#to the point it would ruin my mood entirely. and listen I don’t get upset when strangers misgender me bc they usually just can’t tell

[angelofbloodlust]

shoutout to my friends that genuinely view me as masculine instead of just calling me more masc/neutral terms purely bc it’s what I said I prefer 🥰

[otomesiren]

FFXIV PSA: Beware of Narseth D’havi on Seraph/Dynamis and Moogle/Chaos

Beware of Narseth D'havi on FFXIV (lodestone is linked). He puts up a nice front, but behind that is a toxic, manipulative, and gaslighting liar.   

He has emotionally hurt me to the point where I couldn't go to sleep, had a nightmare that was very graphic, couldn't eat, cost me out of $500+ for a job I couldn't complete due to my mood dropping due to the constant messaging of how his "day was ruined", could barely talk about this entire thing that he told me about before caving in to tell my close friend, boyfriend, and outside friends who didn't play the game.  I was expected to keep what he told me to myself.  He had tried to make me promise to not tell my friends when that is nigh impossible for me.

This was too much for me to read and listen to from him.  I'm not a therapist.  I am not trained in this nor do I pretend to be one.  What he did was load upon load of what he claimed happened (even breaking his own promise to not MENTION IT when i told him to refrain) to the point where I was emotionally drained and triggered, both from past experiences, but this was far worse.

Expecting the average person to contain all this when they're not qualified to handle such immense emotional reactions and then blame them for taking action like I did is wrong and ridiculous.  I was treated like utter shit and a fool by him.

Hello, I hardly go on here but this has been on my mind to post a beware of him since March of this year.  He frequents Twitter and I’m not going to post this over there since I don’t feel safe on there as I do here.  More so now thanks to El*n’s bullshit.  Plus this post is 24 pages long.  I don’t have that patience to slice it up.  The goal of this is to get this out is to warn people to stay the fuck away from this abusive piece of shit. This post may upset someone or more and to them I say this: I've been dragged into this and then treated as if i have no fucking right or say about it especially if said ex friend is an abusive bastard who just wants to get his cake and eat it too and then complains about it worse than what I see in retail of how it's not how it's made to his liking, how he wasn't catered to, it's by the book manipulation and gaslighting and overall abusive.  

I did my best remembering and searching what I could in Discord since some did happen in game.  Some proof is below at the very end.  I’m not going to show all since it’s not needed and most of the story is not mine to tell nor show.  My POV is what he spoke to me about and one part that shows his true colors without me there.  That.  Is.  It.   I'm not going to search through more in Discord since I would have to unblock him to jump to his messages or try to remember what I said 5+ months ago and then scroll in hopes to see what I’m looking for or spend x mount of hours trying to find it.

This post is edited as much as I can with the help of two very close friends of mine.  I didn’t get time to ask those who doesn’t know the story to have a complete outsider view (I don’t know how else to explain that).  In case you didn’t get the gist from above, this is a very heavy long post that has subjects of the following mentioned:

gaslighting

manipulation

disturbing nightmare with violence is mentioned and summarized (my own nightmare after a year of not having one)

mention of panic attacks/anxiety 

immense anger (lots of cussing, it’s how I unleash the emotion and I damn well deserve to unleash it after all the shit he put me through.  I know people can be affected by this since one of my dear friends has it)

pet passing (my own)

If I missed one, I’m sorry.  I finally felt ready to post this tonight and the sooner it’s out there, the better it is to warn others about him.

His character/guild/twitter/discord accounts  His main’s lodestone: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/42388617/ His new main: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/49016648/ as of August 17th 2024. His alts: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/47595294/ https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/47594784/ His “alleged” alt: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/29042799/ His FC/guild: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/freecompany/9280370719638690199/ His twitter accounts: https://twitter.com/NarsethXIV (deleted) https://twitter.com/DarKye (protected) Discord: narseth, ID is  617822537040003092 (used to be DarKye, I don’t remember the numbers that Discord used to have after usernames)

For some backstory: I met him on PWI in 2009ish along with others when I joined the guild, Aesthetic.  We only played dungeons and did guild events.  We fell out of touch but added our guildees to FB and then Steam since it was all the rage then.  Throughout the years, we haven't spoken to each other (the rest of the guildees I have lost completely out of contact) as the years went by. Sometime early 2022 I think, I get in touch with him again after I noticed he was playing FFXIV on Steam.   I just recently got back into it at the time and have caught up to the expansion pack and told him, “hey let's meet in game”.  So we did.  He was in another server and we hung out at the time.  We also added each other on Discord, his user on there was DarKye (his typical username in games and other places)  before he changed it recently to narseth with Discord's questionable change of usernames.

We went to our first venue together sometime in July 2022 when we saw some ads in shout chat.  I found to have loved it, and he did too for a while.  We found out twitch djs were a thing and I got a very much needed break from work for three to four days, almost a week, and found out by staying up to the ungodly wee hours that hard bass made me relax and chill out before bed when years ago, I had found it to be uncomfortable to listen to.  I could finally get some sleep that came easily to me for once.  After that break I had from work, he told me he couldn't keep going for a few days due to work.  That didn’t bother me at all, he had to get up early and I understood since he was hours ahead of me in South America.  I was terrified at first going by myself, but it's a good thing I did.

As I went by myself from mid July to August (i did still invited him to come with, but he said no a few times but he did come to one when I told him how awesome it was with the skill/light show), I met six new friends whom I got along great with and dragged my fc leader/close friend into it too since she was curious about it herself. August was something special, on the 15th I met my boyfriend of 11 months now, I'll name him T, and we hit it off immediately.  We stayed up till 5am in the morning despite both of us having work the next day.  During this, I barely messaged Narseth on discord, while in game he was silent or messaged in fc here and there but hardly on Discord except when he wanted to share something.  I soon found out that he felt like a bother and that led to him not messaging me since he was doing his MSQ.  I was already done with mine but I had told him before many times to always send me a msg to fan about it.  Even when I brought up I was always on Discord - I practically live on it, he said he felt like a bother.  Keep this in mind.

Once Aug 30th hit, I asked out T and he said yes.  I kept hanging out with my new friends, old friend, and T as we went to venues.  I had since given up trying to invite Narseth with us.  There was a time where I saw him much after in the year at a venue but 

It wasn't until sometime in October that I found out Narseth was interested in someone in game.  He wouldn't tell me who yet but he sounded happy.  He told me that he knew how fast it was being since it was just two weeks, just like mine was, so i didn't think much about it until that day in November when I met his intended.  One he didn’t even wait to introduce me when i told him and warned him i would give him so much shit (teasing, mind you) that he didn’t even introduce me before he proposed to her in game.  Keep the teasing in mind too.  

When I met her with my friend and T, we behaved like we always did.  I soon found out much much later that night that he was very upset by it.  He told me that I was too harsh with my teasing [in front of her] and got mad about the three of us teasing him to me ONLY, in DMs on discord.  (He also admitted that he felt good to pay me back when one of his friends refused to call me my correct name in game vs my nickname that friend of his gave me.  That was the first red flag I should’ve fucking noticed.)  But the reality was that he didn't want to look "foolish" in front of the one he lied about.  In turn, he turned the blame completely unto me: how I hadn’t hung out with him despite me trying to make conversation with him. I told him the very same that even if I do msg him, he barely messages back or even forgets.  Latter I understood, but it was why I didn't even hang out or talk with him anymore.  He didn't seem to be interested in talking to me at all or do anything but focus on his intended whom he greatly replied to very fast to is what I was told.

The way he typed to me in Discord during that conversation was very condescending and rude.  He treated me like I did nothing or put any effort to hang out or do anything with him when I did, in fact, tried to include him, tried to talk - practically everything.  He acted like he didn’t know me and he didn’t at ALL now that I look back on it. It felt utterly wrong to be spoken to in this way, text or not.  My fear of confrontation and hurting a friend when really it was ME being hurt not him, caused a very bad panic attack:  I felt a sick sensation in my stomach.  I hadn’t had one this bad since starting college years ago.  It freaked me out, shooting my anxiety to where I couldn't eat for days.  I could barely sleep.  For three to four days. I missed out on work but this was just the beginning of these attacks.  I never mentioned this attack to him at all but it was bad to the point I couldn't focus on anything and I cried.  A fuck ton.  I hold my friends in high regards and making them upset makes me feel bad, but never to this degree that sent me shaking and had bile in my throat to the point where I felt like I was wrong.  When in fact, I wasn’t.  I was being manipulated and gaslighted to the point of bending to his way and will of how a friend of his should act.  I had merely been myself as I always was, and suddenly, somehow, in front of her, it wasn’t ok to tease him like how I usually did.  My body knew subconsciously that what he did was emotional abuse and it was the start of feeling this “friendship” wasn’t really one since then. I felt like walking on eggshells each time since  I promised I wouldn't tease him after that.  Which I upheld but without that, it wasn’t me.   My bf and close friends also found it very strange when I told them what had happened.  

If only I fucking knew what came next in December.

December, a week or so before the holidays, i found him fcless (guildless).  He was upset.  He told me why and I wished he didn't when I asked.  This was the beginning of many and I do mean many of "she did this and this" and at the start, I was concerned.  I was concerned throughout until I found out the truth.  Who the fuck wouldn’t be? But I digress.  He told me to never bring it up to what he told me that day to her.  I promised not to.  He also tried to make me promise that I couldn't tell my friend in game but that is literally impossible.  I already began to.  More so when the same thing weeks after weeks of him being a sack of shit when really he painted her as the one.  On the 18th, it affected me so greatly that i had a nightmare for the first time in a long time.  This nightmare was graphic and disturbing.  I told him about it after he said he would like to hear it after I warned him it was bad.    I also shared it to my bf and my friend.  DETAILS OF THE DREAM AHEAD, skip to the next paragraph that has “ ****** Christmas”. The dream was a man was attacking a woman and i could hear the woman screaming.  Blood was on the floor as each attack took place.  Each attack was a stab as a knife and I could hear. 

.

.

.

.

****** Christmas came.  I had a Secret Santa ready for my friend group and I was participating in the one I joined that he refrained from inviting me until I pointed it out in game. Needless to say, he ruined  Christmas for me.  At the time though, I thought it was for a friend who needed help/advice and yet, it was just the start.  At first, he told me vaguely about why he was upset and then told me he missed my birthday party in game held at my bf’s friend’s venue due to something coming up.  I’m not going to say what exactly, but he told me what had happened and it made sense why he couldn’t make it.  I understood and told him not to worry about it since there was always the next time.  

New Years came, they “fought”/”argued” (his words) again and he swore he was done this time.  Ha.  I saw gposes(group photos) of the two all lovey dovey in a server I was in with them. This, I think, was the start of my many serious reactions of her being brought up again and again.  More so that he would rather stay with the woman he painted as toxic when he knew I had experience with an ex that supposedly did the same thing he painted of her doing to him.  It just made no sense the more as it went on and every time it happened, I wanted to message her to tell her to let go.  I threatened to cut him off since here I was, being told something else and then he went and post those gposes as if everything was ok?  It just didn’t line up, and it affected me greatly since i had exp with an ex that said nice sweet words, and everything he was claiming she was doing: flirting, crossing boundaries to name a few. It was making me shake in anger and wanting to msg her and when i mentioned it one time, he said don't.  When I got too angry about her, he didn't like it.  He told me to stop or calm down whenever I did.  Plus, he kept saying “You don’t have the full story” over and over again.

On the 12th of January, Narseth and I had a vc (voice cat).  I'm not sure if this is the one I was emotional in since we had just two about her.  I wish i never did vc with him, he sounded like he really just didn’t give a fuck what I said despite a very serious convo much later that he “valued” what i said.  He had told me that vcing is easier too, though to me it was just to hide it.  He kept giving her excuses despite telling me the bloody opposite that he’s done when he told her that he wasn’t letting go.  Over and over like a damn broken record.  It caused me to get even more upset when i was already emotional on the vc. He didn’t care a single cent that I was not in the mental capacity to do this and yet, he had called me on Discord.  I had already shared my experience from an ex already and he wanted me in vc?  When it was obvious that I would be affected by it?

What was i thinking, is what i ask myself in the past and probably some whom are reading.  And the answer is simple: He was a friend.  Friends I try to be there for them. Plus, I “knew” how he felt in this picture that he painted that turned out to be a lie.  I thought he needed help even if it was harsh at times because i knew it was going to hurt.

We had another serious talk.  It felt like he didn’t want to talk about it and my guess was right.  He was too tired so I waited for the morning barely getting any sleep.  It had affected me again, as it always does.  This time, our talk was way worse.  When I asked him if we could, he said “Would it be productive?”  (turns out to be his favorite fucking word after “listen”).   I told him flat out i didn’t know and he explained how it was going good, that “we’re doing better”.  That they were fine.  I felt...relieved, now knowing it was okay, but also some part of me wondered “Is this really ok?”

On Feb 8th, my cat, Benny, started to not eat. I took him to the vet with my dad the next day since he had a history of having hard stools in his later years. He sadly passed away on Feb 13th due to kidney failure after I tried to syringe feed him.  He had been in the worst shape.  I also heard him dying the day he died.  My friend who had worked in the field told me that by the time we hear the noises, they’re already gone. I was shaken up.  I could barely eat.  Sleep.  I cried on and off.  I never felt so upset as I did when my precious boy passed.  I took off work f grieve since I was in no way mentally capable of going in and dealing with anyone.  I was crying at the drop of a hat.  He was my precious boy.  I heard his last moments in my bathroom when he woke me up.  It still makes me cry to this day.   And Narseth knew most of this and yet, he still brought her up again not even a week AFTER or to even wait few more weeks so i could mourn.  I was not, in any good mental state, to hear any of what he had to say about her that racked up my anger, made me lose sleep, and just outright being affected by it.  Only this time, I felt numb since i was grieving. I was exhausted.  I was tired.  I brushed it off to him with “I’m taking you to the spa" in a halfhearted joke.

When I got my house on the 20th of Jan in game of ffxiv (after the housing was now lottery), he told me I would have to tolerate her since she would be building with him.  I said no promises.  He showed me a screen of them two crafting after i showed him one of mine and my bf crafting.  For once, i had no reaction but it wasn't until later that day when he brought her up again that it upset me again. And again another day.  It was building and building and finally, I had enough.

It was the 25th of Feb when a friend showed me that they were in game and showed me a screenshot of Narseth in the same location with the very one he claimed he was “done with”.  This was after he said to me that he would talk with her to end it days ago after calling it toxic to the billionth fucking time at this point.  

I messaged (sent a tell/whisper/private message) him in game and asked him what the fuck was he doing.  He said they were fine.  I said he told me he was done that night.  I was livid.  I logged out and then I then messaged him on Discord after, telling him he was being pathetic.  He told me to stop.  I refused.  I was done. I meant what I said that since he wouldn’t cut her off, I would cut him off.  I sent a message to her right after on Discord, telling her to get away from him.  When she didn’t reply, i messaged him on twitter showing what i sent to her.  I knew he would be mad, and didn’t care at this point.  My gut was right however that something was off.  He showed it to her on her alt discord  and she reactivated her account on discord and told/showed me what really happened.    I showed him on twitter after asking if it was ok from her to post the screenshot to him and she said yes.  He gaslit me immediately after, telling me to go “read the logs” and “you don’t have the full story” when he had every chance to do so and wouldn’t. Meanwhile, I was shown screenshot after screenshot what really happened.  Again, I will not say what was in those other screenshots, but the one I do share in this post from her is the key part where I saw his true colors of a liar.

All my patience was gone at this point.   I was livid. I cussed him out after everything i went through.  All for this called “FRIEND” of mine after I stayed up, could barely eat, listened to his rants, went on fucking vc when i wasn’t in the right mental capacity to deal with it after work, had a nightmare that disturbed me immensely, lost a freelance job of over $500+ that I had to refund after many pushbacks the client was upset despite being very patient.  I had to refund this client of mine with three of my paychecks and my tax refund.  All of that FOR HIM and he LIED TO ME.

The true colors of him finally came out: He said he never wanted my help that he wanted a place to RANT without judgement (when he didn’t even think that he fucking LIED to me?  That’s not ranting you piece of shit) , that i could THINK he was an asshole.  

What was funny, was that Twitter didn't even let me see his messages to me until after i told him he fucking lied to me AND i was shown he talked shit about me behind my back (and yes, I have proof of this happening)- How I was projecting my own exp onto this.  Despite him linking narcissist videos on youtubes to me.  This is so absolutely fucked up.  Here he was, acting like he did no wrong and treating me like an idiot and then he tried to put it on me.  No.  That’s not how this works :)

Narseth is the one who dragged me into this, told me things that I really shouldn’t fucking know throughout, and then blamed me for stepping in as anyone would when something didn’t add up.  I did everything I could as a friend could be.  I tried to be patient and that didn’t work.  I tried to tell him what was what, and that didn’t work.  In the end, I found out the truth.  He tried to place the blame all on me and then he ran like a coward: left his guild/fc and transferred to another server from Faerie to Seraph.

Proof Below 

As a reminder: I’m only posting some.  This is MY side and pov of how he treated me and spoke to me about his lies.  I will not show anymore.  It's difficult to search in Discord when you have someone blocked and I will have to scroll through months of who said what.  I have these screenshots thanks to sharing with close friends at the time when the truth came to light of his lies.

Image below that I have him blocked on my discord with others being covered with black. 

