting another child (or even a couple more children). I just wish it would be executed more carefully.

Let's start with Nia. She was clearly never intended to stay in foster care for long or get adopted by anyone. Everything we learn about that situation while she is reintroduced to her mother points at that. And while I don't know much about the US system here, there are just so many question marks about this.

If Nia was always supposed to eventually come back into her mother's custody, why wasn't there regular contact between them? It has to have been painful for Nia to be separated from her mother, who as far as we see is a very dedicated mother but was stuck in a horrible situation for a little while. And it had to be such hardship for her mother, too, to be completely separated from her daughter while she rebuild her life. Did she really believe she'd ever get her daughter back? Or was she fearing the whole time to never see Nia again until she was 18 and maybe not even then if Nia grew up to resent her without knowing the real circumstances? 

If Nia was never supposed to be adopted, why were Karen and Hen so convinced they would adopt her eventually? Where did the communication between Deidra or any other social workers and the Wilsons break down so much that there was such a miscommunication between them? Of course, Hen and Karen should not have been told any details about Nia's mother's life that weren't necessary for Nia's care, but it should have been made clear from the very beginning that Nia wasn't with them to stay. That her mother had every chance and intention to get back into a place where she could take care of her daughter again.

And of course, there is then Karen looking for Nia's mother. (And how did she even find her? After Deidra gave out the information about Mara's brother and his parents I kind of suspect she helped here, too. Which just brings up a lot of questions about Deidree and her suitability for the job she is doing.)

Then Karen and Hen prepared for months to adopt a baby. I don't fault the grandmother of that baby to change her mind after all. But I think it's a horrible decision of Deidra to come in and go "I'm sorry this adoption of the baby didn't happen. But I'll use your disappointment over it to push this horrible traumatized child at you and guilt trip you into fostering and hopefully adopting her all the while without telling you why exactly she is so traumatized to give you a chance to make it even worse instead of giving you the ability to help her."

That's how Mara showed up. She was tossed at foster parents without giving the foster parents even just the slightest bit of information about the trauma she was dealing with. I've seen the argument about Deidra protecting Mara's privacy with that, but I call bullshit to that. Hen and Karen were made responsible for Mara and her well-being. That includes her mental well-being. How can they help her to deal with the trauma of finding her parents dead and being separated from her half-brother if they don't know about any of it?

I agree that it's not right that Hen and Karen learned this information through Athena looking up Mara's parents. (Though, at least Mara's call to 9-1-1 would have been publically available anyway, right? Those calls are all made public in the US, as far as I know?) But they should have never needed to look up the information illegally because it should have been Deidra's duty to tell them at least the bare facts: Mara found her parents dead. Mara was separated from her half-brother because his father didn't want to take her. Because otherwise Hen and Karen had no chance from the very beginning to deal with either of those traumas.

Then there is Mara's blanket. We learn right at the beginning that the blanket is the only thing she has left of her old life. Why is that? I could understand that if there had been a fire. And in the beginning, I suspected exactly that: I thought a fire had killed Mara's family and when she was rescued, she held on to the blanket as it was the only thing that escaped the fire. But instead, we learn she found her parents dead and nothing was destroyed. Did the system really take everything else from this girl? Did they really not let her take anything else with her when she went into the system? That doesn't seem very humane or compassionate. (Or maybe I'm just not aware how truly horrible the system is in the US.)

Then, there is the whole situation of Mara being taken away from the Wilsons. That's a lot about corruption, of course. I mean, the adoption was nearly finalized as far as we learn. And suddenly Karen and Hen are declared unfit to be foster parents? Unfit to adopt? And seemingly no one took the time to look into it a little more closely? I honestly was also expecting Denny to be taken away from them in these circumstances. If they aren't fit to adopt another child, how are they fit enough to care for the child already in their care? Wouldn't it also have made sense for the Councilwoman to go all in here and do everything to have both children taken away from Hen?

At last, there is Maddie and Chimney becoming foster parents for emergency placement in less than 24 hours. Clearly without any kind of background check or anything else. When we saw with Hen and Karen how long it took for them, and how many hurdles they had to take. But it's canon now that somehow while one couple had to work for months to be granted this place, the other couple could just take it because from one moment to the next they wanted to. (Looking at both couples and comparing them brings up some horrible thoughts here, right? But I know for a fact the showwriters didn't consider that. They only considered how they could turn this situation they had created into something a little hopeful for the end of the season. I would not be surprised if s8 starts with Mara being taken away from Maddie and Chimney for the drama's sake.)

So, yeah. As much as I love to see more of the Wilson family, the drama the show writers create artificially for them is grating on my nerves the more often it happens. It also feels disingenuous for the representation Hen and Karen provide. There are so many other ways to bring storylines and drama into their family dynamic, and sometimes the writers were very successful in creating that: Hen's plans to change her career, the disappointment over the IVF not working for Karen, Toni showing up in LA unannounced and the conflict between her and Hen, the accident at Karen's work. We know nothing about Karen's family. I'd much prefer some drama with Hen's in-laws than this bullshit of a woman letting her grief lead her to ruin a little girl's life even more than it already is.

[lykegenia]

For the "Commentary track" prompt--any snippet of Chapter 22 of The Falcon and the Rose!

One of my favourite chapters! In fact, if I remember right, it was THE chapter in the early part of the story that kept me going because I had to write everything else before I could get there.

For those who haven't read it, Chapter 22 is where the miscommunication between Rosslyn and Alistair blows up into a massive argument. There's so much going on with it, but the most important part is the moment after Rosslyn has let everything out and they're both now on the same page but not quite sure what to do about it:

She deflated then, folding in on herself as she clutched for the silver seal ring that had been passed to her for safekeeping, that didn’t fit her finger. Her gaze slipped from Alistair’s even as he reached for her, the silence between them roaring so loud he almost missed the choke from the tears held stubbornly back in her eyes. Yet even so she was drawing up, pulling away, smoothing into the posture and poise of the noble façade that would remain, untouched, even as the soul beneath it shattered like glass. “Your Highness must excuse me…” “Rosslyn, wait.” His hand found hers. Her skin was cold, her battle rage spent. At the slightest tug, she went unresisting into his arms and he embraced her, tucking her away from the world and from his own selfish, sulking refusal to see how close she had been to breaking all along. “It’s not your fault,” he breathed into her hair. “It’s not. None of this is your fault.” Hesitantly, still fighting for control against the tide that threatened to swallow her whole, her hands slid around his waist to fist in the back of his shirt. When she mastered herself enough to speak, the words quavered against his neck. “They – they’re all gone.” “I know.” “It’s just me.” “I’m here.” “I have no idea what to do but I – I can’t ask them because I’m the only one left.” “It’s not your fault,” he repeated, and wound his fingers into her hair.

Up until this point she's been careful to appear in control, and her first instinct here is to hide her vulnerability, not just because protocol demands composure, but also because at this point in the story she's become so used to dealing with things on her own because there's nobody to help share the burden. She's also been ignoring said burden, because doing otherwise would mean dealing with the guilt and feelings of inadequacy over her parents' deaths. The seal ring is one of a couple of symbols for the responsibility of the teyrnir (the other main one being the sword) and it's important that it doesn't fit properly: it's too big, and even after she gets it resized, the urgency of the war means it's a botched job that creates a spur on one side that chafes a callus into her skin. It's a memento from her father but also a reminder of the burdens he left on her shoulders.

This is the first time that she's admitted to another person that she's struggling, and it's important that Alistair's response is that he's there for her and that it's not her fault. It took a few rewrites to get the tone right, because this is the point in the fic where they truly start to understand each other. Up until this point they've been coming at the subject of the nobility from opposite directions and it's caused them to misinterpret each other's actions. It's still important though, because as the story goes on they make an active choice to learn from each other, and this moment is where it starts

I also make a big deal of Rosslyn drawing up and using her height as a way to create space for herself, as she's taller than average and can be quite imposing when she wants to be. It doesn't work on Alistair, though ;D

--

Send me a passage from one of my fics and get a DVD-style commentary on it! What I was thinking, what the characters are thinking, and other cool behind-the-scenes fun facts 💜

[ronearoundblindly]

Ari comforting you when you find out someone isn’t who you thought they were and your whole world get flipped upside done (I’m sure ppl will take this each and every different way but I’ve been wanting to ask this for a while and after your Valentine’s Day post I finally decided to ask the ask)

Um, something something about the owner of your company being implicated in a personal scandal that makes you worry about the security of your job and how that crosses over into feeling like you need to know and analyze his personal life while Ari tries to keep you calm and positive about the things you can control about the situation and not the drama--

Guys, I gotta be really honest here. I can't do this one. [Long version below the cut.] TLDR; it hits too close to home.

I am splitting from my husband after almost nine years together because he lied (very boiled down version), and in a twisted way, I know and understand why he lied. I feel guilty and sick and cheated and overwhelmed all day every day. I have a real-life person to blame and yet it still isn't actually his fault. I cannot write this.

My world has been flipped upside down and I AM NOT WHO I THOUGHT I WAS. So let's just glaze over this with me saying, maybe in the future this won't be so raw and triggering, but I have avoided enough unintentional, coincidental fandom triggers to just barely get by. I have a panic disorder that goes bonkers at the slightest thing right now.

I have written toxic media coverage into Fools Rush In, The Stark Legacy, and It Had To Be You for a reason. I write about miscommunication and making assumptions for a reason. That is about as close as I can offer to this ask. Bedrock and Blueprints' Joanna is also about a woman who deals with her life and issues as best she can but it still affects others negatively. She's human. She has terrible moments. Hell, I've written Steve and Ari and Ransom all having terrible moments that are hurtful. I just can't do it again right now.

I appreciate that you would trust me with this from the bottom of my heart. I know what it took to ask, and I am sorry that I simply cannot touch this one for you. Not right now.

Thank you for asking though. I love you! 💚💜

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW: implied/fade to black smut, enemies(ish) to lovers

Word Count: 1080

It’s his fault he’s so annoying. It’s entirely his fault that his stupidly cute face has a stupidly cute noise that crinkles when he talks. Not that you’d ever admit it, he's probably more cute than annoying. Slightly, very slightly. So it's either ignore your crush or focus on the aspects of Spencer that annoy you. Coincidentally, those aspects are some of very things you find endearing.

Which makes it all too hard to share a room with him. Usually, room assignments are solo, but in more remote locations the team doubles up. JJ and Emily, Hotch and Derek, and you and Spencer. Everyone pairs up, leaving you and Spencer as the leftovers. Between your snoring and Spencer's terrible sleep habits, you're members of the team that no one wants to room with. The universe, as it seems, has it out for you.

"Derek," you whisper, carefully out of Hotch's earshot, "please, please let me room with you," you plead, "I'll do your paperwork for a month,"

Smiling at you charmingly, Derek purses his lips before gesturing to Spencer. He, like the rest of the team, knows your mixed feelings about Spencer, "you know, I don't think Penny would like me shaking up with you, nor would someone else," he says secretively, before sneaking a glance at Spencer, who's head is buried in a book.

"Please, Morgan, don't flatter yourself," you say, teasingly, smiling at Derek's smirk, "besides, you know he hates me,"

"Reid doesn't hate you, Y/N. And you don't hate him, no matter how much you try to convince me," Derek says, giving you a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, "he'd be lucky to be with someone like you, and you'd be lucky to be with him. No matter how gross it is to imagine two people I see as my little brother and sister, I think in your case, the line between hate and love is a little thin," he says, stretching his stiff arms and legs.

"When did you get so wise?" you ask, hating yourself for wishing you didn't believe his words.

"Penny," he says, as if it's the perfect answer. Because it is.

"Of course," you say, turning on your heel as you follow the rest of the team to the hotel rooms.

***

Spencer was silent as you puttered around the room with your hair in a towel and wearing a men’s Henley that you can’t remember buying. He reads, laying on the bed with his glasses resting on his nose. You haven't said a word since you decided who was getting what bed and even though you tried to convince yourself that you didn't want to talk to him, you knew you were lying. The stupid little dance you to with Spencer is akin to a Catch-22; and you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

"So the case," you start, sitting on Spencer's bed, he wears mismatched socks, one Halloween pumpkins and the other Christmas trees, "it's uh going well," you say, your voice trailing as you fail to hold conversation with him.

"Yeah," Spencer says, not looking up from his book. Angry that he's not paying attention to you, you crawl over, resting on your heels, so you're sitting right next to him. You grab his book, taking it right out of his hands and tossing it on the floor.

"Don't yeah me, Reid. You've been ignoring me the whole time we've been in this room," you say, feeling your face grow hot as Spencer's gaze doesn't falter. His eyes scan over you, and suddenly you’re so conscious of the shirt that hangs off your shoulder and your hair that’s wet and knotted.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask, getting more and more frustrated when his playful look turns into actually annoyance.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Yeah, Reid. What the hell is wrong with you. You always have a snarky little comment to make to me. Maybe it's I drink too much coffee, which is just hilarious coming from you. Or I'm to risky with the unsubs,"

"Y/N, I don't want to hear it," Spencer says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "you're so impossible I just want to scream," he says.

"Spencer, you're the one that just makes it impossible to work with you. I try so hard to get you to like me. I read you stupid books, I watched fucking Dr Who, but you just seem to hate me. We’re going to finish this right now. I can’t keep pretending that I hate you when I love you,” you shout, hating the tremble in your voice.

"What?" Spencer says, unsure, himself of the turn in conversation, "you want me to like you? You love me? he questions, saying the words, but no believing them in the slightest.

"God, you such an idiot, Spencer. I never hated you. I love you so much I hate you. And then I hate you so much I love you,"

"That's not logical, but I love you too and that’s not logical either so, uh" Spencer says, reaching across the bedspread to lace his hand in yours. He squeezes and that's enough for you right now, "I'm sorry that I was being an ass. It's just, uh, it's a little embarrassing and I don't want to say something that will make you feel uncomfortable,"

Suddenly worried that you hurt him, you drop his hand immediately, but hate the cold absence you're left with. You're embarrassed yourself so you shift your weight, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress.

"I'm so sorry, Spence. I don't know what I did. It's just, I'm so used to you giving me shit and when you're not. I think I did something to hurt you. And now I know you like me back and that is just nuts. But if I did something to offend you or make you uncomfortable..You know what I think I'll see if JJ and Em will let me crash on the floor," you say, quickly getting up from the bed to get the hell out of your shared hotel room.

"Don't leave," Spencer says, tugging on your arm, "You didn't do anything, Y/N," he tells you, "It's just, are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?” Spencer asks, smirking when your jaw drops at his slightly lewd question.

"Spencer," you say, "I, uh," you stammer, unsure of this side of Spencer, but curious to see more of him.

"You're wearing my shirt," he explains, reaching out to pull it up your shoulder again, "and it's very hard for me to concentrate when you're wearing my clothes,"

You bring you hands to reach behind his neck, pulling him close into a long awaited kiss. You smile through it, reveling the way his soft lips melt against yours and his glasses press up against your cheeks. Spencer lets out little sighs of something you hope is relief or happiness. The kiss, nervous and shy at first becomes slow and languid. He takes his time kissing you, pressing small touches into your skin, whimpering as you pepper kisses all over his face.

His hands, hovering over you shirt-covered shoulder, the shirt, his shirt, slips down again, but this time Spencer catches it. He doesn’t push it back up, but instead, kisses you bare skin. His lips press words of apology into your skin. All of the times, hundreds of times when he could have been doing this all along. Word of regret, missteps and mistakes, miscommunication and actions misconstrued.

You stop him, standing up and smiling at him in the warm hotel lighting.

"Oh," you say, sitting back down, this time practically on Spencer's lap, "well, I suppose we can fix that by me taking it off," you suggest, throwing the shirt into the middle of the floor with Spencer's book, long forgotten by the pair of you.

[sidespromptblog]

Between the Mask: Part 1

Two, Three, and End

Warnings: Angst (Just general nothing too spicy), mentions of masking to an unhealthy degree, Logan is sad, Janus is sad, Roman is sad, food mention, and miscommunication via the light sides.

Word Count: 3015

Summary: Roman confronts Janus about how exactly Roman should act around him, after being told by the others that both being nice and mean to him is wrong. Only to discover that, after everything he’s been through Janus isn’t the person he portrays in front of everyone else.

AO3 LINK

All of it was driving Roman crazy.

Ever since his most recent interaction with Dece… Janus, the looks that he’d received from the others had slowly been driving him mad. Out of everyone he would have at least expected Virgil to understand where he was coming from, especially considering his seemingly rough behavior around Janus.

But no!

The moment that Patton had told Virgil just how Roman had reacted to the news of Janus’ he might as well have been dead to the anxious side, given the way that he had looked at him upon hearing the exact words that Roman had so carelessly spouted off. The snarl had curled on the anxious sides lips wasn’t one that he was bound to forget for a long time to come, especially when paired with the almost betrayed look that the other side had shot him. Roman got it, he really did. Names weren’t to be made fun of around Virgil, but with all the stress that been piling and piling since the wedding it had kind of...

Slipped out.

He hadn’t meant it, or maybe.. maybe he had. for whatever reason Janus’ mere presence had a way of making the truth slip right out of him without even giving it a second thought.

It was infuriating.

That wasn’t even the worst part, to top it off with Virgil avoiding him like the plague now, Logan virtually wasn’t even around anymore. He barely even saw a glimpse of him in the past week alone, in compared to the landslide of facts that always seemed to flow out of the nerdy side once he had something to show all of them. From the looks of it aside from when he was called into the conversation none of the others had been seeing him all that often either, or when he was just made to come down for dinner Logan was just… gone. In his room not backing Roman up in the slightest bit anymore, leaving him to battle a dying fight with no support.

He honestly didn’t get it anymore.

First they get upset at him for siding with Janus and wanting to give him a chance to speak, and then… Now they want him to be treated as if he hadn’t been a bad guy to begin with. Virgil had hissed at him multiple times, and that’s not even counting the times that Patton and him had screamed at him when he popped up like a little snakey weasel.

He just didn’t get it, it felt like no matter how he tried to resolve the issue he was always heading in the right direction, just at the wrong time when it came to the others.

So he was going to put an end to this turmoil once and for all.

“Deceit!” He practically roared as he slammed the door open more than a little dramatically, “I-“

Whatever words had been on his lips abruptly died all at once.

Whatever he had been expecting from Janus’ room... this most certainly was not it. Whatever cold den of debortuary he had been thinking of, this was definitely not it. The crackling of a warm fireplace surrounded by bookcases full to the brim with old dusty books, who’s spines had been well loved and taken care of. The rug under his feet was shaggy and equally as warm as the air, making Roman’s bare toes sink right into it. For a second he had forgotten just what time it was, as with the atmosphere of Janus’ room it felt almost timeless in a sense. Where it could have been anything from the middle of the night to the early early morning where the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

The drapes were a gorgeous deep maroon color that only served to make the room feel even warmer and cozier.