(he has me blocked, so it doesn’t show his info such as having nitro or his old username as it would below from https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/articles/12620128861463-New-Usernames-Display-Names in the “A New Profile Badge For Old Usernames” area)

Below is proof of the video he linked painting his narrative again about her when really it’s him.  I took these in February after I found out the other side of the story.  At that time, he claimed that he was quitting back in March (which is when I took this to show close friends) and had taken off all pics on his discord (icon and header on profile) so that’s why you see it different. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tjbm7h8XMm4 is the video linked below.

below is him after linking the above video.   yes, that text in red is my edit when i showed someone about it: that he kept on repeating this “being a good partner”  before this.  Note what day this is: Christmas Day.  

Below is proof of some of the conversation on discord after i blocked him in game.  This was when I remembered “this is okay, she’s doing the things I want”.  Everything was churning inside me: how this was going, how upset he was, but also how it triggered my past experience.  I called him pathetic and I didn’t care how he would take it. He told me stop, as he usually did when I got angry and he didn’t like it.  H's no stranger to that.  This time though, I refused.  

I took these earlier this year before he changed his discord user with the discord update to show my close friends.  I'm the person that vents mainly to myself but when it's too much, I have close friends that we just get each other and know we need to let out steam.  

I have taken out the bottom part since it mentions his age and real name.  

Some context is missing in the next screenshot below showcasing my twitter messages because it’s NOT my story to tell..  This is how he emotionally abused and lied to me to the point I thought he was being an idiot [and he was, just in another way].  Keep in mind he was LYING all this fucking time. If you think it’s harsh, it’s meant to be.

He deserved every word from my mouth hiding it for three fucking months and costed me work and affected my mental health.    I was done, I was tired of his constant complaining, the whining every time he was upset, mad, sad, said he was done, no romance to be found, he’ll block her soon, she was [and he] was toxic, she didn’t do things for him, blah blah fucking blah.  Vent after loaded fucking vent that was the same song, same dance every two weeks or even one week.  Then all seemed to be well.  Then rinse and fucking REPEAT over and over and over again.  Week after week or every other week.  So yes, I was harsh and angry as anyone WOULD in my shoes.

This was the time I finally said fuck it and sent messages to the person whom he claimed was toxic and found out their side of the story.  They were not civil either and I will not be sharing it here since it was based on his lies.

For the image below, I suggest reading the other pic below it first to get context, but this is what he says in that screenshot that sent me into a cussing frenzy “she’s projecting her own shit”.

Bigger pic of the screenshot below, which felt like a punch in the gut.  This was when I didn’t recognize who he was and felt sick reading it.  I was angry at the same time finding all of this out and I felt fucking good letting him have it.

The red is covering the one whom he is talking to which he knows already was shared with me since i sent him this on Twitter.

As you can see above, Twitter didn’t load any of his messgaes until after I blocked him (which is why I kept cussing him out) so here are two pictures of what he said afterward when Twitter decided to load them.

End of proof.

[bcdwhcre]

Oml I've had this request idea for so long so I was wondering how you'd do it. How about some headcanons/little scenarios of Levi, Erwin, and Hanji getting caught making out with their fem so by someone else in the scouts? 😏 This has been in my head so LONG soooo I feel like you would portray it well

“Caught,” Levi x Erwin x Hange Headcanons

okay okaaaay cute idea🥺

Summary: getting caught making out with your s/o by another scout.

Warnings: implied smut with Erwin

Fem!Reader

.

.

.

Levi:

He’s always been the type to be clingy and openly affectionate in private. He never really liked PDA or even being flirty with you in front of others. He liked to cherish you behind the closed doors and show you how much he loves you there.

It never bothered you, you were always professional when it came to your work so you agreed with him about not wanting to show too much of your relationship to the other Scouts.

One day Levi was more clingy than usual, he said it was only because he had a nightmare about losing you and it felt too real. The entire day when no one was looking, he would touch you in any way he could. Grabbing your hand, touching your lower back. He felt like he needed some slight touch of yours to be reminded you were still here.

Around the afternoon, he had forced you to stop your work and come to his office. It had bugged you but you couldn’t sit there and complain about Levi wanting to be around you for every second.

He was just a teddy bear, very hands on and loving so him having a dream about you no longer being here- it had crushed him in ways he couldn’t explain. He was deeply in love with you, he couldn’t handle losing you so the slight dream just fed into his insecurities and anxiety that he had to be around you.

As you stepped inside his office after knocking, his eyes lit up when he seen you and instantly stood up from his desk as you walked over. His arms embraced you in a tight hug, his lips kissing the side of your head and a sigh of relief slipped out of his mouth.

“Why did you call me here?” You mumbled, rubbing his back and he grunted under his breath, his eyes moving to look at you.

“Just missed you is all.” He barely said loud enough for you to hear, feeling embarassed for admitting that out loud. He felt dumb for bothering you and taking you away from your work to see him but he felt like he needed it desperately.

“Hm, because you missed me?” You teased, making him roll his eyes and his hands grabbed a hold of your cheeks firmly, staring into your eyes.

“Yes,” He quietly said, admiring you as his thumbs rubbed over your soft skin.

Time felt like it had frozen still just for a moment, his eyes burning into yours and another huff escaped his mouth as he tried to rid the insecurities he had replaying in his head.

You could tell how frustrated he really was, he hated to be deep into thought about everything- especially when it came to negative thoughts. You moved your hands to rest on his sides, gripping onto the material of his shirt and tugged him closer.

You wanted to take away his troubles, his thoughts and his anxiety. You wish you could easily take it from his hands and deal with it yourself, he deserved to be happy everyday.

As you felt his thumbs brush over your cheeks, you leaned up to press your lips on his. A gentle kiss but it definitely made him feel better, making all the stress slip off his shoulders and replaced with love and butterflies.

His hands stayed firmly on your cheeks, afraid of letting you go but also not wanting you to pull back from his lips. He just needed this a little longer. He had tilted his head, leaning more into your mouth as both of your lips moved in sync with one another.

Suddenly the door had opened up, Armin and Jean walking inside while calling for Levi before noticing the scene before them, making them freeze in the doorway and made the both of you break apart and glance back at the door.

All four of you stared at each other, the awkward tension and not really knowing what to say about what had just happened. Your relationship wasn’t a secret, no, but it wasn’t clear if everyone knew about it or not considering you two aren’t much of a pda type couple.

Armin and Jean’s eyes were wide, they had no clue about your relationship so walking in felt like they violated your privacy and saw something they weren’t supposed to see.

Levi grew frustrated, staring at the both of them and crossed his arms over his chest as he gave them a cold stare.

“You either speak on why you’re here or leave.” He simply said, causing the both of them to stumble on their words and Armin ended up just grabbing Jean and dragging him out of the office.

“We’re so sorry, we didn’t see anything. Ignore us.” Armin rushed out, grabbing the door and shut it, hearing them panic as they go down the hall,

“You scared the poor boys.” You glanced over at Levi, making him roll his eyes and meet your gaze.

“Maybe they should learn how to knock.”

.

.

Erwin:

Erwin is the type of person who likes to have everyone know you’re his but he’s also very professional in his work and making sure that his work and your relationship don’t intertwine and ruin one another.

He’s always kept his head screwed on and he always treated you more like a colleague while working and you always done the same to him. He cared a lot about his job, it was one of his favorite things along with you.

So, it didn’t bother you to have him focus on his work during the day and come home to cherish you ten times more. It was a good mixture to keep the relationship healthy and stable.

But one particular day, you found yourself a bit more needier and trying to go about your work as if nothing is wrong was bugging you. You couldn’t help but think of Erwin repeatedly, the other night replaying in your head of him touching you in all the right places.

It was really starting to annoy you, sure this has happened before but the other times it was easy to manage and ignore. This time it just was on the tip of your brain, repeating like a broken record and it was starting to make you go crazy as you keep catching yourself zoning out and daydreaming about it

You were stationed on the opposite side of the base, trying to concentrate on the plan for the expedition coming up and as you sat there trying to listen, it was getting more evident that you were dozing off into thought.

After a while there was a meeting that had to be held with most of the Scouts, mainly the higher ups, to discuss the next expedition but you were too lost in your train of thought to even realize what they were saying.

“Y/N.” Levi snapped his fingers in your face and your eyes shot up to meet his, the scary plain look on his face and you could automatically tell he was irritated.

Erwin had looked across the room, noticing you zoning out and he tried not to think too hard about it, you two were at work- not at home but he felt like there was something wrong, maybe you were upset or too in a depressing mood to work.

As the meeting went on, it had finished up and Erwin had asked for you to come to his office and at first you thought that he had caught on and it had actually excited you a bit but the both of your thoughts were far from similar.

Once you stepped inside, you turn to face him as he shut his door and you reached out to grab a hold of his hands. He had looked at you with concern and before he could ask you what’s going on, you had smashed your lips onto his.

He was a bit taken back but he couldn’t deny that he liked the sudden kiss from you and he wasn’t too phased since it was inside his office. Your hands had moved up to cup his cheeks and eventually sliding them back to tangle in his hair, both of your lips molded together.

Suddenly the door had creaked open and someone had grunted loud enough for the both of you to hear. Erwin had ripped away from you, both of your eyes moving to meet with Levi’s as he shot you both a disgusting look.

“Please, there’s a lock on the door for a reason.” He rolled his eyes, walking inside and slamming the papers on Erwin’s desk before returning to the door.

“My apologies.” Erwin spoke, making you hold back a laugh at how red his face was from embarrassment.

“Tch, save it. Just lock the fucking door.” Levi shut the door behind him and that’s when a laugh had slipped past your lips.

Erwin was completely flustered, his cheeks heated up and the look of fear knowing Levi had caught the both of you making out. You didn’t find it that much of a big deal, it was Erwin’s office after all- not his fault that Levi didn’t know how to knock.

“Whats so funny?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at your small fit of giggles as you shook your head.

“It’s funny how flustered you are.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“Hun, your face is more red than a tomato.” You pointed out and he huffed out a breath, moving to sit down at his desk trying to rid of the thoughts of being walked in on.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. We were just kissing.” You teased, leaning over his desk to place another kiss on his lips and he looked up at you, the small smile edging in his lips.

Erwin remained silent, his large hand reaching up and caressing one of your cheeks as his thumb brushed over you skin slowly. He released another breath, the sight of you instantly making his nerves calm down and the embarrassment slip away.

“Still humiliating.” He said sacrastically, a gentle chuckle leaving his lips and you rolled your eyes.

“Better get over that thought because I’m not finished with you yet.” You mumbled, grabbing a hold of his chin and he had looked at you surprised.

You couldn’t care less about Levi walking in, your main thoughts were still on your boyfriend and the previous thoughts you’ve been having all day and being seen making out wasnt going to stop you from getting what you wanted.

“Oh?” He simply said, collecting his thoughts and finally realizing what you had been talking about and it made him realize why you’ve been zoning out all day. It made sense.

“This time, lock the door.”

.

.

Hange:

Now, Hange never cared what anyone thought whether it was about her or her work so she wasn’t ashamed or phased in the slightest when she got into a relationship and she sure wasn’t embarrassed to show it off and to show you off.

But you, on the other hand, were the opposite. You were really shy and awkward when it came to opening up and you were always flustered when it came to the Scouts teasing you about your relationship.

You weren’t embarrassed or ashamed to be with her, you were more than in love with her but you weren’t used to this sort of attention, you’ll admit that she’s actually your first relationship so you were still getting used to it.

You worked under her, being apart of her team and helping her with a lot of research studies she was obsessed with, that was the main reason why you two gotten so close.

As you stood inside her little lab, sitting on a stool and reading over papers while she mumbled to herself about some theory she was testing out. You glanced over at her when her mumbling got louder. Hange is always unaware when she starts talking to herself when working, you thought it was cute.

All of a sudden a loud excited scream left her lips, almost startling you and she jumped up.

“I figured it out!” She laughed more to herself, completely forgetting you were in the room as she grabbed her pen and began to scribble down on her journal.

“Figured what out?” You spoke, your eyes turning back to the paper before you and her eyes shot towards you.

“Something about Eren’s titan form.” She couldn’t hold back the excitement running through her veins as the adrenaline was pumping through, making her more hyper than ever.

She went over to where you were, her arms wrapping around you from behind and she glanced over your shoulder to see what you were reading before sliding it away from your vision.

You turned your head, raising a eyebrow all while the butterflies swarmed your stomach when her grip around you tightened, her lips planting a gentle kiss on your cheek, making your cheeks grow red.

“What?” You asked, noticing how concentrated she was on you and you were almost convinced you had something on your face.

“Nothing nothing, I’m just happy is all.” Her voice was low, making a small smile come across your lips.

Hange couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of love she had for you. She was deeply in love, more than she can explain out loud and it was never her intention to fall for one of her cadets or anyone in the Scouts period.

But the day you came in after the training corps, set on being under her team and wanting to work with her little experiments and loving her theories just as much as she did- she suddenly fell right into that deep hole with you.

She always thought that she would only be in love with her work and her job. She never seen herself with anyone before you only because everyone thought she was crazy for being so obsessive over the Titans and wanting to learn their way of thinking and behavior.

But you, pushed her in the right direction and always gave her good advice and made her feel more confident in her work, even though she was pretty confident before but having you was like a big bonus.

You could tell she had gotten lost in her train of thought again, she always zoned out and thought about you and it was always cute to see. Soon she had snapped out of her, her attention back onto you and she leaned down to press her lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, definitely meaningful to the both of you. Your hand moved up to cup her cheek to keep her in place, tilting your head and leaning more into her. The small make out session was starting to get heated pretty fast but it ended abruptly when the door had opened, both of your eyes shooting over to the door to see Eren.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t- I didn’t see anything.” He stuttered, quickly walking out and shutting the door behind him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid!” Hange shouted as Eren’s face turned bright red, quickly walking down the hallway and away from the room, trying to rid the scene he just witnessed.

She turned to look back at you, your face completely flustered and bright red again. The embarrassment lingered over your head like a rainy cloud and she couldn’t help but laugh at it.

“So humiliating.” You mumbled, shaking your head as you looked down to hide your face considering how hot your skin was.

She quickly grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at her, the small smirk on her face had made you almost melt beneath her fingertips. Her lips kissed your red cheek a few times, trying to hold back her laugh.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s his fault he barged in here.”

“I’m still embarrassed.”

“Don’t be!”

.

.

.

Anywhooooo, been a long few days. 🥺

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[gustingirl]

gvf headcanon | they comfort you during hard times

request: Omicron is ruining my Christmas plans and I don’t think I’m going to get to see family (either that or my dad will be alone all week including Christmas) and I’ve been sad all day. How would the boys try to make you feel better?

jake.

no because jake's real love language is music. like i know for a fact he feels the most comfortable with music in any form and shape. like, sex? with music in the back. cooking together? ok but put music in the back. you're sad? watch him put the best music for the moment. and if he needs to express something? well, music is the answer.

and he listened to you with full concentration as you cried out about your family and how much you missed them. it broke jake's heart, how you were so upset you could barely talk, feeling that knot grow bigger inside your throat. he held you in his arms as you finished crying, but he still decided to give you some time alone, as he knew you needed it. in the mean time, he grabbed his guitar and your records, trying to find the best song for the occasion.

"With the news there's something every day"

the voice that suddenly started singing sounded quite far, but it was slowly growing louder as you managed to stop crying.

"So many people thinking different ways, you say"

now the voice was clear and near, and the door of your shared room swung open, revealing jake with a guitar in hand. he stood in the entrance, though his eyes were focused on you.

"Where is the music? A tune to free the soul"

you smiled, cleaning your eyes, as he continued singing now smiling back

"A simple lyrics to unite us all, you know"

you continued laughing as you watched your boyfriend imitating the way his twin brother sang, even impersonating his body language and all. though you still were sad, you at least could wear a smile thanks to jake, who never once stopped taking care of you.

josh.

i have to admit josh reminds me a lot to my best friend, and so i feel like he would do something similar to what my friend would do. so, for that matter, i believe josh would have found out about the news from the exact source: your family. i have the feeling that, as a boyfriend, josh would have your family's contact and would ocassionally talk to them, to catch up or even to just talk. and he would find out through a relative that decided to alert him about the change of plans. i feel like josh is the type of person (friend or lover, really) that would do whatever to fix a problem. like, we know he's willing to give up something for a person he loves.

and so this man was unstoppable as he contacted every single relative of yours he could to do a surprise zoom call. you had the idea nobody could be available and so the idea of facetiming was not even present. but josh was full of ideas and so, with the little but efficient resources he had, he contacted every person related to you. once the surprise was arranged perfectly, he waited until you were out of the shower.

"y/n, can you come a second, please?" he asked as he heard the bathroom's door swing open "sam wants to facetime you" it was a little white lie needed at the moment, especially so you wouldn't come naked to the living room where he sat, with his own computer and all your family connected

"can it be fast? i'm not really in the mood" you commented as you entered the living room, finding your boyfriend sitting alone with his computer

"just come here, will you?" his voice and tone were softer than ever which surprised you, as you had never heard him speak like that before.

you sat down by his side, oblivious to everything. josh held your hand out of nowhere, catching you by surprise once more. his smile was comforting and his eyes were staring at you lovingly

"open that window" he asked, pointing at the zoom app minimized in the screen.

you did as he asked, and felt your eyes all watery as you found your entire family, pets included, connected right in front of your face. one of your relatives couldn't hide the excitement and announced happily that this was josh's idea. right then, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was now wearing the biggest, most tender smile you had ever seen. you knew, then, that he was your life's biggest gift.

sam.

sam over here? softest boy ever. and softest boyfriend ever too. i have a strong feeling he wouldn't know exactly what to do? like he would struggle to find the right words to say, i mean he barely understands what you're going through. he still would do anything possible to actually put himself in your shoes but he still wouldn't know what to do.

but sam is all about comfort and warmth and he instantly realized you were not feeling ok. he had overheard you discussing with your family about cancelling plans so he knew why your mood had changed so abruptly. knowing he couldn't exactly tell you how to feel, he found the best idea he could. he was willing to distract you with whatever he could find. so, sam created a fort. yup, you read that right. i’m sure you must be confused, since you were the second you got off the shower to find your living room upside down, with the couch surrounded by mattresses and pillows and the lights dimmed.