There wasn’t a single hint of yellow in the entire room.

Was this even Janus’ room?

“I believe,” A familiar voice drawled out from the side, “My name is Janus, not Deceit. Roman.”

Sitting nestled comfortably in a little reading nook was the side in question, a book sprawled out onto his lap and a simple cup of tea on the nightstand next to him and a tiny jar of honey next to it. He looked so.. so cozy sitting there among the fuzzy blankets sprawled all around him, and a pair of reading glasses on the tip of his nose. Had Roman only gotten a glance at him, he would have mistaken him for Logan just based on looks alone. But the coy smile smile said it all, as the mismatched eyes glimmered playfully behind those glasses.

“Well?” Janus stuck a loose bookmark in his book effectively halting his reading, and also showing that all of his attention was directed at Roman and Roman alone. “To what do I owe the please Princey? It is somewhat of a surprise given how our last meeting ended, come for revenge or perhaps just to throw more insults?”

Out of everything Roman was just at a loss, he had felt so sure as to what he was walking into. He was sure that whenever he busted down Janus’ door he’d find some creepy room that would almost certainly match Virgil’s for edginess. To see all this was certainly a surprise for him, if anything it left him feeling absolutely foolish as he once again judged one of the dark sides wrongly and was left to clean up after his incredibly long list of mistakes.

Even with all those thoughts rumbling around in his head it didn’t stop the words that left his mouth, “Are you sure that you’re Janus?” He suspiciously asked, narrowing his eyes at the comfortable looking snake side before him. “You seem too…”

Happy?

Comfortable?

Nice?

Not evil?

There were so many words that Roman wanted to use, and so many words that he didn’t exactly have the name for. He wasn’t exactly Logan, so there was no placing definitions to feelings here.

Not that Logan could help in that capacity even if he wanted to.

“Contrary to popular belief, but... How I act in front of Thomas is not how I am in real life. I do have hobbies and interests outside of your little gaggle of friends you know. You guys don’t exactly take up my every waking thoughts." Janus drawled, as he languidly stirred in a spoonful of honey to his tea before taking a long drawn out sip. “I do have standards.”

The long was more than enough sip for Roman to collect his thoughts.

Mostly he was confused, he hated being confused more than anything. It made him feel like he was back in middle school struggling to grasp the complicated problems that Logan seemingly had no issues with. It made him feel dumb. "So what do you really act like?" He felt like he was being more than a little demanding towards the side who’s time he had interrupted, but after the time he'd had after Janus' had come out with his name... He almost felt like he deserved to be, given the silence that had enveloped him in the past week. "Why act like that in front of Thomas?! Or us for that matter?! Why would you need to-"

"Would you have listened?" Janus' cool but comforting voice stopped him gently, leaving his mouth to gape openly for a moment at the loss of words. "How else was I going to be listened to? And not immediately turned away from all of you? Or worse… just ridiculed?"

And just like that Roman was struck with the sight of Logan's face.

His face with a brilliantly bright smile that had did nothing but dim to a scowl the longer they had been introduced to Thomas. Logan who hadn’t been around since Patton had skipped him, since he had chosen ignorance over whatever Logan was going to say, and since… just everything involving all of them. Logan hadn’t ducked out yet, since Thomas still seemed to be fine. But even if he did there wasn’t anyway for them to know if it would even impact Thomas at all, especially given that he had done it before with the fiasco that was going to Patton’s room.

It had been such a long time since Logan had come to him for Spanish lessons, and even longer since he’s seen Logan smile genuinely.

Logan still hasn't had that astronomy class that he had been promised.

Logan who'd felt the need to change who he was for Thomas.

Logan who had changed for all of them.

Something uncomfortable tugged sharply, like a shard of broken glass, in Roman's chest.

Janus' face was lined with scales and the dark shadows of sleepless nights that should have been avoided. His posture was one of exhausted dignity, that he couldn't even bother to uphold in front of Roman now that the others weren't in sight. He didn't even have his hat or gloves on, letting Roman see the speckling of scales on his hands as well as the scales that receded into his hairline. The smile on his face wasn't one of calculated resourcefulness, but genuineness.

He seemed so... so...

Relaxed.

That uncomfortable feeling tugged again, this time more insistent than before. "It's Thomas' fault?" He asked, not even sure as to what he was even asking about. He didn't want it to be Thomas' fault, but as the saying went.

One was happenstance, but two...

Two was a pattern.

"No no no!" Janus' rushed to quell his worries, hurriedly standing, sending the mountain of blankets into a landslide around his feet. His hands coming quickly to rest over Roman's, without even having to think twice about it. "I don't think he realizes it himself, but like with Virgil... He only listens once the problem gets bad enough. He shouldn't, but... That is the case for now. I'm trying to stop him from doing that." For the first time Janus' lips quirked into a sad looking frown. "No matter how he sees me, it doesn't matter. I just.. I just want to help."

Within an instant, Roman's hands found Janus' once again giving them a great squeeze. His heart felt so heavy and full he was almost scared that it would burst on impact.

Not only had he severely misjudged Janus', but he hasn't noticed the very thing that Janus was trying to help with.

If anything he'd made the problem worse in the beginning.

“Thomas… isn’t ready for the real me yet.” Janus murmured, gazing almost longingly down at Roman’s hands as he gave them a testing squeeze. “I don’t know if he ever will be honestly.”

And just like that, Roman felt the temperature of the room shift a little, getting colder as the warm comforting fire died down a little. As if to coincide with the feelings bottled up in Janus’ heart that couldn’t yet be said, and with the change in temperature Janus reluctantly released Roman’s hands in an effort to snag one of blankets to protect himself from the cold he knew so well. By this point Janus was used to the cold, he’d grown up in it and he’d received plenty of it when he’d made himself known to Thomas and everyone else.

This cold was nothing.

But still watching Janus swaddle himself in blankets in an effort to gather the warmth he had before, was almost heartbreaking.

“Is there.. is there anything that I can do to help?” He began, sounding almost like he was begging. “I can talk to Thomas, or even Patton! We can work something out, I can explain everything to Virgil and he’ll understand!”

Even to his own ears that sounded weak.

They both knew that Virgil was as stubborn as a bull, and had the temper to match when it came to anything involving Janus. The moment that Janus’ name left Roman’s lips he would have nothing to do with it. And Patton… he was still getting used to Janus’ presence, so asking him to do something this big would immediately scare him off for a long time to come, thus further delaying Janus’ plans. Thomas though… Thomas was even more standoffish against Janus being a part of anything, just getting Thomas to relax after the wedding had taken a whole day for Janus to manipulate things into place.

They wouldn’t listen to Janus, let alone Roman after the fight they’d had against one another.

Especially not so soon.

So was it just useless then? Was he just supposed to leave Janus here lying about who he was to everyone in the hopes that one day he’d be accepted enough to come out?

A deep frown tugged at Roman’s lips, “So you’re just going to keep masking around the others? Until what? Where’s the end for you? When will it finally stop? When will you be able to show them this place? Or just show them that you’re not who they fear you to be?”

Who was to say that the moment Janus came out with this, things wouldn’t immediately revert to how they had been before?

What then?

A deep sigh withered whatever spark of hope that Roman had left. “It’s okay Roman,” Janus placatingly told him. “It’s just how it has to be for a little while, and then things will get better… for all of us.”

No.

That was not going to stand.

No matter how comfortable Janus was with this, he didn’t want to be. Had he not stopped to question the back and forth of what exactly the others wanted… he likely would have started twisting himself to fit whatever fashion they wanted in the moment. Changing just so Thomas could be happy for the time being, even if it wasn’t what would benefit Thomas in the long run.

The fire in the room blazed a little brighter.

“No.” Roman sternly said, snapping Janus’ attention from the cover of his book that he had gone back to looking at. “I’m not going to just leave you now that you’ve explained everything. You aren’t happy, even if you’ve told yourself you should be. Just because things are better than they were before, doesn’t mean that it’s okay. It just means that you won’t notice when someone else is treating you wrongly.”

With that having been said, Roman turned on his heel his stomach twisting at the utterly shocked and baffled expression on Janus’ face, before he started marching towards the door.

“Where are you going?!” Came Janus’ bewildered call, the quick pattering of feet telling him that Janus was attempting to catch up quickly.

A hand snagged at his shirt attempting to pull him back into the room before he could leave to who knows where. Turning again though to face Janus at the other side’s question, he felt the other’s face solidly collide with his chest before a pair of hands seized his shirt so to not fall backwards from the impact. But not before the creative side looped his arm around the other’s back giving him a brief but very heartfelt squeeze, holding the dishonest side close enough to share his warmth.

As if that alone would stop all of his worries.

Roman treasured that one little second of contact.

“I’m going to get Logan, and were all going to talk like civilized people. We’re going to apologize to each other, and then…” Here Roman paused, taking in the look on Janus’ face. “We’re going to see what we can do to ensure that nobody gets hurt like we have in the past.”

Whatever cool relaxed composure Janus had before, it was gone, as he stared up at the creative side with what felt like a mixture between awe and shock. Out of everything that he had expected to come from Roman’s mouth when he had busted into his room, this.. this was not it. Sure he had expected shouting and yelling, but nothing like this.

A little blossom of pride bloomed within Janus’ chest.

His arms had no trouble finding their way back around Roman, pulling him in for another and much lengthier hug, relishing the warmth that came with it. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before,” Janus mumbled into Roman’s chest, a giddy smile tugging at his lips as he stood on the tips of his toes. “But… you’re really smart. You know that?”

Roman was absolutely sure that he was going to cry now.

Seizing the back of Janus’ shirt, the only thing he could do was hug him tighter. “I think you could mention it a little more often.” He teased, a wet laugh leaving him as the creative side tried to hastily blink away his tears.

He could get used to this Janus.

After what felt like an eternity he pried himself away from Janus, hastily swiping his hands under his eyes before Janus could see the liquid that had started to run down his cheeks. “I’m going to go and get Logan,” He finally settled on, “I’m pretty sure that he needs help, even if he hasn’t said it. He hasn’t exactly been leaving his room lately, and I’m sure its due to how we’ve all been treating him, and how we’ve reacted in the past when his emotions get to be too much for him.” The guilt that tugged at his chest was less painful than it had been before, but still just as present. “I think he needs a hero.”

Janus only nodded, taking a step back into his room. The hearth was blazing behind him, Roman could feel the warmth radiating outwards even from where he was standing a good couple of feet away from the door.

He had brightened up Janus’ spirits towards the present as well as the future, just as he was supposed to do as the epitome of passion. The bright warm smile from the other side told him as such.

“Then go be a hero, Princey.”

[charlotte-headcanons]

Thank you for answering my first ask 🙇‍♀️. If it's okay i would ask a secound prompt on both Katakuri & Cracker again. Aloe, Daffodil, Hydran, Poeny and Willow

Hello there friend! Thanks for asking again 💕 Of course, we're happy to provide! With this post, we wrap up answering the botanical prompts too: we'll get to the questions from the next headcanon game soon! ✨

CW: Death, depression, bad coping habits, self-harm

Aloe: How does your muse handle grief?

As we kind of already described before, grieving Katakuri is basically... Katakuri reacting to the Brulee incident on steroids. On the outside, he shuts down emotionally, overworks himself, and generally sets on never letting something like this happen again. Inside, though, he's heartbroken, and blames himself a lot: even if someone's death was not even remotely his fault. He only opens up when visiting the deceased person's grave alone, pretty much: it is through these visits that he is still able to cope somehow.

Cracker's grief means violence and destruction: to inanimate objects, towards others, and to himself. He copes with unfamiliar emotions by replacing tham with anger: and thus, you can a expect a lot of vase-breaking, furniture-smashing, violent annihilations of entire islands, or (to a degree) self-harm in the form of throwing himself at walls. Obviously, none of this really helps. Cracker...well, let's just say he's not great at coping with grief... In the slightest.

Daffodil: Is your muse one to be loyal in relationships, or are they likely to quickly move from one bond to another ?

Katakuri is extremely loyal to every family member, good friend, and casual friend he makes. He never ghosts anyone, never forgets their existence or their birthday (if he knows it), and never moves on: rather, he accumulates bonds with people, even if most of them don't know him beyond his public persona. There is a reason for why he's so liked and that is that despite being so perfect and popular, it's hard to envy him: he doesn't dismiss anyone or look from above at anyone at all!

Cracker is too isolated and too introverted to live a lifestyle of quickly moving from one bond to another. It's not that he's uber-loyal; however, as his friends and love interests can probably be counted on the fingers of one hand, he is kind of stuck with them lest he wants to be lonely forever.

Hydrangea: How much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others? Are they prone to being misunderstood?

Katakuri is generally a great communicator. He doesn't say much, but what he says is always meaningful. He doesn't really ever blurt out stuff, he thinks about what he wants to say before saying it, and so, miscommunication is rare. The only exception has to do with communicating his needs and wants. That one... He's really, really bad at and he considers it to be no one's business.

Unlike him, Cracker blurts out a lot of random bullshit at any given moment and often speaks before thinking. He's often too blunt and rude in what he says, often miscommunicates due to anger blinding him, or avoids communicating at all if he doesn't like you. As a result, he constantly gets into unnecessary arguments and wouldn't be too great of a leader; he just cannot forward information without fucking up.

Peony: What would a ‘happy life’ look like in your muse’s eyes?

Katakuri dreams of a life in which he would be able to... Have a clone. Weird one, I know. But it's just that... He knows how much is expected of him and how much the happiness and safety of his siblings depends upon him. He also knows that he, regardless of what they think, is imperfect and cannot handle it. With a perfect clone to perform all tasks expected from him, to always be there for everyone, and never disappoint... Katakuri would be able to finally, finally rest, lay down, and enjoy donuts whenever without the overwhelming guilt.

Cracker is a simple man and one lazy ass. All he dreams of is not ever having to work, not having to do anything, and being provided for. In this fantasy, lack of pain would be a much appreciated addition, and so would the constant presence and attention from his three favorite siblings and 1-2 husbands that'd be exactly his type.

Willow: How does your muse handle sadness & depression?

Deep down, Katakuri is unhappy almost constantly. His meriendas make him feel a bit better, but he doesn't really... Escape into relaxing when depressed. Instead, to calm down the self-doubts and dissatisfaction with life, he tries to only work harder, believing that eventually, if he helps enough, if he shows to others and himself how useful he can be, self-worth and happiness will come to him. Obviously, though, they never do: so he's just stuck in this endless vicious cycle, lucky enough that he didn't get a horrible, debilitating burnout just yet.

Cracker's way of living - locking himself up in the armor, isolating, not getting enough fresh air or sunlight, having a bad diet - makes him particularly prone to developing mood disorders. When he was younger, dysphoria made it all even worse, too. When dealing with sadness or depression, as he does with grief, Cracker...tends to lash out. When he's unhappy, he walks around like a ticking bomb: any slightest nudge can make him erupt and yell at someone for really petty reasons, as if his mood was their fault. Again, not a great way to handle stuff. The spectrum of emotions is broader than just anger, Cracky-boy! 😔

Thank you for the ask! Hope you enjoyed 💕

[wherever-the-chaos-is]

Lan Wangji’s communication skills and other misunderstandings

I think Lan Wangji is good at talking and can express himself well. But he restrains himself from speaking his mind and his heart for various reasons or would prefer to express his intentions through action. Just because he’s quiet and introverted, doesn’t mean he’s bad at communicating.

I know there’s already a post explaining how Lan Wangji’s speech works in Chinese in terms of syntax and pragmatics, and I think that this can be translated well in English (or in other languages). To be able to pack as much meaning in as few words as possible and to be able to adjust your speech according to the receiver are such huge signs of intelligence, wit, and skill in any language, which is something Lan Wangji is able to accomplish.

Some of my favorite descriptions related to Lan Wangji’s way of expressing himself are the following:

Chapter 73:

"Lan WangJi rarely spoke when he was outside. Even when they debated cultivation techniques during Discussion Conferences, he only answered when others questioned or challenged him. With utmost concision, he overcame, without fault, the lengthy arguments of others. Apart from this, he almost never spoke up."

Chapter 120:

"It definitely wasn’t out of cutting corners that Lan WangJi’s comments were short. He wouldn’t slack off in the slightest way, no matter how simple the task was. Rather, it was his habit to be as concise as possible, no matter in words or writing." 

Chapter 94:

"Looking at him, Wei WuXian felt a place in his heart go soft. He also thought it was funny. This one’d been like this ever since he was young. When he wanted something, he never said anything on the surface, but rather chased after it as much as he could in his actions."

Chapter 64:

Wei WuXian, “If he doesn’t wish to talk about something then I won’t ask.”

Lan XiChen, “But, with WangJi’s personality, how could he say anything if you do not ask? There are some things that even if you ask him he would not say.”

Chapter 126:

Wei WuXian, “That’s more like it. Just say it if you want some. You’ve really been like this ever since you were young, holding everything in and never saying what you want.”

In chapters 54 and 55, Lan Wangji talks so much after having been pushed to his physical and mental limits, answering Wei Wuxian’s remarks in anger and frustration. Lan Wangji also talks at length when he tells a story or relays information like when he tells the public version of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, and Xue Yang’s story in Chapter 29 and when he tells Wei Wuxian all about the Xuanwu of Slaughter also in chapters 54 and 55 (Seriously, go read those chapters. I can’t even quote it because Lan Wangji talks a lot and they have probably their longest conversations in the book in those chapters.)

Lan Wangji is also perceptive enough to know when he will not be understood the way he intends and can adjust himself well. 

Chapter 74:

Lan WangJi, “Speech is forbidden when dining.”

For Wen Yuan to understand, he repeated it again using simpler language, “Do not talk when you are eating.”

Wen Yuan quickly nodded and buried himself in the soup, not saying anything anymore.

When he is nervous, he can get a bit tongue-tied like the average person:

Chapter 111:

Lan WangJi stared straight at him. Something strange glowed in his eyes. He started, “Then…”

Wei WuXian, “Then what? Stopping in the middle of the sentence isn’t your style, Lan Zhan.”

To offer some comparison, Wei Wuxian who is even wittier, more verbose and just generally more talkative, also gets tongue-tied when nervous:

Chapter 95:

The surging heat finally began to retreat. Wei WuXian’s head was still dizzy as he rambled on, “In these two lives, you’ve helped me a lot. I know you’re… really nice to me. You’re really great! Apart from thank you, I don’t know what else to say to you… Anyways, towards you, I feel… I feel…”

But this wasn’t the point at all. Wei WuXian had never confessed like this to anyone before. Even someone whose face was as thick as his felt a bit embarrassed. He could only first pick a few random things to say. Just as he was thinking how to explain himself to make it sound sincere and serious when Lan WangJi suddenly pushed him away.