"why is our living room a warzone?" you questioned, letting a small giggle escape your lips

"this is not war! this is love and this is our love fort!" sam began screaming as he tried to peek his head through a made up window "would you like to join my love fort?"

you couldn't help but laugh at how little his head looked in between all the pillows. in the matter of seconds you had forgotten why you were so sad, as you made your way inside the love fort to find a handmade little cinema he had installed with a dvd player and a video player.

danny.

i have a hard feeling danny would already know, but only because he could imagine it. like i feel like he would constantly be thinking of you and would always be alert. so like by the time he noticed the covid cases growing because of the new variant, he would instantly realize this affected you a lot. his activities wouldn't really change but seeing your family would become impossible if the cases arise and the restrictions come back. so he would literally predict the situation and have an idea of what to do.

so, before you could tell him why you were so sad, danny had already made you get in the car with him for a different errand. the car ride was silent and he was the one to bring up the topic. you were surprised he already knew, but didn't question it much, as it wasn't a really hard idea to think. you didn't talk much about it as you knew it would make you break down. instead, danny played some music for you. the rest of the ride went by quickly, with your favorite songs playing one right after the other. once you two made it to destiny, you were shocked. danny didn't have to do any errand; without you realizing, he had taken you to your first date's location. the place was a simple lake that was now washed pink by the beautiful sky above you. you watched as danny sat on the car's hood and extended his hand, hoping you would join him. you obviously did, and placed your head on his shoulder after sitting down.

"i never saw this coming" you commented, finally, after a long but comfortable silence

"that was the idea" danny replied, his hand now embracing you, bringing you to his chest. you hid your face in his chest, feeling how danny's hand started stroking your hair.

nothing else needed to be said or done, as danny had mended a heart that didn't have time to even break. you still missed your family, but you could work it out as long as you had this man by your side.

thanks for requesting!!

[taesspark]

A Normal Friday Afternoon

drabble #1 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 2.2k 

warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing

It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc. 

You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year. 

It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.

You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day. 

It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook. 

If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did. 

You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep. 

Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard. 

“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-” 

“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.” 

Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.” 

You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it. 

“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble. 

Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude. 

You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close. 

“Oh, shit-”

You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them. 

“Oops.” 

You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh. 

Fucking Jeon Jungkook. 

The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.” 

He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.” 

You’re seething. 

A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all. 

And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out. 

The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies. 

“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.” 

Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek. 

The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 

“Do you have something to say?” You snap. 

He opens his mouth. Then closes it. 

You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.” 

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing. 

“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.  

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.” 

You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.” 

He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Hit a nerve?” 

“No.” 

It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is. 

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up. 

“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.” 

He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting. 

“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.” 

“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?” 

Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.” 

“Hit a nerve?” You mock. 

You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“Never in my days…”

“...Such stupidity from my own students!”

You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same. 

“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says. 

Jungkook groans. 

“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.” 

You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall. 

“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.” 

The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?” 

The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself. 

“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.” 

You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror. 

“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it. 

“But-”

“Professor!” 

“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.” 

You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder. 

“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead. 

The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.

You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake. 

You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed. 

“Y/N?” 

You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask. 

The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face. 

“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?” 

He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate. 

Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.” 

His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away. 

"What was that for?"

"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.” 

"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance. 

"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole." 

You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake. 

[babytaes]

The Kickback

summary: What happens when your long-life crush's secret is discovered? In hopes of not wanting him to find out, what do you do... nothing.

pairing: dk x female reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, crack lol.

warnings: profanity

word count: 3k

a/n: today is my birthday and I wanted to share this one that has been in my drafts for so long. this campus life is stressful but I’m finding time to upload here and there. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night. Much love from Babytaes! :) Also I really didn’t read this over sooo... if it doesn’t make sense. Take it up with corporation. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Dear diary, I saw my crush today. I saw him in the living room after my brother invited him over with another friend. It's not as if I'm scared of him. I've spoken with him numerous times. I mean, I'm almost fluent in his language, lol. Seeing him and hearing his boisterous laugh was still entertaining. I'm wondering if he'll be at the kickback this weekend; if so, maybe I'll have the bravery to approach him. Okay, goodbye journal, love y/n.”

Your life consisted of short, insignificant interactions with him; however, when you had a crush, life was exciting and unpredictable. Since you're so near to him on a daily basis, your crush increased exponentially as you couldn't control your intrusive thoughts.

Yes, you did think of him, probably 25/8. It's not like you didn't know him, but you only knew the head version of him. And we all know they could be two different people. So the only thing left to do is keep it secret.

It's impossible for your secret to come out when you're the only one who knows about it. Right? Unfortunately, this isn't a movie, and your secret was revealed, and the perpetrator was none other than your arch-nemesis, Boo Seungkwan.

Okay, not quite that far, but you and him frequently collided because you and him could never agree on anything. He's just Boo, and he has his own behavior category.

He was the second-to-last person you wanted to find out about, after your crush, of course. From this point on, your life was not going as planned.

Your secret would never be revealed to Lee Seokmin, and you would do anything to protect it.

“What are you doing?” You leapt to your feet as you hurriedly closed your diary, terrified of prying eyes.

You rolled your eyes and stuffed your journal into a drawer with random papers, saying, "Shit, why don't you ever knock."

“Well, this is my shared dorm, and you're basically free living here,” he chuckled. You gave him a sidelong glance.

He was right.

“Is that a way you treat your twin? Is it now.”

He strolled away, completely oblivious to your yelling, and into the kitchen.

“Shut up, and get your ass out here we have to go shopping for the kickback. If you’re not out in 10 I’m leaving your ass.”

Great sibling love, what more could you ask for.  As much as you know that this is the way he expresses his love, you still got up and started getting ready for the day despite his warning.

Amidst your constant disagreements with him, you still loved him. The only problem was that you had to keep your love interest hidden from him. You could see it now and the big brother trying to protect and all that annoying shit.

You were old enough to take care of yourself and you didn’t want unruly men to ruin something that you wanted for so long.

“Coming, if you leave me, I'll tell Mom.” And I think we can all agree that I am the favorite twin.” As he slammed the fridge door shut, you could hear his huge scoffs.

You hurriedly grabbed your purse and beanie as you dashed for the door, laughing at his tantrums. He had a habit of leaving you behind.

We will not speak of March 5, 2017.

“Hey, wait up,” you said as you ran to his car and jumped in before him, grabbing the aux before him.

He started the car and sped out of the dorm parking lot on his way to the store, saying, "You're such a pain in the ass."

“Oh, don't act as if you don't love me.”

“Whoever said I did must have lied to you. Mingyu laughed as he accelerated through Seoul's crowded streets.

The jokes, the laughter, and the love were all part of the experience of living with one of the biggest Kpop groups.

You wouldn’t have it any other way!

While listening to your playlist, the song "Come to You" perfectly complemented the mood.

You smiled as you passed many streets and watched the busy lives of many different people. You could say you had an imaginative mind.

We arrived at the store a long way down the road, grabbed one of the carts, and proceeded to a separate aisle of the store.

Buying stuff was always expensive with a party of 13 and more friends on the way. Almost everything had to be doubled, and the meat had to be tripled. When throwing a party, everyone is required to provide a dish.

You didn't seem to mind; after all, you weren't paying, so you just chilled on the cart while you watched Mingyu placed the goods in neatly.

You told Mingyu to grab a specific chip as you walked to the chip aisle, and he furrowed his brow.

“What are those? I've never seen them before.

"Dokyeom likes them," you blurted out without a second thought. As you mentally processed what you had said, you stared at him with wide eyes.

Shit.

“When they're not there, Dokyeom and Soonyoung get upset.” You shook your head and scooted by him, tossing two bags into the overflowing shopping cart.

“Oh-okay I guess you can get them.”

As you pushed the cart toward the cashier, you mentally slapped yourself in the face. You were certain that you would not crack.

The ride home was silent as the only noise was the continuous taps from Mingyu's fingers on the wheel.

Mingyu called wonwoo on his phone as he drove up to the dorm and asked him to help with the groceries.

As you heard Mingyu pout over the phone, he refused, and not even minutes after, wonwoo is strolling down the driveway on his way to the car.

“You shouldn't even have picked up I know I wouldn't"  Wonwoo pushed your shoulder and chuckled at your humor. “I know”

“Heyyy I'm right here,” Mingyu began to sulk as he observed his sister speaking without him.

You and wonwoo both chuckled as you gathered your belongings and began walking away from Mingyu.

---

The days went by slowly as you reached the door. It was time to leave the house. You grabbed a jacket and purse. Today, the boys went to Hybe for a quick practice session before heading out for the weekend.

Because you are such a good friend and thoughtful person, you decided to buy them a few drinks as a gift. It wasn't anything special, you didn't want to see anyone, noo.

It took some time to order everything, especially with the large number of 13 items. Since you've known each other for most of your lives, the drinks on the list haven't changed. Ice Americanos and Frappes were the most popular drinks.

As soon as you arrived at the Hybe building, you swiftly grabbed the bag containing the drinks and proceeded to their floor. You finally made it to their practice room after thanking the employees for their assistance.

Slowly pushing the door open, you drew the attention of almost everyone as they turned to face you. As a number of them raced over to you and took the beverages from you, smiles crept across their faces.

As they sipped their drinks, the room was filled with thank yous and hellos.

The voice of an angel said, "Thanks again, y/n." He gave you a short smile before returning to his practice. Oblivious to people around you, words spilled out.

“Fuck, he's so attractive.”

“Whose good looking?” As you slowly turned around, you heard a voice speaking to you from behind you.

Fuck

It's Boo Seungkwan. He smiled at you as he grabbed a drink from your hand. He cocked his head as he sipped it, and his eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me you said dokyeom is good looking, no fucking way.”

As you coughed to relieve the high tension in the air, you started to mentally sweat.

“That's insane, I said the room was in good condition," you said as you slapped his shoulder and shook your head.

Come on, y/n, that didn't even make sense.

“You know you're not going to fool me, y/n?” Afraid that someone would find out, you dragged him into a back room and locked the door behind him

“Shit..shit..shit. If you tell anyone, I swear I'll -

Laughing, before raising his eyebrows after taking a sip of his americano, he cut you off.

"You're right, this is important information. But you already know that I'll keep my mouth shut about the situation. I don’t even know what we’re talking about right now.”

Seungkwan heard dokyeom announce that practice had resumed as the door opened. Before he left, he smiled at you and waved goodbye.

“Y/n and dokyeom in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. As you were about to leap across the couch to silence him, he jumped up and ran out of the door laughing.

All of a sudden, your mind was filled with confusion and paranoia.

It became increasingly difficult to watch them practice as the session progressed. Your thoughts were not positive, and your attitude was slowly deteriorating.

Imagining the worst-case scenario. You paced in the back room when you heard a knock at the door. As you mentally prepared yourself, it caught you off guard. While walking side by side, Hansol and Seungkwan were whispering.

“Did they know?” You didn’t want anyone to find out so you ran, and didn’t stop running. To avoid society, you hurried out the door after saying a quick goodbye to the boys.

The goodbyes were not even heard as you hurried out of the Hybe parking lot without looking back. In a small group, information spreads quickly. And he was bound to find out.

Flushed and worried, you staggered into the dorm room. You knew your secret was going to get out eventually. In the case where Hansol and Seungkwan knew, Joshua is likely to know.

And since Joshua is close to the older boys, Seungcheol and Jeonghan know. The news would then spread to Hoshi, and then the entire performance team would be in the know.

The only remaining candidates are Mingyu and dk. If Mingyu finds out, it's game over for you at that point.

There was no point of living any more. Having completed a full loop of the house, you had come to your room for the final time. You slowly melted to the ground and fell out.

Dokyeon is more likely to know if Mingyu knows.

"What went wrong?" Unable to control yourself as you rolled around the floor, you erupted into a tantrum.

You sat up and shook your head, "I'll just have to leave the country," you said. "Man, you're so smart. Your plan y/n is fantastic."

You ran to your room, grabbed your suitcase from your closet, and began tossing things into.

No need to pack everything since you were only going to be gone for a year. As soon as your adrenaline slowed down, you began packing.

(A few hours later)

You were relieved when your clothes fit into your luggage when you had finally done packing. You were on your way now, and as long as it wasn't here, everything was good.

“Ah, I figured it out; now let's book it.”

When you approached the door, you unlocked it, and we were greeted with a pleasant surprise.

You walked up to the door and opened it, where you were greeted by Mingyu and his gang. Outside the door, you could see him, hao, dk, and wonwoo. They stared at you as they looked you up and down, perplexed as to why you appeared to be departing.

“Um, what is going on and where are you going?” Mingyu reacted with a rejoinder of his own.

Your throat felt as though it was clogging up, and you began sweating furiously under your armpits. Thank god for hoodies.

“Well, I was simply going to visit a friend's house,” you explained.

You knew he wouldn't believe you; he knew most of your friends, and they didn't live that far away for you to be carrying that much.

“First, that's a lie, and second, I need to speak with you, so your "buddy" will have to wait.” You sighed and closed your eyes.

Your escape had to wait.

Mingyu took your suitcase and slid it near the door, while the other members shuffled awkwardly into the room. While the other lads sat in the living room, Wonwoo went to his room.

“Maybe I could escape now?”

“What did you say y/n?” minghao said as he glanced at you.

You waved your hand in front of them and did a walk of shame to your room as you physically and mentally prepared yourself for whatever Mingyu had to say.

So much for your crush now.

Mingyu sat on the edge of your bed, arms crossed, staring at you.

“Sit down, he patted the bed on your side before lightly coughing.

"Some rumors have been going around, so I wanted to clear the air."

Seeing what he was about to say made your heart race, and you couldn't take it any longer. Does anyone else hear their loud banging, could Mingyu hear it?

You leapt to your feet and shouted at him before apologizing on your knees.

What a sight to see, a grown ass woman on her knees apologizing to her twin brother.

“I apologize; I should have told you first, but I was afraid you'd tell him. That's why I kept it a secret and plus dating a member of seventeen. That's dangerous enough-“.

Mingyu's "WHAT" cut you off.

You came to a halt as he got up, slowly staring up at him.

“Wait, weren't we discussing my crush on Dokyeom or something else?” Worries began to creep in as sweat began to accumulate on your brow.

“What the fuck, you have a crush on do-?” you exclaimed as you jumped to your feet and tackled Mingyu to the ground.

“Don't say it so loudly; he'll hear you.” As Mingyu began to pace around the room, as he pushed you off of him.

You could see his anger as he panicked, and his small rage tantrum was truly uncomfortable because he couldn't communicate his ideas to you because he was afraid of his companions' sensitive ears.

He pointed to the door and said, "Wait, so you do have a crush on him." You sighed, shaking your head.

As he walked away from you, he had another outburst.

Everything is now turning to shit, this was your only chance.

“I have to escape” you said as you dashed out the door and to your suitcase. Mingyu was standing behind you, staring at you in terror.

It wasn't in the plan for you to fall on him, but it was still nice. Focus y/n.

“I’m sorry, dokyeom; it was my fault. I didn't realize you were there. “Are you okay?” As you extended your hand to him, you pushed yourself off of him.

“Yeah, I'm OK, are you okay?” he asked. You've had quite a tumble.”

“Yeah I’m good, I live with a clumsily brother so I’m fine”

“Hey!"

You swiftly let go of each other and placed your hands behind your back as you became embarrassed.

“Hey, Seungcheol texted the group chat and said he wants to go out to eat. He said whoever can come.”

The boys instantly got ready as they wanted to eat, food is a great scapegoat. As you saw them exit the dorm, you took a step back and found your way back to your room.

“Is leaving still an option?” you murmured into your pillows, plopping your exhausted body on your bed and overthinking life.

---

You rolled over and looked at the clock, which reads 9:30 a.m.

You turned over in your bed, unable to yell, and trudged to the bathroom to make yourself presentable.

“What have you gotten yourself into, y/n?” You stripped off your clothing and stepped into the hot water after turning on the shower.

You didn't spend much time in the shower, but today you were engrossed in how your plan had devolved into this ordeal.

Resting your head on the tile as the hot water traced down your back, you contemplated on what the HELL you were going to do.

*BANG BANG*

“Y/n hurry up, we have to prepare.”

Hearing Mingyu's voice drew you back to reality as you turned off the water and got out of the shower, unlocking the door and letting him in.

“Hey, no snarky remark?” he said as he watched you walk to your room with your head down. You ignored him as you closed the door and prepared for the party.

It didn't take long for your calm disposition to be noticed, since you were the outspoken one. Even if you tried to fake it, it didn't work out.

You grinned as you walked through the background of Seungcheol and Jeonghan shared housing, looking at the celebration.

There were groups of people near the pool, at the grill, and even by the chairs, as you could see.

“Hey, bring the food inside; I'll take the meat to cheol,” mingyu said, shaking your head as you picked up the bags and headed to the kitchen, where you recognized some familiar faces.

“Y/nnnnnnnnn, heyyyyy, I’ve missed you.” When you saw her, you put the bags on the counter and hugged her, smiling into her embrace.

“It's great to see you again, yeji; how are you and the rest of the group doing?” Are the others here?” As she led you back outside, she interlaced your hands in hers.

You saw dokyeom and a few other people descend the steps before you left, as he waved and gave you a quick glance.

As you reach for a drink from the cooler, your heart begins to race. Something had to be turned off if you wanted to make it through the night, and this was the only way.

You took a sip and coughed loudly as you followed Yeji to the poolside.

It was going to be a long night for you.

---

As you and a group of individuals began to dance uncontrollably, the effects of the alcohol in your system began to show as you staggered to the grill.

“HeEeeyyYY, Wheeeere d'ya think yeeeeer goin’?” you slurred, jabbing a finger into seungcheol’s back

The other members laughed as they glanced at you, plainly detecting your intoxication.

“I forgot how drunk you can get, so why don't you take a break,” your overprotective brother says, making you scream within.

He always did this.

Gerroff me!” you said. “I’m ash sober ash ’m gonna git. And nuffink I - wait wait wait - nuffink you can do ‘boutit.” As you ambled back to the kitchen without so much as a hiccup in their direction, they laugh.

As you struggled to reach the door, you fell forward and were grabbed by a hand. As he lifted you from your imminent doom, his hold felt warm. With your eyes enlarged, you focused on the individual and stared at his face.

As you grabbed on to him, your words tumbled out of your mouth, “Ohmygoshimsosorry.” He drew you closer to him by taking your hands in his.

Saying your heart was racing was an understatement, it was literally pounding out of your chest. You were hand in hand with your crush, who you believed was exceptionally attractive and talented, and you wished he knew more about your sentiments or could somehow fill them.

But you know no huge idol like him would go for you. Feeling that made you sober up real fast as you felt your arm being pulled upstairs, you had no idea where you were going but it looked like someone's room.

Dokyeom eased open the door as he sat you on the bed and went to get some water from a little fridge. He handed it to you and sat next to you.

“Thanks”

“No problem, also I've been trying to talk to you all night but you appear to be occupied.”

As you took a sip of water, your heart began to beat faster; “waitttt, we donthavetotalk. Let’s dance! As he chuckled at your erratic movements, you began to wander around the room, pulling your hands into yours.

The alcohol was definitely making its way out of your system.

As he spun you around, his body in tune with the music, the bass of the song could still be heard. Even though this felt like a dream you didn’t quite care at the moment. Was it because you'd finally met the boy from your dreams, or was it because he wanted to meet you in person?

Your connection with him got stronger by the second, as did your heartbeat, which began to rise steadily with it. You couldn't keep stalling any longer; you needed to listen to what he was saying.

“I think I'm sober up for now,” you said as you let go of his hand.

Dokyeom chuckled before tossing his head back, “I didn't realize you could move like that” he said as they sat back on the bed, a little closer than before.

“I guess I learnt a few things along the way when you're friends with the best dancers out here.” As you finished your sentence, he peered into your eyes, making no sound as the room fell silent.

“Soo, what did you want to talk about?” you awkwardly state to relieve some tension in the air.

“I don't know how to explain it, but I kind of heard your "secret" as it passed through the practice room, and I simply wanted to be the first one to tell you about it because-

Your heart stopped pounding as your world came crashing down around you. You didn't want to hear it; the rejection; you'd rather live in your fantasy world, where you don't have to worry about anything. It wasn't true if you didn't hear it.

“Wait, if you can't reconcile those feelings, don't say anything; just let me go.” They're probably curious about our whereabouts anyway.” And with that, you stood up and walked towards the door, but you were pulled back by his hand.

He kissed you as swiftly as his hands linked with yours. You were taken aback at first by his passion, but you regained your calm and reminded yourself of what was going on: he was really kissing you, and you were really kissing him, and the rest of the world was inconsequential.

You were chilling on the outside while shouting for joy at the top of your lungs on the inside, as if your inner child had been set free. You had to be sure if this was a dream or if it was happening in real life.

“Ouch”

“Why did you do that?” Dokyeom asked as he gripped your arm in his.

“I had to double-check that I wasn't dreaming; this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me.”

“So you're saying I've been in your dreams?” he laughed as he cocked his head to the side and placed his hand in yours.”

You smacked your forehead and shook your head, realizing you couldn't get out of this one, and now he knew you fantasize about him. You didn't mind because the lad of your dreams was right in front of your eyes.

AND HE WAS HOLDING YOUR MF HAND. It was clear that your diary needed to be updated.

Stopping at the door, you placed your palm on his chest and worriedly stared at him.

“Wait, how did you find out?” 

“Well, a tiny birdie was chattering loudly about it, his name rhymes with coo,” he said as he grabbed your hand in his and opened the door and began the walk downstairs.

“Fucking Boo Seungkwan”

[lottiebagley]

Don’t get over me- Fred Weasley

Fred sits with his arms crossed and a fake smile on his face. Half listening to George who is rambling on and Fred feels like his head is spinning.

The memory of her looking insanely beautiful and yet nervous as she entered the common room. She was timid when she asked Fred if she looked okay. She was laughing when he twirled her around calling her a princess. She was blushing when he pressed a kiss to her cheek before sending her on her way, watching as Alicia double checked the girls hair and touched up her make up before sending her out of the room.

He watched on the map, that he'd asked Harry if he could borrow for the  very reason of torturing himself, as she left the castle grounds. Blood boiling at the thought of her date asking her out and then not picking her up.

Blood boiling at the thought of anyone but him asking her out.

He scowls as he sits in the courtyard, George had coaxed him out into the summer heat to help get his mind off his best friend he was in love with and her date with Adrian Pucey.

"Here comes trouble," George calls with a smirk, the grin on his face falling immediately when he recognises the look on his girlfriends face. "Angie, what's wrong?" He questions worriedly, jumping up from his seat to approach her.

"Fred you need to come now," She instructs, George even more baffled and almost hurt that his upset looking girlfriend was seeking his brother for comfort.

"What's the problem?" Fred questions, not really in the mood to deal with whatever's happening, his plans to sulk all day ruined.

"It's Y/N, she just-" Angelina is cut off as Fred leaps to his feet, George not sure if he should feel happy Angelina is okay or worried for his friend.

"Where is she?" Fred demands, feet already carrying him away from the others

"Her dorm, but she won't-" Angelina sighs, giving up on trying to talk to Fred as he sprints away.

Having successfully knocked down a first year and been shouted at by Filch, Fred arrives at the Gryffindor girls dormitory. Stopping his sprint at the sight of Alicia, knocking on the door with worry in her eyes.

"What's going on?" Fred questions, panting slightly

"We aren't really sure. We were in town and she ran past crying so obviously we followed but she's locked herself in and she won't talk to anyone," Alicia explains as she moves away from the door to allow Fred to take her place.

"Thanks Al, I've got it from here," he smiles to the girl who nods and leaves the best friends in peace. Fred knocks on the door

"Go away!" he hates that her shouted response is enough to let him know she's still crying, he can hear the crack in her voice.

"Sweetheart, it's me. Can I come in?" he calls through the door.

"No!"

"Why? it's only me I promise," he sighs, she never turns him away.

"I don't want you to see me like this," she groans. His heart sinks in his chest.

"Lovie, I hate to be the bearer or bad news but I've seen you in some pretty low points, cleaned sick out of your hair, nursed you to health, we went camping and you didn't sleep for 32 hours and couldn't shower. Reckon I can see you upset, it's nothing I haven't seen before," he tries to compromise, his head leaning on the wooden door

"It's embarrassing," she cries out, voice cracking

"Whatever it is I will have done worse, besides, it's just me sweetheart, I'm not gonna judge you," he assures, not quite realising that it being him was the whole damn point, unable to say no to him she sighs and moves towards the door unlocking it.

Fred pushes the door open the second he hears the lock shift, throwing his arms around her in a tight bear hug as she sniffles into his shirt.

"What happened darling?" He cooes, moving carefully to sit on her bed and pulling her into his lap without a second thought, holding her to him as she stares at him. Her eyes look sore from crying and her nose is red, her makeup streaking and damp sticky cheeks and yet to Fred she's the most beautiful thing in the world.

"He stood me up," she admits, not bothering to try and hide what was sure to be the talk of the school no matter how embarrassing it is to admit to her crush. "He stood me up and his friends sat at a table and laughed at me,"

Fred feels his blood boil, his heart beating faster. He wants to throw her from his lap, find Adrian and pummel the guy to death and then find any friends involved and do the same to them.

Instead he forces himself to take a deep breath, pulling her back to his chest and stroking her back gently, whispering sweet nothings into her hair as another round of cries escapes her. He holds her close until she settles down in his lap.

"Hey, you listen to me sweetheart, he is so fucking stupid. You are the most beautiful girl on this entire planet and you are smart and kind and funny and if Adrian Pucey can't see that then good riddance you didn't give him a minute of your time. You can and will do so, so, so, much better than him and you saying yes to him is the best thing that'll ever happen to him and I mean that," He rambles, his eyes searching hers, trying to find any hurt in them so he can melt it away with gentle touches and loving words.

"I just feel so stupid," she admits with a sigh as Fred adjusts his arms slightly to better hold her on his lap.

"He's the stupid one. You, my lovely, are golden, and he's an idiot if he doesn't realise that,"

"I'm just never good enough,"

"Hey," he scolds lightly "None of that,"

"I'm not though. Not enough for him, not enough for Cormac-"

"That was a blessing," Fred smirks, laughing when she rolls her eyes

"Not enough for Leo, I mean I had a boy who is practically a saint and he cheated on me, not enough for my dad, not enough for you, not enough for Oli or Alex or Chr-" her ramble is cut off by Fred who's heart is falling to his feet.

"Me? What do you mean me?" he asks, eyes wide. How had he ever let this girl think she wasn't enough for him?

"I-it- I don't know," she sighs, he raises his eyebrows and she takes a deep breath before talking once more. "I guess, well- look don't freak out alright? I've liked you since third year and I always just thought if I was more. Y'know prettier and smarter and funnier- I guess I just thought if I had been enough you'd like me back, but you don't and that is fine. I don't hold  it against you and it's not your fault and I don't want this to change anything and-" she cuts off her own ramble, her tears misting over once more at the feeling in her stomach. She was about to loose Fred. "Please say something," She whispers.

Fred had never been someone who struggled to talk, but, in that moment he feels his entire world stop spinning, everything falling into place and his heart soaring.

"Like me?" He questions

"Yeah. It's why I said yes to Adrian, thought maybe it would help me get over you,"

"Don't do that," He speaks too quickly "Don't get over me," he demands, she blinks a little "Get under me- wait!- I didn't mean- well you can if you want I very much welcome that-I just- I have liked you since the day I met you on the train and I never said it cause I didn't want to ruin us but, sweetheart, I liked you so much it might even be love and I have wanted this forever," He rambles, his breathing becoming easier when a large smile overtakes her face.

"I could get under you," she teases, giggling as he rolls his eyes, leaning down from her seat in his lap.

Her lips meet his and the whole world takes a moment. Nothing matters. Not that when he cups her cheeks in his hands her face is damp, not the slightly salty taste of her tears, not that Fred is still ready to go and kill Adrian, not that George and Angelina are listening in from behind the door, not that it could have all happened so long ago.

No.

All that matters is her and him. The feeling of him pulling her closer and the way her fingers tangle in her hair. The way they're smiling into the kiss. The way everything fits perfectly. It's her and it's all they ever needed.

She pulls away breathless, giggling when Fred's lips chase after her's subconsciously, willing to be close to her again.

"It could definitely be love," She whispers, her eyes fluttering open to see Fred beaming up at her.

"You think?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do," she grins.

"I'm going to go and kill Adrian now," Fred announces

"There's plenty of time for that," She argues, gripping herself to him tighter as he laughs at her clinging to him

"Something you'd rather be doing?" He teases

"I believe you mentioned something about being under you," She smirks, Fred's grin widening

"You're right. Adrian can wait,"

**

Masterlist 

[yandere-dark-cupid]

If you’re requests are open can I get a Yandere Zuko x fem reader where after the war he looks for his darling by making his guards track her down but without anyone knowing bc he doesn’t want ppl to think that he’s back into his old ways again and keeps her in the palace

Ok Angel 💜👌💜. If you want, I could continue this as a mini part to part scenario series if I have the time T.Angel. There is just so many ideas worming around this concept and just think of the crazy things the darling and Zuko is going to go through, while also keeping both of their identities on the veeery low-key. Just let me know Angel 😊☕💜.

Also everyone is going to be aged up to 18+ Btw.

Side note: For the sake of this scenario, the darling will be from the Southern Water tribe. If this Angel decides to let me continue this as a mini scenario series, then the both of us are going to talk about if the darling can be a Waterbender or not.

Warning ⚠!!!: Their is going to be some slight Nsfw in this.

Yandere Zuko: A Dragon's treasure

Five weeks. It has been five weeks since you've went missing. Once the war has ended, Zuko was planning to propose to you. But every since his coronation of being crowned the new FireLord, you just up and vanished. It was like you were never there in the first place. And Zuko has been scattering everywhere in the palace and Fire nation to find you or some type of clue. But nothing. There was nothing there. You really covered your tracks, didn't you?

Right now Zuko was in his thrown room. He was fuming- No steaming with rage. If anyone were to walk in to the room, they'll notice it was boiling in there. He tried to look everywhere in the palace. Even outside the palace. But to no avail. Zuko couldn't find you. You've made it clear that you don't want to be with him or any where near him with this type of stunt you've pulled.

Zuko took a seat on his thrown. His hands was on his head, just about ready to pull his hair out and shout in frustration. But then a knock on the door stop him. " *Frustrated sigh* State your name and your business." Zuko said with spite and a hint of venom in his voice. The person behind the door flinched at his tone of voice. "It's me Sir. The guard you put in charge of the search party for Ms.Y/N". Zuko perked up at the mention of his missing lover's name. " Come in. " said Zuko. With out a second thought, the guard entered the room. She bowed down in respect for her FireLord.

" FireLord Zuko I have an update about Ms.Y/N's whereabouts. " Said the guard. She almost stuttered. The guard noticed how extremely hot it was in the thrown room. It was a clear sign that FireLord Zuko was pissed out of his mind. " Well, " Zuko said in annoyance and anger. Zuko was beyond angry at this point. He was a whole entire cluster fuck of emotions right now. " M-me and m-my crew found some people who could be connected to Ms.Y/N's disappearance , your majesty. " Stuttered the guard in slight fear. Zuko quirked up an eyebrow at what the guard said.

Ah. So the guard managed to find the ones responsible for his darling's vanishment, or at least had some part in it. " Bring them in. " Zuko said. The guard only merely nodded, not wanting to meet the FireLord's intimidating gaze. The guard got off their knees and went to call the other guards, to bring out the people that played some part of the darling going missing. The other guards quickly brought out four other people. Those people was tied up, bounded, and blind folded. The people was visibly quivering in fear. They were very confused and scared on what they did to upset the FireLord.

The four guards forcefully pushed the four people down to the floor. Each guard took off each person's blind fold. In front of the four people, there sat the FireLord in all his glory. FireLord Zuko glared down at the 4 people in a burning gaze. So these disgusting pathetic excuses of human was responsible for his darling going missing. Zuko scoffed at the thought. After a painful intimidating stare down, Zuko finally spoke. " So your the ones held responsible for Y/N's disappearance. " Zuko spat out to them with his voice dipped in poison.

" I-if y-you're talking about a someone that has (h/c), (e/c), and (s/c) then t-they came to m-my store to buy clothes." The woman stuttered in fear. Zuko stayed quite and only listened. " If you're talking about the same person; they came to my food stand and brought some food. " the old man said quickly in fear of what the FireLord would do to him if he took so long to explain himself. Zuko only merely quirks his eyebrow. " Y-yeah, that same person came to my Shop and bought some bags and extra equipment as his they were going on a trip. " The man said while sweating nervously. " The same person came to shack a-and brought some w-weapons. " Said the short lady in fear. Zuko only hmmed at what they said.

" So you're telling me the lady you just described went to all of your stores and shops to buy something. " Zuko said still glaring down the four people. " Y-yes. " the woman squeaked in fear. The old man only nodded quickly. " Mhm. " both the man and woman said. Zuko got up from his thrown and began to walk down to his stand. " What should we do with them you highness? " Said one of the guards. " Bring them to the dungeon. I will decide what to do with them later. " Said Zuko. " I-I don't understand what did we do wrong. " Stuttered the woman in fear and nervousness. Zuko quickly turned to the woman, the woman quickly shuts her mouth. Zuko then begins to slowly walk towards her.

Zuko shot one of his hands out and grasps the woman's face in a painful grip. The woman squeaks in surprise and fear. Zuko just merely just glares down at her. His eyes is filled with a flaming rage. " You all are held responsible for the disappearance of Y/N, " Zuko spat out in anger. Zuko releases his hand from woman's face. Zuko steps away from the woman and is now in front of the four bounded people. " Since you all play a part in my- err Y/N's disappearance, you all will be punished accordingly. " The four people only shook even more at FireLord Zuko's statement. " All of you take them away were they'll never see the light of day again. " Zuko said with venom dripping from his voice.