But once he is comfortable with someone or when his reasons for restraining himself are gone, he will speak his mind and heart. We can see this when he freely talks to Lan Xichen about the things Wei Wuxian has shared with him in Chapter 125. He can also be witty and a bit sassy, especially in the present time, as we can see everytime he throws Wei Wuxian’s words back at him or even makes subtle digs at Wei Wuxian:

Chapter 21:

After a few moments, the strings played two notes on their own. Wei WuXian quickly asked, “What did it say?”

Lan WangJi, “I do not know.”

Wei WuXian, “What?”

Lan WangJi replied in an unhurried manner, “It said, ‘I do not know’.”

“…” Wei WuXian looked at him, suddenly remembering a conversation about “whatever” a few years ago. Touching his nose, he was at a loss for words, and thought, Lan Zhan is so bright. He even learned how to make me speechless.

Chapter 25:

Suddenly, one of Lan WangJi’s arms wrapped around his back and, as Lan WangJi bent down slightly, another went toward the back of his knees.

[...] Carrying him, Lan WangJi both walked and replied to him steadily, “You said that you didn’t want to be carried on my back.”

Wei WuXian, “I didn’t say that I wanted to be carried like this either.”

Chapter 45:

Wei WuXian was also shocked. He turned to Lan WangJi, “Your sect makes disciples do handstands while copying? That’s awful.”

Lan WangJi replied calmly, “There would always be someone who did not learn their lessons by simply copying the sect rules. Handstands not only guaranteed better performance in the future but also benefited cultivation.”

Of course, Wei WuXian was the someone who never learnt his lessons. He pretended as though he didn’t know what Lan WangJi was talking about. (Chapter 45)

. He can even be smooth as shown in Chapter 126:

“Be honest about whether or not you thought about me in the same way.” In a solemn tone, he spoke, “Rejecting me like that so coldly every single time—it really made me lose face, don’t you know?”

Lan WangJi, “You can try, now, to see if I would reject you over anything.”

The sentence so suddenly struck his heart. Wei WuXian choked, yet Lan WangJi was still as calm as ever, as though he didn’t at all realize what he just said. Wei WuXian put his hand to his forehead, “You… HanGuang-Jun, let’s make a deal. Please warn me before you say something so romantic, or else I won’t be able to take it.”

Regarding his feelings for Wei Wuxian, apart from that moment in the cave after the Nightless City massacre, I don’t think he ever intended for Wei Wuxian to know his feelings since Wei Wuxian already told him he was straight (Chapter 54: "Don’t worry—I don’t like men, I won’t take advantage of the opportunity and do anything to you.”) and then kept giving him mixed signals wherein Wei Wuxian would flirt with him but then pass it off as a joke. Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian did not remember that one time Lan Wangji wanted Wei Wuxian know how he felt, which causes much of their misunderstanding in the present.

I would also like to point out that Wangxian didn't really have a miscommunication during that time as Wei Wuxian would acknowledge Lan Wangji's concern and basically go "Thanks, but no thanks. You’re wrong and I have everything under control." In fact, they actually reach an understanding in this conversation in Chapter 75:

A moment later, Wei WuXian spoke up, “Lan Zhan, you asked me if I intended on staying like this from now on. To be honest, I’d like to ask something as well. What can I do apart from this?”

He continued, “Give up the demonic path? Then what about the people on this mountain?

“Give them up? I won’t be able to do it. I believe that if you were I, you wouldn’t be able to do it either.”

He continued, “Nobody can give me a nice, broad road to walk on. A road where I could protect those I want to protect without having to cultivate the ghostly path.”

Lan WangJi gazed at him. He didn’t reply, but both of them knew the answer in their hearts.

There was no such road.

Look how smooth he is after he and Wei Wuxian got married. He finally knows and feels that he can freely express his love to Wei Wuxian in words, and he does just that in his elegant manner of speech

We can see here that Wei Wuxian has made his decision and all Lan Wangji could do is to respect it as a mere outsider in Wei Wuxian’s life.

In the present time, they have a misunderstanding but it is not borne from the lack of ability to express themselves. Rather, it is due to Wei Wuxian's impaired memory. Add to that the fact that Wei Wuxian has already made assumptions about Lan Wangji that are actually not completely true as we are shown throughout the novel. At this point also, Lan Wangji has already been rejected and pushed away many times and is under the impression that Wei Wuxian already knows his true feelings.

In conclusion, Lan Wangji can express himself well. It’s just that he’s quiet and prefers action over words. Communication or expressing one’s self is more than just the skill of being able to put your thoughts and feelings into words. There’s plenty of other reasons why someone might not be saying something. Conflicts in the novel are much more complex and aren’t just because of mere miscommunication or inability to talk and express themselves properly. Not all problems are resolved in a way that both parties unite and end up on the same side. Differences in judgments and views happen and the only resolution is just to agree to disagree.

[yellowcanna]

The ZhongXiao Alliance

Summary:

“You requested the bard to get you porn?” Diluc questioned with a skeptical look on his face.

“No!” Aether shouted, waving his hands frantically in front of him. “It’s for…for Paimon!”

“WHAT?!” Paimon screamed off the top of her lungs before spinning around to see the pair of crimson eyes narrowing at her while the blue one twinkled with amusement. 

"So he says." Kaeya gestured to the Honourary Knight.

“No! Paimon would never read these kinds of things! It’s adeptus Xiao!!”

“An adeptus from Liyue want you two to get porn?” The disbelief in the tavern owner’s voice was clear.

“This is all for Morax’s sake!” Venti pipped up from behind Aether, as if that would make the situation any better. 

“Oh? Morax?” The Cavalry Captain raised a brow. "So it is the Geo Archon that wanted the porn?” 

Aether buried his face into his hands. He should have never taken up on Xiao's request. No, before that, he shouldn't have taken Zhongli's request. 

This whole mess started when Zhongli confessed to Xiao in the wrong order, starting with sex.

Now, it's up to one traveller, one emergency food, and one bard to make things right...by getting Xiao a guide to sexual intercourse.

Rating: 18+

Genre: Mutual pining, comedy, miscommunication, romantic fluff, smut, yaoi

Pairing: Main Zhongli/Xiao, side Aether/Venti, hint of Kaeya/Diluc and Xingqiu/Chongyun

Story type: Multi-chapter

Beta’d by: Amberowl123

中文 Chinese Translation available by: Yejet

╔ ✦✧✦ ═════════════╗

Available on AO3!!

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                             MAIN                 NEXT ▻

    CHAPTER 1 - ZhongXiao Alliance, Dispatch!

   The Guardian Yaksha does not dream.

Perhaps it was his punishment for devouring the dreams of so many innocent people, but Xiao never dreamed—not since the Archon War. Even sleep was something he did scarcely. Whenever he closed his eyes, all that came was the painful memories that haunted him even to this day.

Xiao had just returned to Guili Plains after the battle with Osial when a weird drowsiness crept up to him. Instead of fighting it, he simply closed his eyes and welcomed the sensation. When he opened his eyes once more, he was standing above the clouds with the sunset sky surrounding him.

Standing before him, was a man with long raven hair tied behind his back and eyes in the colour of Cor Lapis. This was a form that Xiao had not seen in many, many years. It was the Geo Archon’s real form—the form he always used during the war.

“My lord,” Xiao bowed deeply.

“Xiao,” Rex Lapis smiled warmly at him. “It seems you’ve already figured out.”

“I had my suspicions when I saw the Sigil of Permission.” Xiao explained calmly. “It was perfectly replicated, but the power imbued within was different than yours. The Sigil of Permission has not appeared in many centuries, it’s unthinkable for it to suddenly appear right after Rex Lapis' death, let alone one so perfectly replicated that even the adepti were fooled.”

“And that is how you knew of my plans and went along with it…” The raven-haired man let out a deep chuckle. “I expected nothing less from you.”

Xiao hesitated before straightening and stared into the archon’s gentle eyes. Every time Xiao saw those eyes, he couldn’t help but remember how they once looked during the Archon War. Back then, Rex Lapis was ruthless towards his enemies, sealing gods one after another with his mighty spear. His eyes were cold, reflecting only little warmth for those who he called friends and comrades. During that time, there was no room for gentleness or compassion.

It was a time of kill or be killed.

However, as the years went by, Xiao was keenly aware that every time they met, the hardness in his archon’s eyes would soften little by little—like the sharp edges of rock being smoothed by the waves known as time.

“Was the result to your satisfactory, my lord?”

“Yes.” The archon folded his hands behind his back. “And there is no more need for formality, Xiao. Rex Lapis is now a thing of the past. With the death of Rex Lapis, all have come to an end.”

Xiao stiffened and his cat-like eyes dilated even further. “My lord…I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Xiao, the age of adepti is over,” Rex Lapis said, gaze softening at the Yaksha that had been by his side for so long. “Your duty as the Conqueror of Demons has been fulfilled. You have witnessed it yourself, have you not? The people of Liyue no longer need the protection of the adepti.”

Xiao didn’t speak. While he couldn’t deny that, he also couldn’t accept being told his duty was fulfilled like this.

If so, then what else was he good for…?

“Xiao.”

A hand touched his cheek and Xiao felt a weird flutter within his gut. Despite being a dream, the hand felt warm even through the black leather glove. He let the hand guide his head up and was startled by how close they were. If this was not a dream, Xiao was certain he would be able to feel the god’s breath on his face.