The four guards only bowed and said a quick " yes sir ". With that they took the four people away. Now Zuko was once again left in his thrown room...... alone.

Zuko let out a sigh of frustration out. He walked towards a window that was in the room. He stared down at his people, he was thinking about something. Based on what the four people said, Zuko can conclude that his darling is no longer in the Fire nation. Zuko dug into his pocket and took out something. It was a necklace. A betrothed necklace to be more specific. You see his darling was not from the fire nation, no no no. You were from a Water tribe, the Southern Water tribe to put it. While Zuko was on his trip to help Aang defeat his father and help him master firebending, Zuko found out from Katara on what her necklace means. He found out that from the Water tribe in order to marry someone, you have to make a betrothed necklace and give it to that special someone. When Zuko found out about this type of information, he instantly got rapped up about it. Ever since he's joined team Avatar he was thinking about what life would be like when he becomes FireLord, then his thoughts were drawn into marriage. He can't help but think, his darling would make the perfect FireLady. His FireLady.

And they'll have children. They'll be lovely children. With his darling swelled up with another one of his heirs all while holding another one of their children. It'll truly be a.. delicious sight to see ~ Zuko hmmed in delight at the thought of his darling bearing his children. But... that's if he witness such a darling sight. Zuko groaned at his mood being dampened and soured. But he knows it's true. Zuko knows if he doesn't act fast, he'll lose his darling. And that lovely little scene that played in his mind, will be nothing but a mere fantasy. Besides, he doesn't want to get himself accidentally sexual frustrated.....

With that aside, Zuko begins to start planning and strategizing. Zuko walks away from the window. He calls a servant, he orders them to get one of his best generals. The servant was slightly hesitant and confused, but never the less terrified. Wasn't the war over? They pushed their question aside, because they know now wouldn't be the best time to question the FireLord. He hasn't been acting himself lately and has been been flaring up at anything these past few weeks. With out much of a second thought, they did as they were told and went to see if someone could get one of the generals FireLord Zuko was talking about.

Zuko on the other hand, went back to sit on his thrown. He knew it will take time for the general to get here, so he decided to sit and be patient for him to get here. All while doing this, Zuko began to plan out in his mind on how he was going to get his darling. He was thinking about getting some of the Fire nation's best spies to help track down his darling. Sending out a whole search team and alerting the public while cause some type of panic. Not only that but he's trying to show that He and the Fire nation has turned over a new leaf, that and he doesn't want people and the other members of team Avatar know he's basically going back to his old ways. Since everybody knows the history on how he went to the ends of the earth to find and Capture the Avatar, and he's basically doing the same for his darling. It'll put a bad name on him and an even worse name on the Fire nation. So he'll lay as low as possible and keep shush shush about it, so he doesn't rise suspicion and ruin all the hard work he's been putting in the past time he's became FireLord.

With all those thoughts in mind, Zuko decides to call the same servant from before. So he can see if his message has been delivered. The Servant said they already sent a messaging hawk out to see if they can reach the general. Zuko only hmmed and dismissed them, and told them to report back to him once the massage has been delivered. With that the servant left, leaving Zuko in his thrown room. Zuko dug into his pocket again. He took out the Betrothed necklace out. He gently creased and rubbed the engraving and creases. He took so many hours and very much effort into making this for his darling. Looking at it always made him feel calmer, it made him happy knowing that his darling will be wearing it soon. But then his darling ran away from him before he can give it to them. Zuko pushed down on the purple garnet at the thought of his darling running away from him ( the rest of the necklace's gems are made up of smaller bits of Rudy and sapphire ). Zuko let out another sigh of frustration. He began to think. Once is darling is back with him he's never letting them go...........

My God, this was a boom ass idea. Not only that, but an idea of Zuko having a bit of a breeding kink has been floating around in my mind for some time now. I had a lot of fun with this. Like I said before T.Angel, If you want me to make a mini scenarios series about this let me know 😆! Well I hope you enjoy it. Until next time my Little Tainted Angels, see you soon ~💜❤💜

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

I would love to see Harry jealous because his wife give a man ( Kindergarten teacher ) a compliment that he deals really well with Stevie.

this got kind of long oops, hope you like it :)

it's kind of cute

warnings: none

word count: 2k

“Time to go, Stevie!” You called, adjusting your coat in the mirror by the door. “Come get your shoes!”

You heard her feet pattering on the hall floor before Harry yelled, jumping out at her and scooping her up. She screamed in delight, laughing as he hoisted her onto his shoulders.

“Look at me!” She yelled, holding her arms out to her sides. “I’m so tall!”

“You are,” you laughed. “Is my tall girl ready to go?”

“I think our tall girl needs some shoes first,” Harry said, lifting her down. “The pink ones or the yellow ones?”

She thought intently before picking up the yellow shoes. She beamed when she got them on the right feet on the first try.

“Good job!” Harry said, reaching down to high-five her. Shoes were a tricky thing to learn. There had been a lot of struggling, but she was finally getting the hang of it.

She smiled, jumping up from the floor. Harry held her coat, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves.

“Let’s go! Come on, mom,” She said, bouncing on her feet. “Go faster!”

“Yeah, mum, hurry up,” Harry said jokingly. You shot him a look, opening the door so Stevie could run to the car.

Harry put his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the car.

“She’s getting so big,” he commented. “Why can’t she just stay our little baby?”

“Very unfortunate,” you sighed. You made sure Stevie was settled before getting in and buckling your own seatbelt. Harry got in the driver’s seat, starting the car.

“I’m in the mood for some Moana,” he said, handing you his phone before he pulled out of the driveway. “What do you think, Stevie?”

“Moana!” She yelled, eyes lighting up.

You shared a smile with Harry as she began belting out the lyrics.

“I wonder where she got her singing voice?”

“No idea,” he laughed.

-----

He pulled into the school parking lot, stopping the music to grandly announce, “We’re here!”

Stevie gasped in excitement, already fidgeting with her seatbelt. Harry opened her door for her, holding her hand so she could jump down. You took her other hand, swinging her arms between you as you walked toward the school.

“Alright, Stevie, where are we going?” You asked, even though you knew where her classroom was.

“Yeah, we don’t know where it is, you have to help us!” Harry said excitedly. “Lead the way, princess!”

Stevie let go of your hands as she marched down the hall.

“Look at her, so grown up,” he said sadly, taking your now empty hand in his.

“I know, she’s practically an adult. Oh, she’s going to be in middle school soon, and then high school, and then college, and then she’ll be gone,” you said, getting emotional already.

“Wait, wait, we can’t get ahead of ourselves yet, this is a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, we have a few years.”

“Right, you’re right,” you smiled.

“Here it is!” Stevie announced, pointing at the door, which was decorated to look like a box of crayons.

“Oh, how cute!” You said, noting that each crayon was labeled with a student’s name. “Stevie, you’re the yellow one! It matches your shoes!”

“I know!” She said excitedly. “That’s why I wore them!”

“Very smart, Stevie. Very fashionable,” Harry said, ruffling her hair.

He opened the door, allowed both of you to walk in ahead of him.

“Hello! Hi Stevie, it’s good to see you!” Her teacher said, waving you over to his desk.

“Hi Mr. Jeffery!” She said, running over to him. “Is it here?”

“Of course it is! It’s right over there on the drying rack, if you want to show your mom and dad,” he said, pointing across the room.

She ran in the direction he pointed. When she came back, she was carrying a painting of a butterfly.

“Did you make that?” Harry asked, crouching down to inspect her artwork. “Wow, this is amazing, love! We’ll put this on the fridge so everyone can see it,” he promised, smiling.

“Yes, Stevie loves our art projects, don’t you?” Mr. Jeffery asked, smiling when she nodded enthusiastically.

“I have to talk to your mom and dad for a few minutes, Stevie. What would you like to do while we talk?”

“Color!” She said, shoving the butterfly painting into Harry’s arms.

“Alright, do you remember where the crayons are?”

“Yes I do!” She ran over to the art section, busying herself immediately.

“Yes, she’s very into art,” You said, smiling as you and Harry settled into the chairs behind Mr. Jeffery’s desk.

“I’ve noticed! She’s taken a particular interest in painting. Does she do a lot of that at home?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry laughed. “Y/N isn’t so happy with that, though, she’s ruined quite a few shirts.”

“We try to steer her towards more... dry activities,” you said, smiling.

“Well, that’s understandable,” Mr. Jeffery laughed, clicking around on his computer. “So, today I just want to talk about her progress. As you probably know, she does extremely well in several areas. She can do some sight reading, which is not something we see very often at this age. She is also doing very well with her numbers, colors, and shapes.”

Harry beamed as Mr. Jeffery laid out how well Stevie was doing. Of course, he already knew she was the most amazing child in the world, but it was nice to have outside validation.

“That’s great, we tried to expose her to as much reading as we could, we really wanted her to be prepared,” you said.

“You did an excellent job,” he smiled, looking at you.

Harry didn’t like this, even though he knew it was this man’s job to reassure and praise parents. He just didn’t like the way he looked at you. He was smiling a little too much.

“Yes, we did,” Harry said, leaning a little closer to you. He looked at the teacher with a face that was just a little less than friendly.

Mr. Jeffery cleared his throat, turning back to his computer.

“As for her social skills, she is also doing very well there. Aside from the normal kindergarten spats, she has no issues getting along with the other children. She communicates very well with the other teachers and myself. We really don’t have any problems,” he smiled again, this time making sure not to look at you for too long.

“Looks like we did a good job,” you beamed, nudging Harry. His intimidating face dropped and he smiled as he took your hand.

“Look at us go,” he said, looking across the room to where Stevie was still coloring.

“You’re very good with her,” you said, following his gaze. “I know she can be a handful sometimes,” you laughed, turning slightly to Mr. Jeffery.

Harry’s jaw tightened when he saw your face. He knew you were smiling from looking at Stevie, but he still didn’t like how happy Mr. Jeffery looked. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, causing you to shoot him a confused look. He kept his eyes fixed on Stevie, willing himself to stay calm. Y/N hasn’t done anything wrong, he reminded himself.

“No, she’s usually very well behaved,” he said, flipping through his notes. “Again, we’ve had very few problems.”

“I’m glad to hear,” you said, running your other hand up and down Harry’s forearm.

“Well, that’s all I have for you today, unless you have any other questions?” He asked, looking you and Harry. You looked at him, both shaking your heads at the same time.

“I think we’re good,” you said, turning back to him with a smile.

“Alright, well it was good to see you today,” Mr. Jeffery said, standing to shake hands with you. Harry watched intently, not blinking until the man pulled away from you. When he reached for him, Harry made sure to squeeze a little tighter than necessary. Not too hard. Just enough to make him nervous.

“If you have any more questions, please feel free to contact me,” he said, smiling tightly.

“Yes, we’ll do that,” Harry said, not breaking eye contact. Finally, Mr. Jeffery stepped away to get Stevie. Harry moved his arm to rest over your shoulders again, smiling at Stevie when she skipped over.

“Did you make us a pretty drawing?” He asked, removing his arm to bend down. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he beamed. “Another one for the fridge, I think!”

Stevie giggled, taking your hand as she turned to wave at her teacher.

“Bye Mr. Jeffery! See you later,” she said, completely unaware of how tense Harry was behind her.

Harry placed his hand on your back, shepherding you both out of the room. Once the door was closed, you stepped away to look at him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concerned at how tight his face was. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Harry shook his head, flicking his eyes towards Stevie, trying to communicate not now.

You frowned, but silently agreed, taking his hand as you walked down the hall.

Harry was quiet the entire ride home. He didn’t sing along to the Disney music, even when Stevie yelled out “everybody!” before the big chorus. This was concerning. He usually sang even when Stevie didn’t want him to, and he could normally never resist her cheering him on. Something was definitely wrong, but you could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now.

It couldn’t be that bad, though, because he was still holding your hand like he had been since you left Mr. Jeffery’s room. He had only let go of you when you had to get in the car.

Once you got home, Stevie ran off to her room, yelling something about “a tea party with Mr. Snuffles!”

“Harry?” You asked gently, approaching your husband. His back was facing you and his hands were braced against the counter. “Harry, really, what happened? Did I do something?”

“No,” he turned around quickly. “No, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for you. You wrapped your arms around him, listening to his deep breathing as he held you.

“Ok, then what’s the problem? You looked so mad when we were talking to Mr. Jeffery,” you said. “What?” You asked again when felt him tense up at your words.

“Nothing, it’s just- it’s stupid,” he said, shaking his head.

“Harry, nothing that upsets you this much is stupid.”

“It’s just- ugh,” he groaned, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. “I just hated how he looked at you.”

“You- what?” You said, pulling back. He looked at you, embarrassed.

“I told you it’s stupid,” he said, blushing. “I just didn’t like how you were talking to him, saying how good he was with Stevie, and how happy he looked. I don’t know, it’s dumb,” he mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Hey, come on,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

“No?” He asked, looking at you again.

“No, it’s not,” you said, smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“It’s not cute,” he said grumpily. “I feel like a child.”

“You’re not a child,” you promised, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Maybe a little immature, but-“

“You’re so mean!” He exclaimed, laughing. “I’m so nice to you, and you repay me how? By hurting my feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” you smiled, kissing his cheek again.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But only if you give me a kiss.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt 3)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, smut mentioned

Word count: 7,000 +

You wake up the next morning fully exhausted.

After yet another round before you both cooked dinner, you ended dinner with Takuro fucking you against the wall as you gushed around his cock.

You hadn't fucked that much since you were in your early 20s. And for a man in his late 40s, Takuros stamina was unmatched.

It took you an hour to pack up and leave because he had to fuck you again in the bedroom and on the couch.

"I seriously can't get enough of you" He says as he walks you to your car.

"Well we will definitely be having more sleep overs very soon" you say as he kisses you.

"Dont leave" he says, hugging you tightly "Please stay"

"Taku I can't Kenji will be home soon" you say as you places kisses on his neck.

"When are we going to tell him Y/N? He deserves to know" Takuro said

He was right. Kenji needed to know.  The last thing you wanted was to lie to your son,

"I'll talk to him tonight ok" you say as Takuro smiles at you and kisses you goodbye.

You arrive home grabbing your bag from the car. You hope Kenji isn't home yet as you approach your house. You see a light on.

fuck

You open the door and walk in.

"Hi Kenji, sorry I'm late. I was at grandma and gran-" you say as you look up to see your son glaring at you.

"Kenji are you ok?" You say with concern on your face.

"Oh I don't know mom. How would you feel if you saw your mother kiss your coach in public?" He says as your eyes widen.

"Thought I was going to grab some snacks but turns out I got a whole ass meal in the form of my mother making out with my volleyball coach! What in the actual fuck mom? How long? How long have you been lying to me?" He screams at you as you shutter back

You've never seen your son so angry as he is right now.

"It's one thing for you to come to out games Mom but for you to date my coach?? Seriously mom that's too far" Kenji screams at you as you stand there absorbing it all.

"I mean Jesus Christ mom! You couldn't go an date some other random man! Why can't you just get your own life! Instead you have to fuck my coach! I hate you!" He screams as he stomps to his room slamming his door.

You can't say anything. You're completely frozen.

He hated you. The words swarmed your mind over and over 

Had you going out with Takurō really affected Kenji this much? You feel your eyes begin to swell as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You turn, slowly moving to your room as you feel the tears begin to fall faster.

You didn't sleep much that night. Not at all really. You couldn't believe you broke you child's trust like that. You hated yourself and hated that you made him so uncomfortable. 

 You had to talk to Takuro. You sent him an early text at 5am as you made your way to the kitchen. You noticed Kenji's door was still closed ad you made coffee and fruit to take to your room. You return to a message asking to meet you before morning practice.

You get dressed and leave the house without a sound. You try to be as quiet as you can be as to not disturb your sleeping kid. I've already messed up his life enough I don't want to mess up his sleep you say to yourself as you get in your car and drive to the school. It's 6:00am by the time you arrive. Takurō is already waiting for you.

You get out of your car as he notices the tears spilling from your eyes.

"Y/N what's wrong is everything ok?" He rushes to you and pulls you into a hug. Your tears completely drowning out everything, including the preying eyes of a certain 2nd year manager as she approaches the side of the school.

 Mai stops when she sees you and the coach. She hears you crying and backs up next to the gym to listen.

"I'm sorry Takuro but I can't keep seeing you" you say as yu look at him with tears streaming down your face.

"I don’t understand Y/N I thought-" Takuro says concerned

"Kenji found out about our dates. Apparently he saw us with a few members of the team. He was really upset and told me I need to stay out of his school life" you say as your tears begin to flow quicker.

Takuro pulls you into a hug. He doesn't want you to be upset

"Y/N let me talk to him please I want to be with you" Takuro says as he pulls away placing his hand under your chin.

"Takuro no please he already hates me enough. I can't lose my son. He's right I should have never pryed in his life. I'm so sorry Takuro. I really like you but I can't do this to Kenji" you say as you back up to gave him.

Takuro is devastated to say the least. The women he cares so deeply for is forced to make a choice because he had crossed the line between parent and coach.

"No Y/N, it's my fault. I'm sorry that this happened. I don't blame you. If anything this is my fault. I should have been more responsible. You are Kenji's mom and I'm his coach. It was inappropriate" he says as he looks down.

Somehow it hurt even more to hear Takuro say those words. You knew he cared for you but he was trying to take the burden of your son's blame off of you.

Meanwhile Mai is both crying and furious. 

Could Kenji really be this big of an ass?

"Thank you for supporting the boys Y/N. It was a pleasure" Takuro says as he waves to you turning to walk towards the gym.

You get in your car as you start to drive home. The tears consistently rolling down your cheeks. You park the car as you completely lose your cool. You start beating on the steering wheel screaming and crying as you let all your pent up emotions out.

you're neighbors probably think your insane

After 15 minutes you walk in the house, noticing Kenji's door is open. You decide to leave him be as you make your way to your room still sniffling from your car melt down. 

You walk into your room and lay down. You've already called out of work for the day as you feel like you just mentally can't do it. You lay in bed as you feel the emotions take over again.

Meanwhile Kenji arrives at school. He's still mad about his discovery of yours and his coaches relationship. He can't believe you would do such a thing to him. To invade his personal life like that.

Coach doesn't say anything though out practice. Kenji figures his mom already has him in her side through this whole ordeal. Why wouldn't he be?

"Mai can you tell coach we need to get the jerseys altered" Kenji says to Mai as she watches coach look to Kenji and walk out of the gym.

"Tell him yourself" Mai says snarkily as she turns away.

"Mai just do it" Kenji says "i’m not in the mood today"

"Why because you’re ashamed you made your mom cry" Mai yells as the team stops.

Mai looks at Kenji and she's pissed.

"You know you have the sweetest kindest mom in the entire world and she's happy. But you can't have that can you Kenji because you're a massive ass" Mai screams.

Kenji is heated. He doesn't know how Mai found out but he isn't going to take being yelled at.

"Mai you have no idea what you're even talking about so just butt out" Kenji screams at her and Aone walks in from of Mai forming a protective barrier.

"It's ok Aone. I'm not scared of Kenji" she says as steps in front of Aone "you know what I saw this morning Kenji? I saw your mom and coach in the parking lot. And your mom was crying. Like hard core crying telling coach that she couldn't see him anymore."

Mai is shouting at Kenji as Kenji just stares.

You were really crying? And worse is he caused it? 

"You know Kenji your mom goes out of her way to do everything for this team! Coach shows interest in her and she likes him back and suddenly its an attack on you?" Mai is screaming at this point, tears flowing down her face.

The team watches in shock. They have never seen Mai this angry before.

"Newsflash asshole you're mom is allowed to be happy! She told coach she couldn't see him anymore because of you! She told him she didn't want to hurt YOU KENJI. Your mom is heartbroken and she's worried because he son is upset because she's happy? Give me a fucking break!" Mai screams one last time as she turns to walk out of the gym, slamming the door behind her.

The boys stand in silence. Kenji is shocked.

you really liked coach that much and you really cared enough about him to ruin whatever you and coach had going on?

The team turns as they shake their heads in disbelief at Kenji, even Aone shows emotion.

"You are the only one who sees an issue here Kenji" he speaks as he walks back to join the team.

Kenji walks out of the gym doors as he slides down the outer walls. He really was being an ass. He didn't care about your feelings only his own personal standings as the captain of the iron wall.

He got up walking to the coaches office. He knocks as Takuro directs him to enter.

Takuro looks up at Kenji and back to his paperwork. He doesn't sound good. He sounds like he's upset.

"Yes Futakuchi" Takuro chokes out.

Kenji clears his throat "do you really care about her?"

Takuro looks up from his work spinning around his in chair.

"I do but she made it clear that you come first. As a good mother should. You are really lucky to have her. She cares for your very deeply and she loves you so very much" he says she he swivels around facing his work with his arms resting in his desk as his hands lean against his forehead

"I see" he says as he crosses his arms in front of his chest "then I guess I owe you both an apology".

Takuro turns in his chair to see a soft smiling Kenji as a smile slowly appears on his face. 

The day seems to drag on. It's only 4pm but it feels like you've been in bed for days. You decide to get up and shower, planning to make dinner before Kenji comes home. He might not want to speak with you but you're still his mother.

You shower and walk to the kitchen to prepare dinner. You start to sniffle again as you try not to let it go into a full blown cry session. You hear the door open as you continue to cut up vegetables.

You don't hear anything as you look up to see your tall son leaning against the door frame to the kitchen with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You smile lightly as you try not to cry more. The tears seem to flow no matter how hard you try to control them.

"Mom" Kenji says in a sweet voice.

You look up smiling at him as you wipe your tears "Oh hi sweetheart how was practice?"

He frowns walking over to you as he hugs you from behind. No longer being able to control the tears you turn around hugging your son as you crying into his shoulder.

"Kenji I'm so sorry. Please forgive me! I didn't mean to ruin your life. I just got excited and-" you say as your tears continue to wet his date tech tracksuit.

"Mom stop ok" Kenji says as he pulls away placing hands on your shoulders.

"Mom I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I was a complete ass to you. I didn't even listen to your side of the story" he says as he looks at you ashamed "you've done so much for me and I ruined your happiness."

"It's ok baby I overstepped my boundaries. I'm sorry" you say as you hug him.

"Mai told me what happened with you and coach" Kenji said sweetly as he looks at your shocked face.

"M-Mai was there" you say as your eyes widen.

"Yeah and I'm glad she was. She told me what happened. She told me you told coach you couldn't see him" Kenji said looking down at you.

"It's ok Kenj. Coach was ok with it. He understood you came first" you say sweetly.

"Well Im not ok with it" Kenji says as he pulls away from you walking towards your front door. He opens the door for someone as your eyes widen.

"T-Takuro?" you say as you place your hands over your mouth.

"Hi Y/N" he says as he goes to hug you. You hug him back as you cry into this shoulder.

"Shh it's ok Y/N" he says as you break from the hug.

"Kenji?" you say questioningly to your son

"Mom I realized your happiness is more important than my reputation" he says as he looks at both you and coach.

"Kenji" you say as you start to cry yet again going to hug your son "you're really ok with this?"

"Yeah mom. I'm happy if your happy. Now go get ready. Coach is taking you out on a date or whatever" he says as he rolls his eyes and waves his hand walking go his room.

"Really" you say as you run back to Takuro and he chuckles. "Yes sweetheart" he says as he leans down the kiss you.

"God I'm never going to get use to this" Kenji says as he closes his bedroom door.

You both laugh as you deepen the kiss with the man of your affections.

*2 days later*

"Oh Ms. Futakuchi! It's so nice to see you" Obara shouts as Kenji rolls his eyes walking the complete other way as you and Takuro stroll into practice hand in hand.

"Thank you! It's nice to see you too" you smile.

"I see Mai got through to Kenji" Obara smirks as the rest of the team laughs.

"Alright time for laps" Kenji screams clapping his hands together trying to avoid the inevitable

"Wait what did Mai say?" You look at Kenji as he hides his face then to coach who starts laughing.

Mai was looking down at the floor, softly smiling.

"Well our sweet Mai laid in hard to ole Kenji. She told him he was being an ass and told him that you deserved the world" he says as he grabs your waist.

"Mai" you say as your mouth gapes and your eyes sparkle "Thank you!"

You run to hug her as she hugs you back.

"Marry this one Kenji! I like her a lot more than I like you" you snicker as you turn to leave practice.

Kenji just smiles as you walk hand in hand with Coach out of the gym.

"Whatever you say mom. Whatever you say"

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Cabin in the Woods [18+]

Jackson Neill x Female Reader

For @storiesofsvu​’s Fall Bingo! Requested by @resparza​​! 

Summary: You and Jackson take a trip to New England that goes slightly awry.

Warnings: NSFW, nipple play, fingering, praise, slow gentle sex until the end when it gets a lil rough. Fluffy fluff & the tiniest bit of angst (so Jackson can reassure you). Trans male version here

3,350 words

Jackson made a tiny mistake with the timing. He booked your leaf-peeping getaway for mid-October, when the leaves in the city were just beginning to turn.

When you arrived at your cozy Airbnb in the mountains of Vermont, you were greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of… sticks.

“Goddammit. I forgot how geography works,” Jackson griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d been in a sour mood for most of the drive up I-91 when the scenery started to look distinctly more ashen than orange halfway through Massachusetts.

“It’s like we time-traveled two weeks into the future,” you marveled at the bare tree branches rattling in a chilly breeze. Your rustic cedar-shingle cabin was surrounded by forest and at the end of a long dirt driveway. Even without the screen of leaves, you couldn’t see any neighbors.

“So much for leaf-peeping. There are no leaves.”

You picked up a bright red maple leaf from the driveway. “Found one!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and shook his head. “If I made our reservation a week earlier, the foliage would be, you know, in trees.”

“Found another!” you pointed at the colorful ground, grinning. “There’s another!” You picked each one up and tossed them at him like confetti.

“Alright!” he groaned, curling his elbow about your neck like a shepherd’s crook to wrangle you in. “I see you refuse to have a miserable time. Won’t even wallow with me for two seconds?”

“I think it’s pretty.” You turned in his arm and kissed him.

The tip of your nose was cold, but your lips were warm as he kissed you back and tried to look on the bright side. Just because things weren’t going to plan didn’t mean he had to relapse into his ingrained Catholic guilt.

***

Since the publication of his book, Meyerism: A New American Religion, Jackson Neill had been receiving threats from the eponymous cult that had him on edge. Not only was he afraid for himself—he wasn’t so macho to pretend otherwise—but he worried about you or his kids getting caught in the crossfire. The deeper he dug into the Meyerist Movement, the more he was convinced they were capable of anything.

This vacation was supposed to be a way to leave all that behind for a weekend, but stress clung to him like spiderwebs.

At least the weather was cooperative. Friday afternoon was clear and sunny—just the right temperature to sit out on the porch with a hot cup of cider. After unpacking, you settled down with Jackson on Adirondack chairs and listened to the sounds of nature as the fading sun slanted orange and red through the forest.

Pops of bright color still stood out amid the dull grey-brown landscape like flames—late trees that had waited for your arrival to change.

“You’re right: it is pretty,” Jackson conceded, your hand nested in his. Your fingertips were getting cold, so he held them to his lips and blew on them.

Tomorrow, you’d go on a nice hike with a beautiful view of the snow-capped Green Mountains. The trip wasn’t a total waste, Jackson thought. He tried to relax.

***

The next morning, you awoke to the pounding of rain on the roof and Jackson pacing downstairs in the living room. The entire cabin creaked and groaned with the force of the wind, and you quickly pulled on a sweater and wool socks before padding down the stairs.

Jackson was tapping at his phone, muttering under his breath, before finally tossing the useless device on the couch with a dry laugh. His apparent crankiness couldn’t have been that bad, though—he’d gotten up early to light about a hundred votive candles, filling the dim living room with flickering golden light. He must have been planning something romantic.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“No signal out here in God’s country,” Jackson rolled his eyes at a wooden cross decorating a door frame, which had not been visible in the listing photographs.

“Isn’t there Wi-Fi?”

Jackson stared at you with lips so thin they vanished into a fine line, and eyes that looked ready to shatter like exploding light bulbs at any moment. “Storm knocked out the power.”

Oh. That was why he lit candles.

“And our hike is canceled, unless you want to go out in that.” A freezing mix of rain and sleet rattled the window panes.

It was easy to let another person’s bad mood get you down, but you tried to stay positive. He’d been so tense lately, he needed support. You both needed this vacation to go well. “That’s OK. We can stay in and get cozy with the fireplace.”

“You would think so,” he gave a humorless chuckle, shaking your arm off to sulk into the open-plan kitchen. “The listing said breakfast was included, but the refrigerator is empty. We’ve got… toast.”

“Maybe we can drive into town? Find one of those quaint little bakeries.”

“Out into the cold,” he sighed. “And we don’t have internet to look a place up. No wonder the host thinks they can get away with starving us—I can’t even call to complain!”

The wall of positivity you’d constructed groaned and cracked, and the anxiety it held back began to stream through. You sank down onto the couch.

Oblivious, Jackson hunted through the charmingly rustic (and empty) cabinets with an increasingly frustrated frown. “This trip is a disaster.” The words stung as surely as if he called you a disaster.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” He turned. Your voice was so quiet he barely heard you say anything.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated so he would hear, lower lip trembling with the effort.

It took him three strides to cross the entire cabin, and he was on top of you, kneeling in front of the couch, stroking your face. “Hey, no, no… What are you talking about?” His green eyes were soft as the hay fields you’d passed yesterday as they searched yours.

“It was my idea to come here,” you sniffed.

“I know.” His head tilted, and frown lines creased his forehead. “I wanted this weekend to be perfect for you, and I can’t get anything right. I don’t know why you’re sorry. This is my fault.”

“But it’s my fault you’re miserable. I thought getting away from the city would be relaxing. I wanted some alone time with you. But you’re not having any fun. I just don’t want you to be upset…”

Something changed in his eyes.

“I… I’m not upset.” His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “I’m not upset at all—not at you. Maybe at myself. Fine, entirely at myself. This was your trip, and I fucked it up. I hate disappointing you.”

A hint of a smile crept back into your face. You covered his hand with your own and turned into it to kiss his palm. “Jax, you could never disappoint me. All I wanted out of this trip was to spend time with you. So long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

“You don’t look happy.” A flicker of a self-deprecating smirk. “Guess I ruined things by being a grouch, huh?”

Your face once again threatened a smile. “No…”

“Yes. I’m a big mean grouch. Come on, you can tell me off,” he grinned, leaning close to your neck and purring his words against your earlobe. “Punish me. Throw a handful of sleet down my shirt. Push me into a pile of wet leaves.”

“Nooo!” you squirmed beneath him, fighting a laugh as he invented tortures for himself and kissed them into your skin.

“Come on, I deserve it.” He pulled back, and a smile broke across his face like dawn to see how your eyes had brightened.

“Alright, alright. Maybe just a little sleet.”

“From now on”—he pressed his lips against your neck again and sucked lightly at the beat of your pulse point—“I promise”—he nibbled his way over your jaw—“to appreciate every moment of our vacation”—his lips ghosted against yours—“and make sure you feel good.”

You pulled him down onto the couch with you, falling back onto the cushions as his lips melted with yours and his tongue hunted for a moan inside your mouth. He found one, long, slow, and tortured as you tasted the raw heat of his apology.

“Mmm,” you hummed as if a chocolate truffle were melting on your tongue. “You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes,” he sighed back, lips moving against your cheek and his hips lazily grinding against your thigh.

“I have a few ideas about how you could do that…”

“So do I.”

His long fingers slid down your stomach and slipped beneath the waistband of your flannel pajama pants. You drew a sharp breath as his pads grazed the top of your slit, and he paused, looking to you with lust-blown eyes for permission to continue. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you angled your pelvis to move his fingers onto the aching bud of flesh that sent hot shivers out beneath your skin at the contact.

“Seems we’re on the same page, Dr. Neill,” you whispered, and captured his lips again.

Moaning into the kiss with a dark, gravelly rumble, Jackson let his fingers venture deeper into your folds. You weren’t drenched for him yet. Moments ago, you had been on the verge of crying, and he still had to reassure your body that it was wonderful and loved—but he was a patient man and enjoyed taking his time. Each breath and sigh was a signal he attended like a rapt student in the front row of the classroom, his own pleasure coursing through his veins as he played with your pussylips and brought out your trust and desire.

“Shirt off.”

Nodding, you peeled the hem up over your stomach, and he sat up to help you wriggle it off over your shoulders. While he was at it, he pulled off your pajama bottoms and stripped to his boxers.

“Hey, I’m cold,” you whined, pouting as goosebumps began to prickle over your naked arms.

He pulled the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and covered you both with it. “I’ll keep you warm, querida,” he purred as he lowered himself over you.

A hot flush spread over your skin. You loved when he spoke Spanish—sweetly, with the vocabulary of a 1950s telenovela, and full of diminutives the way his mother used to speak it to him as a child. A well-placed querida or cielito could send shivers up your spine. It was nothing compared to the back-arching jolt a moment later when his tongue teased your nipple.

You cried out, fingers curling sharply into his hair as if his tongue carried an electric charge, unsure if you were trying to push him off or pull him closer and make sure he never stopped. As he gently sucked and your sensitive flesh pebbled into a stiff peak beneath his circling tongue, you were leaning toward the latter. Head thrown back, you gasped out his name, begging for more.

He worshiped your chest, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful, attentive expression, but he didn’t give you more, no matter how you clawed at the back of his scalp. His tongue worked in gentle, leisurely circles, tracing one fully before moving on to give attention to the other.

Fingers delving back between your thighs, he found your clit swollen and throbbing. You let out a startled, sobbing moan as he stroked it, your back arching, clinging to his head almost painfully tight to brace against the overwhelming sensation. If he kept touching your two most sensitive areas at the same time, you were going to come fast.

“Easy…” he soothed, sensing your agitated level of arousal. “I want to make this last. Can you be good for me and wait?”

Whimpering, you nodded and loosened your tight grip.

“Yes, Dr. Neill.”

“Good girl.”

As he languidly serviced your nipples, he dragged his fingers lower, through your folds. It still made your skin prickle with wanting, but without direct contact with your clit, you wouldn’t come as fast.

When he found your entrance with the pad of a finger, it was slick enough to press inside without resistance. You let out a delicious, tortured moan as the long digit penetrated your tight walls, opening them a little at a time.