“I wish for you to lay with me.”

Xiao’s jaw fell slack. His pure yellow eyes stared at his archon’s serious face, yet despite his shock, he still mustered the ability to answer.

“Ah…yes.”

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“…Yes? Yes?!” Paimon squawked. She and Aether sat across the archon by the name of Zhongli, both of them staring at him with their mouths wide open. “Just like that?!”

“Yes?” Zhongli answered, setting down the cup of tea he was sipping on.

“Wait, wait, hold on! Did you just…did you just ask Adeptus Xiao to—!!” Paimon wasn’t able to finish since she bit her tongue in her rush to get the words out. She was jumping up and down in midair, hands slapped over her mouth with a pained expression twisting her face.

Aether quickly handed her a napkin before glancing back to the funeral parlour consultant. “Uh, Zhongli…” he began, still trying to wrap his head around what the god had just told them. “You and Adeptus Xiao are dating?”

“Dating?” Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion. It took him a while to understand what that word meant. “You are referring to courtship?”

“Courtship?”

“For adepti, our relationships work differently than humans. We do not undergo dating as mortals call it.”

“Is there a difference?” The blond blinked.

“For adepti, we choose our partners based on compatibility. We imbue our power within an item and give it to the party we are interested in. The other party will then choose whichever gift they felt is compatible to them. Once they accept a gift, it means they are willing to become a pair with the sender.”

“So…what you’re saying is when they accept a gift, then they're pretty much married?!” Paimon gaped.

“Well, that is one way to put it, though there are ceremonies needed to be performed in order to complete courtship…”

“Have you and Adeptus Xiao performed the ceremony?” Aether inquired.

“Regretfully, we have not.” Zhongli sighed. “Due to my responsibilities as the Geo Archon, there were many things I am unwilling to tie Xiao down to. Even if I didn’t ask, he will still take on my burden as his own, and that is not something I wish to see. I want nothing but for him to live freely so I told him to wait until the time of Rex Lapis is no more.”

“And now that you’re not Rex Lapis anymore, you’re going to tie the knot!” Paimon was finally able to put everything together.

The corner of Aether’s lips twitched at his travel companion’s words. Would asking someone to go to bed with them be considered tying the knot? Retorts aside, Aether was happy for both Zhongli and Xiao. While Aether may not know Xiao as much, the way Zhongli’s features soften when he spoke of the Yaksha showed just how much he loved the other.

“Which is why I like your help, as unfortunately, I am inexperienced in such a field.” Zhongli looked up at the pair. “I am lost as to what gifts I should prepare, so I hope I could ask you for suggestions.”

“Aren’t you two together? How could you not know what he likes?!” Paimon looked at the man with judging eyes.

Zhongli smiled softly, not the slightest bit offended by Paimon’s words. “You are right. That is a fault on my end.”

“Uh…Paimon didn’t mean anything by that,” Aether hurriedly said while nudging his floating companion.

“What? Paimon didn’t say anything wrong!”

“Paimon!”

“It’s alright,” Zhongli chuckled, looking directly at the blond. “Can I trouble you to find out what Xiao likes for me? I would ask him myself, but he may become suspicious if I do.”

“I don’t mind, but wouldn’t it also be suspicious if we seek him out just to ask what he likes?” Aether brought up this issue worriedly.

As though waiting for him to say that, Zhongli reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, setting it on the table. “You can tell him that I asked you to deliver this to him. Oh…and Paimon, please don’t eat it.”

“Hey! What do you take Paimon for?!” Paimon snapped, cheeks puffing in anger.

“What is this?” Aether took the bag and smelled the strong scent of medicine coming from the pouch.

“It is painkillers.”

“Painkiller?” Aether’s golden eyes widened at the pouch in his hand, then to Zhongli. “Is he hurt?”

“No, but at times he suffers from pain that can only be eased by this medicine. You can find Xiao at Guili Plains. Call his name and he will come to you.”

Aether nodded, not asking anymore on the painkillers and put it into his bag. With that, the two outlanders set out to Guili Plains.

The trip took half a day, but they managed to arrive by sunset. They found a nice meadow free from monsters and people before Aether sucked in a deep breath and shouted Xiao’s name at the top of his lungs.

He didn’t even finish screaming out the last syllable when a gust of wind nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Enough. I can hear you just fine without your hollering,” a familiar cold voice spoke from behind.

When Aether turned around, he was greeted by the sight of the green-haired adeptus, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his face perfectly neutral without an ounce of emotion.

“Adeptus Xiao!” Aether smiled happily.

“It’s been a while!” Paimon waved. Ever since they fought together against Osial, Paimon’s image of the aloof adeptus had greatly improved.

“So it has,” Xiao acknowledged before his eyes shifted to Aether. He tilted his head by a fraction, yellow eyes scanning over the blond like a curious cat. “You have something for me.” The words that came from his mouth wasn’t a question, but a firm statement.

“Oh, yes!” Aether reached into his backpack and pulled out the medicine from Zhongli. “We were told to deliver this to you. And also, thank you for saving my life back then, Adeptus Xiao.”

“You were aiding us in the battle to protect Liyue, it is only natural,” Xiao replied, taking the bag of medicine. He stared at the pouch for a long time, seeming to be thinking over something before speaking in a quiet tone. “Did Rex…did that person tell you to relay anything to me?”

“You mean Zhongli?” Aether asked.

“Zhongli…I see, so that is the name he is using now,” Xiao mumbled.

Aether thought Xiao looked a bit off just now, but this was also a good chance for him to start a conversation. “So Adeptus Xiao, since you and Zhongli are together, what—”

“What?” Xiao’s head instantly snapped up, eyes dilated as they locked dangerously on the blond. “Who told you such preposterous thing?!” He snarled, looking as though he was ready to rip whoever that spoke those words to shreds.

“Wait! Wait! C-calm down!” Paimon panicked. “We didn’t mean anything by that!”

“Y-yeah!” Aether quickly tried to back track. He didn’t know why Xiao was suddenly so angry, but he needed to hurry and calm the situation. “I thought maybe you two are, considering—”

“Considering Zhongli asked you to sleep with him!” Paimon finished for Aether who wanted to shove an entire Sticky Honey Roast into her mouth so she couldn’t speak for a while. He was going to put it in a better way, but she went ahead and said it straight out like this!

Thankfully, Xiao had swiftly collected himself again and the pressuring aura around him faded away.

“I don't know how much you know of him," the adeptus began, "but he was the one who freed me from my suffering and bestowed the name Xiao upon me. Disrespect him again and there will not be a next time."

Disrespect?

Aether wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he knew it was best not to bring it up at the moment. If it came down to a fight, he was no match against the adeptus with his current powers.

“Then…you two…?” Aether trailed off, carefully eyeing Xiao in case he blew up again.

“I am simply chosen to be his bed partner, that’s all there is to it,” Xiao replied impassively, turning his head away to stare off into the distance.

“…Huh?” Aether and Paimon echoed at the same time, staring dumbfounded at the adeptus.

This…wasn’t what they were told?!

“Bed…partner?” Paimon gaped. “But Zhongli—hmph!”

Paimon struggled against the iron hold Aether had over her with one arm wrapping around her torso and the other firmly covering that big mouth of hers.

“What is it?” Xiao asked, lifting his eyes to look at them.

“Nothing!” Aether did his best to pull off a smile. “Paimon just ate something bad, don’t mind her.”

“…I see,” Xiao looked away again. It was either he didn’t notice their strange behaviour or didn’t care—it was quite obviously the latter. “Please tell him that I still need some more time. Allow me to have a week to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” The blond didn’t know why, but he was suddenly getting a really bad feeling of all this. Xiao was clearly misunderstanding something here…or perhaps the one who misunderstood was Zhongli?

Either way, these two were obviously not on the same page.

Aether’s head was hurting from trying to put together the pieces of this situation. Weren’t Zhongli and Xiao dating, or court-shipping if that was even the right word? Why was Xiao talking as though he was just chosen to become Zhongli’s sex partner?

“Traveller, I would like to ask for your help.” Xiao suddenly said. “Naturally, I will compensate you for your trouble.”

“There’s no need for that! If it’s anything I could do, I’ll be glad to help!” The blond waved his hands in front of him—dropping Paimon in the process. The little fairy, pixie, dwarf—whatever she was��hit the ground with a pained cry before flying back up and shooting Aether a resentful look.

The blond secretly gave her an apologetic glance.

“I need you to gather twenty wild Cecilias,” Xiao requested, ignoring the two’s not so subtle interactions.

“Cecilia? From Mondstadt?” Aether and Paimon shared a look. Neither of them expects that Xiao would ask them to get anything from another nation.

“Yes.” There was a moment of pause before Xiao began to explain. “I would go there myself, but as an adeptus that once served Rex Lapis, I cannot cross into the other nation without the permission from the archon of that land.”

“I’m sure that tone-deaf—er, I mean the Anemo Archon! I’m sure he would mind though?” Paimon said.

“It's not a matter of whether the Anemo Archon would mind, but a matter of rules and regulations.” Xiao said sternly—as one would expect from a follower of the God of Contracts.

“That’s no problem. We were planning on visiting Mondstadt anyway.” Aether smiled.

“You have my gratitude,” Xiao turned to leave when he recalled something else. “There…is one other thing I want you to find for me.”

“What is it?” Aether asked and watched as Xiao pulled out a small bag. From the jingling sound inside, it was a bag of Mora.

“Oh! I knew you were different, Adeptus Xiao!” Paimon cheered, quickly taking the Mora from Xiao before Aether could.