“Fuck, you’re so warm. So wet. That’s my good girl.” He lifted his face from your chest to kiss you in praise.

Your hips writhed to push the finger deeper as you kissed him back. He was hungry to reconnect with you—to go slowly and spend as much time as he could sharing pleasure with your naked body—but you were starving. You might explode if he didn’t fuck you.

He moaned softly as your wetness swallowed more of his finger. “Feels like you’re sucking it. Trying to pull me in. You must want more.”

“Yes… please,” you whined, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders.

A second finger stretched your entrance, and he began slowly fucking you with both.

“Oh, fuck. More! Harder,” you moaned.

“You sound so desperate,” he observed casually. “Like one of my students trying to cram for a test.” Heavy-lidded bedroom eyes betrayed his desire, but he wore a cheeky grin and did not increase his pace.

Wet sounds of flesh filled the cabin, so slow it was torture. “Please, Jackson… please let me come. Please…” you begged, but he just kept watching you studiously, worshipfully, as he fingered you slowly. Enough to keep you begging, but not enough to let you finish.

He was straddling one of your legs, and his cock pressed rock-hard into your thigh. Every so often, you would feel it twitch, usually when his fingers massaged a sensitive spot inside that made you give a satisfying noise, and he could feel your pussy gripping around him. Then he would murmur, “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Only when you were a drooling, trembling mess that could barely string two intelligible words together did he start to actively roll his hips, rubbing his erection against your leg.

“Do you want more?”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed.

He sat back on his haunches, and you wailed as his fingers slipped from your yearning wetness, leaving you so empty. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked softly, so tenderly that “fuck” sounded like the most romantic, poetic word in the English language.

“I love you,” you replied, which wasn’t technically a yes, but made Jackson’s breath catch suddenly in his throat.

“I love you, too, mi corazón.” He tugged the elastic waistband of his boxers down over his straining cock, and, taking it in his hand, notched its thick head against your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he demanded huskily, “Now tell me you want me inside you.”

You gasped. He was so big and blunt against your tight pussy, you almost didn’t think he could fit. But you knew he could—and you knew that was why he always warmed you up so gradually, so agonizingly, so he would never hurt you. With the crown of his cock stretching your opening, the temptation of being filled by him was so close that an unbearable ache drowned out every other thought.

“I want you, Jackson. I need you.”

A thrill rushed through you as his walls came crashing down. His hips canted forward, and a pleasurable burn filled your depths as his cock stretched you open farther than seemed possible—and you watched his mind empty in that moment. All the stress and worry were gone. Nothing was on his mind but you and how good you felt wrapped around him. Nothing existed for you but him between your legs and the ragged sound of his breathing.

As if to seamlessly replace his fingers with his cock, he set the same languid pace. At first, the difference in girth was enough to make it infinitely more intense. Relief cascaded through you as your pleasure finally began to build toward a finale, heat pooling in your lower body with every thrust. Dipping his head, Jackson found a hardened nipple and sucked it until you were babbling incoherently, hips jerking to add to the depth and friction he was giving you.

“H-harder,” you whispered, and this time, he didn’t tease you.

Your pussy coated his cock with so much cream, he knew you could take all of him. Knew you were ready to snap, and so was he—so his hips pounded faster, thighs slapping your skin, heavy balls swinging against your ass.

“Yes… yes… yes…” he breathed rhythmically, chasing his climax as your arousal coated his cock and slicked your thighs.

“More,” you rasped, though your fingernails were already digging red crescents into his back, the stretch almost too much. He needed a stress release, and you wanted to be his outlet. “Let yourself go.”

A final barrier broke inside him, and he took you so quickly, it was more like jerking himself off with your body than making love. Nothing went through his mind but seeking his own release. For a moment, Even you vanished, and there was nothing but his cock surrounded and gripped by unbelievable warmth. You cried out in pleasure at the new depths he struck with reckless abandon.

His hips stuttered. “Fuck!” he gasped, fingers gripping the couch cushion as his hot seed painted your inner walls.

He panted, going still. After a few moments of catching his breath, cock twitching the remainder of its contents into you, he wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow and opened his eyes.

“You didn’t come, did you?” He gave a sheepish sigh.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes me too long… It was fun anyway.”

“Stop that. Whoever gave you those excuses is a fucking idiot.”

Keeping himself sheathed inside you, he reached between your bodies to stroke your clit. You gasped out, finding your body responded quickly with waves of molten heat exploding between your thighs. You were still close to finishing.

Jackson circled his hips, using his spent, tender cock while it was still hard. Though each movement was overstimulating and made his body cry out to stop, he savored the way you responded to the pressure: your eyes squeezing closed, your breath growing shallow. He lowered his mouth to your chest again, stroking your clit faster as he flicked his tongue and rocked his hips in shallow thrusts. Your moans built, louder and more strained, back arching beneath him until finally, you came, walls crashing around him, convulsing and releasing, then clenching down again as your whole body shuddered with wave after wave of ecstasy.

Jackson’s mouth popped off the bud of your nipple as a pained moan tore from his throat. His exhausted cock suffered as your pussy involuntarily tried to milk another orgasm from it, but there was a smile on his lips. A breathy laugh.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You lay together for a while under the blanket. Even after you’d recovered, your shared body heat was incentive enough not to want to get up yet. The storm outside didn’t relent, and despite the warm light of a hundred flickering candles, the air inside the cabin was chilly. Soon, you would start up the fire in the rustic stone hearth, and you could stay cozy inside all day roasting marshmallows and reading books or playing board games. After a brief trip into town for supplies, that is. Besides, you would have to brave the storm to make good on your promise to slip some ice down his shirt.

For now, Jackson’s face was buried contentedly in the curve of your neck, hot puffs of breath tickling your skin. You held him in your arms, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So,” you murmured. “Enjoying our vacation yet?”

You felt him smile. “It’s everything I needed.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @isvvc-pvscvl  / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq / @madpanda75 / @alwaysachorusgirl / @bananas-pajamas / @leanor-min / @mad-girl-without-a-box​ / @katierpblogg​ / @worldofvixen​ / @sassyada​ / @detectivebarba​

[chocoholicannanymous]

Gonna Come True (Glee)

AN: This is a follow-up to There's a Miracle Due which was written for the Glee Twistfest, “What if Mercedes & Kurt got Maria & Tony?” back in 2014 (yikes). I had the storyline for this already back then (hello, all of three lines in a document), it's just taken me until now to actually write it. 

For @krummavisur who wanted it.

Thanks to @elledelajoie for looking it over .

The title is taken from “Something Coming”, West Side Story.

Oh, and I am not trying to follow any kind of canon time-line. Just, go with it.

Gonna Come True

Kurt throws himself into preparing for West Side Story with an energy that makes Mercedes envious. She understands though – he doesn't feel like he got the role honestly, which is bullshit, but. He still thinks he needs to prove himself. In her eyes he did so during his audition, and it's everyone else who needs to prove themselves to him, but he doesn't see it that way. Years of Lima bullshit stops him from seeing it.

He doesn't drop out of the race for senior class president though, not even when he's complaining about balancing that with Tony and school and Blaine. She asks him why and gets an answer she should have expected.

“At first this was about getting at least something on my resume. But that's not it any longer. I'm running as a reminder that bullying is a problem at this school, and that something needs to be done. If I win – and I don't expect to, not here – then I have a shot at making the administration do something. If I lose I still raise awareness. Every time I speak about my agenda I force the people listening to remember that bullying is an issue, that bullying kills, and that it is not okay.

“That's worth losing a little sleep.”

Mercedes's heart swells at hearing her boo speak so passionately about it, and it breaks as she hears an angry Santana tell Brittany that she should run against Kurt.

Kurt who is currently pulling down unicorn posters around the school while pushing back tears.

She waits until Brittany walks away before cornering Santana.

“We need to talk. What you just told Brit? That's a shit thing to do.”

Santana starts to argue, all fire, and under other circumstances Mercedes would admire her willingness to go to bat for her girl, but not now.

“No. Don't you dare. Do you know why Kurt is so upset over those posters? It's because to him they represent everything that he's been bullied over. And that? Has a lot to do with you. You have been sitting in the choir room for two years, mocking him for what he likes and for who he is.

“So here we are. Him running on an anti-bullying platform, and your girlfriend plastering the school with posters reminding him of exactly that bullying. Do I really need to explain to you why it is that when Kurt looks at those posters he doesn't see Brit's intentions, her meaning – he sees your bullying.”

Mercedes sees her words are hitting home, even if Santana is putting up a good front.

“Oh, and Santana? When you mock Kurt for being gay it makes you a hypocrite. But when you mock him for being 'girly'? It's even worse. Because when you say that there's something wrong with being like a girl, you're implying that there's something wrong with being a girl. And I'm not okay with that.

“Now, you are going to go back to Brit and tell her exactly what happened here, and you're going to make sure that she forgets all about running against him. He's had enough of his so-called friends doing that, I'd think.

“I'm not saying this – any of this – to be mean. I'm trying to be a good friend, to Kurt and to you. But make no mistake. You ruin this for Kurt? I'll ruin you.”

Mercedes might not be popular like a cheerleader, but she's got friends and she's got contacts outside of school. Her threat's not an empty one, and Santana knows it.

Her phone's ringing. There's something hitting her window, and her phone's ringing. At half past eleven on a school night.

Whoever it is, Mercedes is going to cut them.

Except it's Kurt, and he's not looking right.

As she lets him in through the back-door Mercedes notices the wrinkled clothes and the mussed hair that doesn't fit with a night of dancing. More making out, but Kurt doesn't have that well-kissed look. Plus, he's pale and shaky.

Something's wrong.

It takes her a long time to coax the story out of him, about Blaine trying to rape him. Except when she says that Kurt denies it, vehemently.

“Are you serious right now? Are you defending him? No! Okay? No. Hell no even.

“Look, if I showed up at your place and told you Shane had pulled me into the backseat of a car, had tried to get my clothes off and wouldn't stop touching me even though I said no, what would you tell me? Would you tell me it was okay because we're dating? That he's allowed to do that because I'm in love with him and he treats me good the rest of the time? Would you tell me to suck it up and forgive him?

“Would you explain away that and tell me that if he won't respect my 'no' the solution is to say 'yes' instead?”

Kurt's even paler now, his eyes blown and unfocused. He doesn't say anything though. Instead he just whimpers and rushes out to the bathroom.

When he comes back he's regained some color. He still looks like shit though. Mercedes pulls out some comfortable clothes that were bought for her brother, but got conscripted as backup for unplanned Kurt-visits, and leaves him to change while she gets them some chamomile tea.

Later, as the lights are out and they're curled up together, trying to get what rest they can Kurt whispers: “I'm going to have to break up with him, aren't I?”

She holds him as he cries himself to sleep.

The next day Kurt pretends like nothing's happened. He doesn't want to rock the boat before the West Side Story premiere, he says, or deal with the bitchfit Rachel would throw. “I'll do it after the final performance on Sunday” he promises, and Mercedes doesn't have it in her to push him. Not with the memory of his tears so fresh.

Dress rehearsal that night goes well, right up to the point where Artie comes to talk to them after. They need more fire, more passion, he claims and then proceeds to tell them that they should hurry up and have sex before their first show so they can portray lovers more believably. Oh, he doesn't put it quite like that, but it's pretty obvious that's what he means.

Mercedes is stunned at first, and then furious. She's surprised that Kurt's not ripping into him, with everything, and oh. Hell no.

“Are you telling me to have sex to improve the show you're directing? Really? How about you get some classes or something, to improve your part? You know, instead of sexually harassing me.”

Artie sputters out what's probably meant as a denial, but she just talks right over him.

“If you as much as breathe about this again, to anyone, I will report you. And then my mama will go have a talk with your parents about how they've failed at raising you to be a decent human being.

“Do you get me?”

He nods quickly, mumbles something and makes a hasty retreat. Just as he goes out the door Kurt's voice rings out, cold.

“And to think I remember a boy who grieved that his first time wasn't romantic enough. I wonder what he would think of you now.”

Artie doesn't say anything, or slow down, but he slumps a little in his chair as the barb hits home. Mercedes shifts her attention to Kurt and sees pale skin, rigid posture and shaky hands. He's thinking the same thing she is.

“Boo...”

“No, 'Cedes, please. Let's not speculate about whether or not he had that speech with the others first. I can't, not now.”

So she lets it go. For now.

Mercedes is on stage for the opening show Friday night along with Kurt. Not in the spotlight, sure, but still there. She can't help but compare Rachel and Blaine's performance with what she and Kurt can do, and they come up short. Tomorrow night, she thinks. Tomorrow night we're going to show them how it's really done.

She says as much to Kurt as they leave together and he laughs, the first sign of happiness she's heard from him in two days. The laughter dies out soon as he spots a bunch of well-dressed boys waiting outside. She recognizes a few from Kurt's time at Dalton, but not all of them. She'd think it nice of them to come see their friends perform, except judging from Kurt's reaction they're not an entirely welcome sight.

He still greets them politely, smiling that small “company smile” she doesn't like while asking if they remember Mercedes.

“And this,” he says with strained, icy politeness, “is Sebastian Smythe, this year's new transfer to Dalton.”

This then is the reason they're not welcome. Still, she follows Kurt's example and pulls out church manners.

Apparently the boys have been given tickets by Blaine, the tall new boy explains, before trying to needle Kurt.

“So, Officer Krupke? How did that feel, such a...manly role?”

Ouch.

“Oh, you know, it's not about the role, it's what you put into it. And it makes for an interesting contrast to tomorrow and playing Tony. ”

Everyone quiets at that and the mood gets slightly uncomfortable. Trent is about to break the silence, but Sebastian talks right over him.

“Right. Well, we'll have to withhold judgment until after of course, but I'd say you'll have a hard time measuring up to Blaine. And you,” he turns to Mercedes, “are you also playing another role tomorrow? This one's Maria perhaps?”

She nods without explaining, and then listens as the boys stumble over excuses about not knowing exactly who'll be there tomorrow, but “We're sure you'll do great, Kurt!”

Once they're out of sight Kurt sags a little.

“He didn't tell them. He went to Dalton to tell them about the show, and give them tickets, and he didn't tell them I was in it. Didn't tell them I was also playing Tony. They tried to cover it up, but... They were my friends too, and he didn't tell them.”

She loops an arm around his waist and snuggles close.

He deserves so much better.

There's a group of Dalton boys there next evening again, making Kurt smile and Blaine startle. Some are from the evening before, including the sharp Sebastian, some are new. They all applaud enthusiastically, and wait so they can congratulate Kurt on his performance. Mercedes pays extra attention to Sebastian, for some reason, but all he says is “not bad”. It sounds genuine though, and so is Kurt's smile as he nods and thanks the other boy.

Mercedes knows they did better than “not bad”. They were awesome together. She doesn't need to hear it from this reluctant boy though. She's got a better source.

They skip the cast party. Kurt's not eager to be with Blaine, especially since there might be alcohol involved, and Mercedes prefers celebrating with her boyfriend who has been a rock. There's a small sting as Kurt walks away alone, but it slips away as she accepts Shane's flowers and kiss and walks out on his arm.

The next morning Mercedes shows up at the Hummel-Hudson house almost uncomfortably early. She drags a still sleep-tussled Kurt to the dining table and spreads out the Gazette in front of him. It's already open to the right page and she sees exactly when Kurt realizes what she's got.

“You read that, I'll fix breakfast.”

She's brought coffee from home along with juice and fresh croissants from the bakery a block away and a small carton of strawberries. It's a luxury, but it's a well-deserved one. It's the work of no time to put it all out along with cups and plates, and as she does that she hears Kurt's voice rise, reading select paragraphs out loud.

“Rachel Berry's 'Maria' is technically perfect, with the singer hitting every note. Sadly that excellence does not extend to the rest of her performance. Ms Berry fails to provide personality and emotion, and simply put she lacks the ability to bring Maria to life.”

He stops, shakes his head and looks at her.

“Ehm, ouch?”

Yes.

“Blaine Anderson as Tony does not help. Where a better singer and actor could shore up his counterpart Anderson falls flat. 'Flat' is in fact the word that comes to mind most often when seeing and listening to him performing. Anderson fails to hit the notes in several of the songs, and often resorts to what must be described as screaming instead of singing. He lacks the range needed to play Tony, and obviously also the training needed to make up for his shortcomings.

“On the acting side it's equally flat. Anderson's body language and facial expressions are mostly too subtle – or possibly non-existent – to come across from the stage, making it like watching a cardboard cut-out most of the time. On the other hand, when he does come across it's much too exaggerated, making his Tony look like a caricature. (I find myself looking at the playbill to see if this is meant to be a comedic take on this epic show. It's not.)

“Holy shit, 'Cedes!”

Yessssss.

“Finally, the dancing. Here, Anderson does better – most of the time. He clearly favors certain parts of the choreography, and there he does very well. In other parts it is obvious that Anderson lacks either the desire or the ability to perform according to choreography. This shows, as other cast members – including Ms Berry's Maria – often have to adjust their own moves to accommodate Anderson, either because he takes up too much space or because he simply isn't where he is supposed to be.

“Towards the end of the show Anderson also shows a surprising lack of stamina, and almost literally falls flat as he stumbles through some of the steps.

“The rest of the cast...”

Kurt's voice peters off, and he looks at her, stunned. Mercedes only smiles, satisfied.

“You should read on. Really.”