“I want you to find a book,” Xiao explained. “I know little of Mora’s worth, if there’s not enough, come back to find me.”

“Of course! We’re more than happy to help!” Paimon weighted the Mora and was delighted by how heavy the bag was.

“Where did you get the Mora from?” Aether inquired. He didn’t mean anything when he asked this. It was out of pure curiosity because of all the gods he knew so far, all of them were broke, including the one who created Mora. The blond also highly doubted that Xiao would have a job considering that he was an adeptus who disliked mingling with humans.

“I got it from some Treasure Hoarders around the area,” was the response.

Aether sweatdropped at the thought of the adeptus beating up the Treasure Hoarders and robbing them of their wallets. No matter how he thought of it, there was something off about that image…

“Then that means it’s free Mora!” Paimon obviously didn’t share the same concern as Aether. “We happen to have a lot of connections with people who know a lot about books! What book are you looking for?”

“I need a book that teaches sexual intercourse.”

CLANG

The bag of Mora was dropped to the ground, creating a jingle of sound. The two stared at Xiao, wondering if they had heard his words properly. Surely Xiao didn’t say he needed a book about…

“Wha…what did you say?” Paimon laughed nervously while scratching the back of her head.

“I need a book that can teach me sex—”

“Okay, okay, we know what you need!” Aether frantically stopped the adeptus. “But um…why do you need that?”

“Rex—…my lord requested me to be his bed partner, but I have neither experience nor knowledge.” Xiao gritted his teeth as though it was something he should be frustrated over. Moreover, it was amazing he could say something like that with a straight face. “Since he called for me to become his partner, I cannot taint my body with anyone else to practice…”

“No, even if it didn’t matter you shouldn’t sleep around for something like that!” Aether instantly cut off the Yaksha’s dangerous thoughts.

“That’s right!” Paimon agreed, also extremely worried now. “Do you even know what Zhongli is asking you?”

“Of course.” The adeptus’ fine brows furrowed. He didn’t seem happy by Paimon’s question which was basically doubting whether or not he understood his archon’s intention. “Since he has summoned me to his bed, it is only natural that I am able to provide pleasure to him.”

“No, you’re getting it all wrong!” Aether tried to explain, but Xiao’s mind was already set.

“Once you find the items, I will meet you back here.” With that, he vanished in a flash of green light.

The two outlanders stared at the empty place where the adeptus once was, then to the bag of Mora lying on the ground.

Neither of them spoke the entire journey back to Liyue Harbour, fearing that the adeptus would overhear their conversation. It was only after they crossed through the gate and into the mass of people populating the city that they dared to speak.

“We have to find Zhongli! This is his entire fault! What courting?! They’re not even together at all!” Paimon shouted. She continued her rant, but soon noticed the lack of reaction from her travel companion.

“Aether? Aether!” Paimon shook the blond until he snapped out of thought and looked up to her.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Let’s hurry and find Zhongli!” Paimon urged.

“Hmm…but don’t you think it’s weird?” Aether wondered out loud. “How could two people have such different perspectives on their relationships?”

“That’s why we need to find Zhongli! C’mon! He should be at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

Aether nodded absentmindedly, thinking back to Xiao’s behaviour then to Zhongli’s. He recalled how happy Zhongli was and even though Xiao reacted negatively, that was only because he thought it was an insult to Zhongli.

While Aether wasn’t good at telling Xiao’s mood, the adeptus had stood there and spoke to them for a full fifteen minutes. Considering their previous interactions, the blond would say he was in a very good mood—some issues aside. That meant despite being troubled over Zhongli’s request, he was happy, right?

Though Aether had a feeling that happiness might be the fact that Rex Lapis asked something of him, not the detail of what was being asked.

Paimon was right. There was clearly a misunderstanding and they needed to tell Zhongli, but…

“No, let’s hold off on that.”

“What?!” Paimon looked at Aether like he was crazy. “But—”

“Let’s wait until we talk to Xiao again.”

With the situation of Stanley and Havria, Aether realized just how lonely these gods really were. If they tell this to Zhongli right now, there was no doubt that the archon would be crushed. If possible, he wanted to find a way for them to be happy. If he could talk to Xiao properly and let the adeptus understand the real situation, then maybe there wouldn’t be a need to tell Zhongli anymore.

“…Alright then.” Paimon agreed reluctantly. “But…where will we find that book?”

Aether stop in his track, face burning in red and the bag of Mora which was clutched in his hand felt unusually heavy.

“Looking for a book, my liege?” A voice suddenly called out to them, startling the two.

Aether spun around and was met by a familiar face he hadn’t seen for a while.

“Xingqiu!” The blond gasped, shoving the bag of Mora behind his back out of reflex before remembering there was no way anyone could tell what he was planning on buying with just this.

The teal-haired youth was standing there with a smile gracing his lips and a light blue parasol in his hands. “If you are looking for a book, I might be able to offer my assistance.”

“N-no, that’s alright!” Aether shouted, voice cracking in his panic.

“Yeah! It’s f-fine! We ugh…gotta go!” Paimon squeaked.

With that, the pair ran/flew off, leaving Xingqiu alone in the middle of the street, staring at their retreating forms.

“X-Xingqiu…”

“Ah, Chongyun!” Xingqiu turned to see his friend finally coming out of the old antique store. “Did you find it?”

“Yeah…” Chongyun hesitantly held up a book that was wrapped up in brown paper. His face was flushed in pink and he squirmed uncomfortably. Xingqiu kindly opened the parasol and held it over the boy’s head, blocking the strong afternoon light for him.

“I-if I read this out loud, w-will this really make that rumoured lecherous spirit to appear?”

“But of course!” Xingqiu said cheerfully before his face dropped into sadness. “Do you doubt me, dear Chongyun?”

“No, of course not!” Chongyun hastily replied, face burning even more. “B-but I—”

“Then let us go search for that evil spirit!” Xingqiu happily guided Chongyun away while desperately trying to stifle the urge to laugh…

On the other side of the city, Aether and Paimon were standing below the Adventurers' Guild, trying to catch their breaths when another voice called out to them.

“Hey! Over here!!”

They looked up to see Xiangling sticking her head out from Wanmin Restaurant and waving at them. Guoba was there too, peeking its head from behind the door frame.

“Xiangling!” Aether went over to greet the girl. “It’s been a while, how are you?”

“Couldn’t be better! I just got these new ingredients and I’ve been dying to try them out! How about a meal? I’ll give you a special discount!”

At the mention of a meal and the smell of food, the two were reminded how they hadn’t had anything since morning. They agreed and Xiangling immediately went to work and prepared a hearty meal for them. After finishing the delicious food, Aether finally asked the question he had been pondering over the entire lunch on how to ask.

“By the way, Xiangling…do you uh, know any place that sells books?”

“Books? If it’s books, Wanwen Bookhouse got lots,” Xiangling answered, stacking up the plates.

“Ah, no, I mean…uh…” Aether’s face burned, unable to continue on.

After weakly agreeing to go to Wanwen Bookhouse, he and Paimon left the restaurant with the promise to drop by another time. There was no way they could go to Wanwen Bookhouse, so Aether wandered around the town, looking at the shops yet none of them looked like they would sell the book he was looking for…

“Oof…!” Aether was so busy looking at the shops that he didn’t see the person in front of him until he walked right into him. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!”

“That’s quite alright,” the man replied, and it was yet another voice Aether was familiar with. He smelled the scent of herbs and medicines before he looked up and saw the man who had an albino snake wrapped around his neck.

“Mr. Baizhu!”

“We meet again, dear customer.” Baizhu smiled down at him.

“What are you two doing snooping around?” The white snake asked, forked tongue darting out to taste the scent of the two outlanders.

“W-we’re not snooping!” Paimon shouted defensively.

“Relax, Changsheng was just making a joke.” Baizhu chuckled while patting the head of his snake. “Though you seem to be looking for something. I can help you if you like—”

“No, that’s fine, thank you very much!” Aether shouted before dashing off with Paimon in tow.

The man and snake watched the pair disappear down the street, confusion apparent on both of their faces.

“This is impossible!” Paimon cried after they stopped for a break at another corner of the city. No matter where they went, they kept encountering familiar faces. “How are we supposed to find anything for Xiao like this?!”

“That Xiao you speak of, could you be referring to the boy-adeptus?” A voice called from behind them.

Aether wasn’t even surprised at this point anymore. He glanced over his shoulder to see a purple-haired girl standing behind them with one hand on her hips and a bag in her other hand.

“Keqing?” Paimon looked as though she was going to cry—and those were not tears of joy “What are you doing here?”

“I was, uh, just buying some things!” Keqing stammered, seeming a bit embarrassed before coughing into her hand and steered the topic away. “Anyways, if you’re trying to find something for him, I can—hey!”

Keqing stared at the two that suddenly took off without any warnings, having no idea what in the world had happened.

In the end, it was decided that they wouldn’t find the book in Liyue. Considering the battle that occurred not long ago, Aether’s face was pretty much known to the civilians. There was no way they could secretly buy that kind of book while keeping their identities hidden.

In the end, they decided to go to Mondstadt.

Unfortunately, they were away for so long that they had forgotten that Aether’s face was even more popular and well-known there than in Liyue—especially amongst the knights. The moment they got back, they were greeted by all sorts of familiar faces and warm greetings that made it much harder to ask for that kind of book.

“Aether! Paimon! Great to see you two back! How was your travel?” Amber welcomed them with open arms, as usual.

“Well, it certainly has been a while. Words of your deed in Liyue have spread even in Mondstadt,” Kaeya commented with that mysterious knowing smile, as usual.

“If you want to drop by at the bar tonight, feel free to do so but alcohol will still be off the menu for you two.” Diluc said seriously with his arms crossed over his chest, as usual.

“Big brother Aether and Paimon! It’s been so long! Do you want to play with me?” Klee greeted, on the way to blast up the fishes in Starfell Lake, as usual.

"You've come at the right time. I have another experiment I need you to help me with," Albedo muttered while looking through his experiments, as usual.

“Oh my, so the cutie has returned,” Lisa giggled, slacking off from her work, as usual.

“Aether, Paimon, it is good to see you two back and safe. I’ve heard what happened in Liyue. For the Geo Archon to perish like that…” Jean sighed before her desk of paperwork, as usual.

“Through thou journey across the land, thou have finally come! Perhaps even cruel fate has deigned to smile upon me, through sin which courses through my veins!” Fischl spoke in that string of gibberish, as usual.

“Mein Fräulein means that she is happy to see you again, Aether, Paimon.” Oz translated his master’s words, as usual.

“Well hello—” Mona was broke, as usual.

With the sun slowly setting in the horizon, Aether sat on the fingertips of Barbatos’ statue, looking over the city with golden bangs covering his eyes. Paimon hovered next to him, being unusually quiet with her bangs hiding her eyes as well.

The two stayed like that for a long, long time, as though becoming part of the statue they were on. It wasn’t until a breeze blew by, carrying the melody of lyre that they reacted.

“Sadness is not a look that suits your face, especially one as yourself with such fair grace,” a gentle voice spoke through the melody.

Aether and Paimon slowly turned to see a barb dressed in green drifting down with the wind swirling around him and landed soundlessly in the statue’s palms.

“Will you tell me what trouble you so? Together, we can surely soothe your woe.”

“VENTI!!”

“TONE-DEAF BARD!”

“Ack!”

The two travellers pounced onto the Anemo Archon. Taken off guard, Venti was knocked onto his back and soon found himself drenched in tears…

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Pfft…AHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“HEY!” Paimon shouted, thoroughly offended that the god had the audacity to laugh after hearing their story. “Don’t take pleasure from our pain!”

“Sorry, but never would I thought for that Morax to…PUAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Stop laughing and help us think,” Aether groaned, burying his face into his hands.

“Alright, alright!” Venti wiped away his tears. “Tell you what, I’ll help you get your book!”

“Venti!” Paimon cheered, not even using the nickname to express her gratitude.

“Are you sure?!” Aether asked hesitantly.

“It’s just erotic book, no big deal about it!” Venti giggled at the red hue spreading over Aether’s cheeks. “Think of this as my way of helping out an old friend. It’s about time these two get together, I’d say!”

“Paimon doesn’t get it…are they together or not?”

“Well…hard to say…” Venti trailed off and noticed the disappointment on Aether’s face. “Oh don’t look like that! Even if they aren’t now, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t get together in the future. I did notice how those two interacted during the Archon War. It’s a miracle they dragged it on for so long.”

“The Archon War?! Wasn’t that like, two thousand and six hundred years ago?!” Paimon gaped. “Exactly how long was he in love with Adeptus Xiao for?!”

“Ah, you might want to add another couple hundreds of years to that! The war didn’t finish in one day, after all~”

“Tone-deaf bard!”

Venti laughed at the pissed off Paimon before putting a finger to his lips and started to think back to the memories from so long ago. “Hmm…it’s been a long time since I saw Morax and Xiao even longer so I can’t say, but surely he feels the same towards Morax.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Aether asked with worries.

“Well, there’s a saying that some love starts in bed!”

“You tone-deaf bard! You’re the worst!” Paimon shouted.

“Ah, calm down now!” Venti raised his hands to shield the small fists raining down on him. “That might sound wrong, but this is the best solution!”

“What do you mean?” Paimon finally stopped pounding on the god.

“It took over two thousand years for that old blockhead to lay everything aside and start thinking about relationships. How many more do you think will take for Xiao to come to terms with it? Rather than waiting another millennium, it would be quicker to let the misunderstanding grow and have them sleep together, no?”

“You’re not wrong, but the way you put it makes it super sketchy…” Paimon crossed her arms and stared flatly at the bard.

Venti chuckled, taking it as a compliment before his smile disappeared and his eyes drifted to the stars above. “Time is cruel after all. That’s why we should spend every moment treasuring the time we have.”

Aether stared at Venti. At this moment, the other felt very far away despite sitting right beside him. The blond thought back to the story Venti told them…the one about his old friend and couldn’t help but feel a prick of pain inside him.

“But we can’t be sure until we confirm Adeptus Xiao’s feelings.” Aether pointed out. If Xiao didn’t feel the same for Zhongli, then he wouldn’t want to go through with a plan like that. That would only end up hurting both Zhongli and Xiao.

“Hey Venti, do you know much about Adeptus Xiao?” Paimon asked, flying around them.

“Of course, for I am the one who gave him his Vision, after all!” Venti lifted his lyre up and ran his fingers over the strings, creating a soothing melody.

“Long, long ago, Liyue suffered many outbreaks of diseases due to the bodies of the archons buried beneath the land, eternally sealed by the Geo Archon’s spear. These archon’s souls were filled with bitterness and this bitterness manifested into monsters. They raged in forms of diseases, unleashing evil into the rivers and seas.

Rex Lapid summoned the illuminated beasts to purge the daemons from this world. These illuminated beasts with dreadful appearance and warlike temperament raged through the land to free the people of this curse. Within the armies of illuminated beasts, five stood out amongst the rest. They were Bosacius, Indarias, Bonanus, Menogias, and Alatus. These five were Rex Lapis’s personal guards, following him wherever he went to purge the plague. They were later known to the mortals as the Yakshas.”

“There are more Yakshas?!” Paimon’s eyes widened at the news. “Why didn’t we meet any other ones?”

“The Yakshas were guardians of Rex Lapis for years without measure, and the evils they vanquished were incalculable. Yet mighty though they were, the Yakshas were not beyond the torment that betides all who face war, and they became afflicted. Some were given unto their rage, others unto a madness which fear mongered.”

The melody slowed, taking a sadder tone.

“Many turned to the slaughter of their own, others were bewitched by shadows of the soul. After a millennium did fate present itself unto them, and it was such: three of the five perished, the fourth vanished, and all of the myriad shared the fate of the three or the fourth. The fifth alone prevailed, and the fifth was Alatus, the Golden-winged King.”

“Adeptus Xiao,” Aether whispered, eyes rounding at this realization. This was a story about Xiao!

“Wait, so Alatus is Adeptus Xiao and he is also the Golden-winged King?!” Paimon slowly put everything together. “But we didn’t see any wings on him?”

“Not anymore,” Venti sighed. “He lost his wings long ago. Alatus is nothing but the past. Xiao is his name now.”

He ran his hands over the strings a few more times.

“That one has endured much suffering. Even to this day, he carries a burden that was not his to bear. I will not dive too much into his past as it is not my story to tell, but Morax was the one who saved Xiao from a cruel fate. This was also why despite the countless contracts Morax has created, Xiao was the only exception.”

“Wait…you mean, Zhongli never made any contract with Adeptus Xiao?” Aether asked.

Venti nodded.

“The God of Contracts was known for making contracts and following everything to the contracts. It didn’t matter to him if they were friends or alliances, archon or Yakshas. Every single being that made a deal with him had to form a contract.”

“Even you, Venti?” Aether asked.

“Yep,” Venti whined. “Even me! Horribly paranoid he is, don’t you think? But Xiao was the only exception to all of that. Morax never made a single contract with him and whenever he asked Xiao for something, it was always requests. Because Morax was the one who saved him, Xiao devoted himself to serving the Geo Archon and never once said no to him. He was more devoted to Morax than those who were bound by contracts. Even if it is the most absurd request, Xiao will do it as long as it is Rex Lapis.”

Aether and Paimon groaned at the reminder of this misunderstanding between the two adepti. They certainly witnessed how devoted Xiao was to Rex Lapis…considering he was even willing to offer his body without questions.

“But it’s strange,” Venti brought a hand to his chin and frowned. “Xiao may be stubborn and cold sometimes, but he’s a sharp-witted one. I can’t imagine him misunderstanding the situation if Morax was even the slightest bit clear on his intention. I may not be an adeptus, but even I know how seriously they take courtships and Morax is the most traditional one of them all, so it's impossible for him to mess up on that. What exactly did that guy say to Xiao anyway?”

“Well, rather than what was being said, it’s more like the lack thereof…” Paimon grumbled.

“He asked Adeptus Xiao to sleep with him?” Aether recalled their entire conversation with the Geo Archon, and that was the only thing he could find that was mildly related to a confession.

“No, no, there’s got to be more,” Venti grumbled with full certainty. “The fact that Morax asked something like this means he thinks they are already in the middle of a courtship, so the problem must stem even further back in time. It seems we would need to have some more talk about this with Xiao.”

“We?" Aether turned to Venti in surprise. “You’re coming with us?”

“Morax is a good friend of mine and I have some responsibility towards Xiao. I’ll lend you guys a hand!” Venti winked.

“VENTI!!”

“TONE DEAF-BARD!!”

For the second time that night, Venti was thrown onto his back and drenched in tears—except this time, it was happy tears.

Thus the ZhongXiao alliance was formed.

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