Kurt looks at her with skepticism, but does as she says. She knows exactly when he hits the part she wanted him to see, because he looks up at her, wide-eyed and slightly stunned.

“After this the pair playing Maria and Tony during Saturday's performance – as well as today's matinée – is a pleasant surprise. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel bring our lovers to life in a way that looks more like a professional setup than a high school play. Not only are they both talented singers, but they also manage to communicate the story to the audience and play off each other in a way that lifts the entire show.

“It is noticeable, having seen both sets of performers that like Anderson Jones has some difficulty with the choreography. However the adjustments made to cater to her limitations in no way come off as a lesser version of what Berry performs, and does in fact make her look better than Anderson's attempt at a more complex choreography. Meanwhile Hummel needs no such adjustments and manages to pair vocals with dancing in a truly impressive manner.

“Hummel's vocals could take up an article of its own, and so this reporter will just note that it comes as no surprise that Hummel is pursuing schooling and later a career in performing arts. We are looking forward to seeing him on stage on many more occasions.”

Kurt drops the paper and blinks like an owl.

“Am I dreaming? Did an actual reporter not only attend a West Side Story performance at McKinley to write about it in the Gazette, but they actually went twice?”

“Yeah boo.”

“And they actually wrote that we did better than Rachel and Blaine?”

“Yeah, they did. And they were right, you know. You did so much better than Blaine that he should be embarrassed.”

Kurt blushes a little, then pulls a grimace.

“What?”

“I was just thinking... I've been wondering if breaking up with Blaine over what happened was an overreaction, because...” He meets her eye, and looks away. “Anyway, I'm reading this and instead of being happy for me – for us – I can't help but think that Blaine's going to go ballistic. And that waiting for the show to be over probably wasn't that great of an idea. He's going to expect me to listen to him whine about this.”

Mercedes isn't surprised to hear that Kurt's been considering forgiving his boyfriend. A bit disappointed, sure, but not surprised. He always was more loyal than people deserved. She is surprised that he's being that clear-sighted about Blaine though. That's good. That means he's probably going to follow through.

As if cued Kurt's phone starts buzzing and they both look at the screen. Blaine. Mercedes makes an unhappy face. Kurt... Kurt looks upset and rejects the call before turning the sound off.

“Boo?”

“I am not going to ruin my afterglow by listening to him complain about how no one appreciates him. Not when I'm already going to break up with him. Just, no.

“Instead I'm going to enjoy this lovely breakfast with my gorgeous leading lady, and then I'm going to read that article again and gloat. Oh, and then I'm going out to get myself a couple of extra copies as proof that even in Lima people can see our talent.

“I don't know how you did it, but you, my dear, pulled off a miracle.”

And she has, hasn't she? Not by making someone see and recognize Kurt's talent, though, but by making him smile, wide and open.

That's her miracle, right there.

~ The End ~

[kitkat1003]

When the Tide pulls away and the Earth Sharpens to Steel

Chapter 2: But He Burns All the Same

HUGE Warning for this chapter -Temporary Suicide -Graphic Depictions of Violence -Blood and Gore Nothing too crazy imo, but still enough cause for an alarm I imagine.  Just want y'all to know what you're getting into. Enjoy!

AO3 Link

In the end, very little changes.  Tang still continues through the days, as winter turns to spring turns to summer turns to fall.  Almost lazily, Bajie and him fall into a routine just a little different, where they no longer have to dance around their feelings.  Lingering touches can mean something, can lead to something.  Tang can blush and get teased and not be terrified of being found out, of ruining anything.

The days are very much a routine.  He goes out to meditate, and comes back to help Bajie cook.  He’s not actually much help, considering that of the two, Bajie has far more experience in cooking, but he certainly does try.

Bajie seems to enjoy teaching Tang, regardless of Tang’s missteps.  Tang thinks Bajie likes feeling like the smart one for once.  Likes seeing Tang fumble around awkwardly.

Bastard.

The other monks notice Tang’s chipper mood, but no one was ever that interested in anything Tang has done or been, unless it’s to admonish his misconduct.  So, they leave well enough alone.

All save for one.

Tang is coming back from meditation to see what wonderful concoction Bajie is cooking up for dinner when a hand grabs him by the shoulder.  He whips around, startled, and comes face to face with

“Bao,” he grinds out.  “Have you taken up stalking?”

“You’ve been a ghost in the monastery for months,” Bao argues.  “I just wanted to see what you were up to.” 

He steps around Tang and towards the doorway.  “Collecting occult objects?  Sneaking in meat?”

Tang runs so that he’s back in front of Bao, trying to stop the monk’s advance.  His face is bright red, a mix of rage and embarrassment.  If Bao finds out about Bajie-well, the whole monastery will.  The one thing that brings Tang joy will be thrown into scrutiny, until he can’t enjoy it anymore.

“I wanted some privacy.” It’s not exactly a lie.  “And besides, no one liked living near me anyway!  Shouldn’t you be happy I’ve found a space far away from the rest of you?”

“Why hide it then?” Bao argues, smiling when Tang cringes away from him.  “Clearly, you’re doing something you know is wrong.”

“That-that isn’t-why won’t you leave it?” Tang clenches his fists, voice quieting as he speaks, as if the thoughts turn everything to a hiss.  “If you know I’m doing bad things, then why do you care?  Everyone already thinks I’m a bad person!  What, you just want to satisfy your curiosity?”

His voice has more hurt in it than anger, because he’s spent his entire life knowing his life’s features were segmented into categories. There was the place he lived, the people who lived there, and him.  He could never be part of that whole.  He’s the outlier, always has been, and he’s learned to live with that.

It still hurt, when he thought about it.

But Bao was a reminder.  Bao pushed.  Tang could take the neglect, the snide looks, but Bao would talk.  Would intrude into the space Tang carved out for himself and himself alone, and prod at Tang’s sore spots until he snapped.  And Tang was so tired of that, nowadays, because he finally had someone that made him believe he might not deserve it.

A shadow falls over them and anything Bao was going to say doesn’t come out, silencing into a squeak.  Tang watches Bao’s gaze rise up, up, up, before locking onto something.

Bao’s eyes quickly fill with fear.

A very familiar hand rests on Tang’s shoulder, though Tang is surprised to feel Bajie’s grip tighten.  The claws dig just a little into the fabric of his shirt, though Bajie’s grip is always careful not to damage Tang or his clothing.

A growl comes from Bajie’s throat, too.  When Tang looks up, he’s surprised to see Bajie’s eyes glowing, his teeth bared.

“Tang is my mortal.” Bajie’s voice is cold.  Rage is painted in his posture, as he leans down so he’s eye level with Bao.  He huffs a breath through his nose, one that ruffles Bao’s hair.  “Mine.”

Bao flinches.

“You stay away, or I’ll find you.  You say a word about this, and I’ll find you.  Got it?” Bajie pokes a claw into Bao’s chest every time to punctuate each ‘You,’ eyes narrowed to dark slits.Bao nods, very quickly.  His head is a blur.

Bajie leans in even closer, so that his snout is touching Bao’s nose.

“Now, start fucking running.”

Bao stumbles back, trembling.  He turns on his heel and sprints down the hall, disappearing behind the corner.

Tang blinks and looks up at Bajie.  Bajie continues to stay in a battle stance, free hand splayed out with claws bared, fingers twitching.  Likely for his rake, Tang surmises.

“Bajie,” Tang reaches up and places a palm flat against the side of Bajie’s face, gentle.  As much as it is charming to have a strong demon as his protector, Tang much prefers his Bajie when he’s off the battlefield.  Bajie responds best to touch, regardless.  Sometimes words don’t reach him. 

 “Dinner will run late if we stand out here all night.”

Bajie blinks a few times and shakes himself off, lifting his hand from Tang’s shoulder carefully.  His shoulders slump down as he relaxes, a little weary after being so tense.  He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and smiles, a little strained.

“Right.  Uh, sorry.”

He ducks beneath the doorframe and heads back into their room.  Tang follows.

They make dinner in relative silence.  Tang has gotten rather proficient with a knife, and he chops up the vegetables as Bajie sets up the broth.  Bajie’s started making the noodles himself.  Apparently it’s far cheaper if you do, even if it takes longer to complete.

When they’re done, and when Bajie pours out their servings so they can eat, Tang speaks up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.  “I could have handled it.”

Bajie sets his bowl down with a heavy sigh, hands clenched into fists in his lap.

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” Bajie says slowly.  “No one should.”

“Bajie,” Tang starts, a sad smile of acceptance already on his face.  “Plenty of people here are like that.  I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” Bajie explodes.  “You shouldn’t have to deal with all that, it’s none of any of their business what you do!  People shouldn’t expect the worst from you!”

Bajie stares down at him with a plea in his gaze, like he’s begging for Tang to understand, but Tang looks away.  Something about what Bajie is saying, some part of Bajie’s expression, makes his chest twist something painful.  Maybe Tang has always known, deep down, that being treated the way he is is wrong, maybe he just buried that part down so it wouldn’t hurt so much.  The earnest look in Bajie’s expression, the desperation-that digs that part back up, and Tang struggles to bury it again.

“It doesn’t matter.  People think what they will of me.  I just don’t want their opinion to be any worse,” he sighs.  “I can handle what they throw at me.  I can prove that I’m better than they are.”

Bajie’s reaches over, tilting Tang’s head up and forcing Tang to look at him again.

“You don’t have to hold yourself to such a high standard, you know.  You’re allowed to be angry.  I get mad enough, and you never tell me not to be.  Why can’t you get upset?  Why do you gotta handle it all?”

Tang blinks, and his vision blurs.  When had anyone, before now, told him that he was enough?  Just as is, without need for a perfect posture, unbreakable composure.  When he was young there were times where he could almost say he was liked, but soon the other children pulled away and Tang was forced to climb his way up to somehow reach their level again.

But here Bajie is, on the same level as him, telling him the view is just fine right here.

Bajie pulls him forward, and Tang holds Bajie as tight as he can, hiding his tears in Bajie’s chest.

When he finally lifts his head up, Bajie is smiling down at him.

“See?  Nothing wrong with gettin’ upset.  Better to go through it and come out better for it than to let it sit and grow.”

“You’re just saying that because you liked going ‘protective demon’ on Bao,” Tang mutters, grinning despite himself.

“Hey—well, maybe, but that’s not the point!”

Tang presses his face into Bajie’s chest to muffle his chuckles.  Soon enough, Bajie is laughing too.

At night, when they lay together, Bajie likes to pull Tang close.  Tang will pepper Bajie’s jaw with kisses and lean his head against the demon’s chest, listening to the rumbling purr of delight Bajie is unable to stifle, along with Bajie’s heartbeat.

Being in love is something Tang finds unexpectedly warm and comfortable.  Like slipping into a slipper fitted perfectly, he stands taller and walks with far better purpose than he had before.  Even the whispers of how he isn’t a proper monk do little to stifle the swell of elation sitting in his heart, each breath making his ribs creak with strain, as if his heart couldn’t fit it all.

It’s a good type of pain, to be in love.

One night, though, Bajie presses Tang so tightly against him that Tang startles.  He’s about to ask when his lips are stolen in a kiss, and, well, he doesn’t mind that at all.  He leans into the heat, making his cheeks blush.

But a hand creeps up his thigh, beneath his clothes.

Tang is suddenly consumed by panic.

He pushes away, quickly, wide eyed and trembling.  Glancing at Bajie’s eyes show no anger, more confusion and hurt.  They’re both breathless, but Tang has to take an extra minute to get his lungs to cooperate, to be able to breathe at all.

He knew this would happen.  This was the whole point of the challenge, was it not?  He just...he hadn’t thought of it, between the shock of Bajie actually loving him and the fluttery feelings he had for the demon as well.

“I-I’m sorry,” he sputters, embarrassed.  Ashamed, even.  

He’d known that women were expected to perform for their husbands, and while Tang wouldn’t call himself a wife, he knew that there was always the expectation to perform if he began this sort of relationship.  To be unable to...it’s shameful.

Bajie looks very much like he wants to reach for him, but he keeps his hands pressed against his chest, away from Tang.  Worried.  Nervous.

“I-it’s okay.  I’m not-I want you to be comfortable.  Did I do something wrong?” Bajie assures.  Soothing.  The lack of anger makes Tang relax a little. 

“No-no, you didn’t, I just…,” Tang doesn’t know how to explain.  “I-do we have to?”

Bajie blinks a few times, confused, and he rubs the top of his head in thought, looking around before his gaze settles back on Tang.

“I thought…,” Bajie starts, haltingly.  So very careful.  “I thought that this is what mortals do.  Anyone does.  You know?  Is this about the monk thing?”

“No,” Tang replies again, firm.  “It’s hard to explain, I just…,” He takes a breath.  Shuffles a little closer.  

Bajie’s hand settles on the bedroll.  Tang places his own on top of it, like an olive branch.  He feels Bajie relax, a little.

“What do you like about me?” Tang asks. 

Bajie tilts his head to the side, at the question.  It’s an odd one, but Tang has heard time and time again that consummation equals the truest love.  And yet, if that were true, why love any other part of your partner?  Why think of anything besides this moment?

Tang has a plethora of things he loves about Bajie.  He hopes that Bajie is the same.

“I mean it literally,” Tang clarifies.  “Why are you in love with me?”

Bajie shifts, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.  His hand does not move from where it is, in Tang’s, so he rubs a circle into the back of it with his index finger.  He turns it into a spiral.  Bajie’s hand is big enough for it, after all.

Bajie’s voice starts soft. “I like the way your hair looks.  It’s windswept, almost.

“I like how your face looks.  It’s very soft, and comes to a nice point, you know?  I like your eyes, because they’re a brown red I haven’t seen before, and I like your smile, because it’s kind of cheeky but mostly just kind, and I like that look you get on your face when you read, or when I make you something to eat, and I like that your hands are soft, and—”

Bajie stops, for a moment.  His eyes are wide, face  flushed, like the more he talked, the more affection burned him.

Tang thinks he’s nearly a cherry tomato himself, with how much he can feel his face steaming.

Bajie shifts to face him again.

“I love that you can talk to me about things like this.,” Something warmer enters Bajie’s voice, right then.  “Most people either tell me to go or don’t tell me anything.  You stand your ground, but you don’t just shove me away.  You tell me why the things I do upset you, so I can fix it.  Most people are too scared to bother.”

“I am scared of you, sometimes,” Tang whispers.  He’d kept that fact a secret, afraid of the look it would put on Bajie’s face, to know that Tang, even with all his love, fears Bajie even a little.

“But you still try and stop me if I push too far.  That’s trust.  That’s bravery,” Bajie rebuffs, steadfast even with the hard truth laying between them.  “I love that about you.  You’re brave.  You trust me.”

The way he says that takes Tang’s breath away.  It takes Tang a few moments to even collect himself, and when he does he still feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle.

“Right,” he starts, and Bajie chuckles before he continues.  “And what does that, any of that, have to do with,” He gestures vaguely to the whole concept they’re avoiding.  “Sex?”

Bajie opens his mouth, and then closes it.  Tang watches the thoughts bounce around Bajie’s brain with a fond smile, until Bajie finally looks back at him.

“I guess it doesn’t,” Bajie mutters, and then laughs, incredulous.  “You’re so smart, you know that?  Sometimes I wonder if you’re wasted, here.” 

He reaches over and brushes a hair back behind Tang’s ear.  Tang chuckles, both at the sentiment and at the motion. Perhaps laughing will help the butterflies out of his stomach.

“This place is my home,” he says, and he shrugs.  “I belong here.”

Bajie’s smile flattens into a straight line for a moment, but he doesn’t argue.  Silence falls upon them, as Tang’s fingers trace shapes into Bajie’s hand and arm, until Bajie speaks up again.

“I uh-I thought for a second it might be because of, uh, this,” Bajie gestures vaguely at his person, and Tang raises a brow.

“You just gestured to all of yourself,” He says.

Bajie flushes, embarrassed, before huffing out, “The biggest hurdle most mortals have to get over is that I’m not exactly conventionally attractive, by mortal standards.” 

Bajie doesn’t look him in the eye.  It’s said matter of factly, and there’s an undercurrent of hurt that has Tang’s brow furrowing.  Tang doesn’t know about the partners Bajie’s had before, but he does know Bajie has been chased out of many towns.  He wonders how much of it was because of Bajie’s attitude and how much of it was his appearance.

“That’s true.  You’re not,” Tang replies bluntly.

Bajie seems surprised, before Tang continues.

“You’re not mortal.  You’re not human.  It would be ridiculous to use those standards to classify you as attractive or not.  By my standards….”

He trails off for a moment, and when he continues, his smile is coy.  “Well, you’re quite outstanding.”

“Tang,” Bajie starts, and it comes out choked out, the blush moving from embarrassment back to attraction.

Tang scoots closer, and reaches up to Bajie’s face.

“You have lovely ears.  Perfect for hearing anyone who would dare attack you.  They blush like your cheeks, did you know?  I always love that about them.  Gorgeous blue eyes.  Two different shades, even.  Most mortals are stuck with one, but I suppose this was a treat from the gods for me,” Tang fiddles with the ears for a moment, before his hands trail down. 

Bajie doesn’t seem to know how to handle this much affection.  His eyes are locked on Tang’s, and his lips are slightly parted in shock.

“You have such strong tusks.  Very imposing,” Tang wraps his fingers around them, grips them for a moment.  “Perfect for biting through most anything.  A strong jaw.” 

He trails the shape of it with his finger.  “To show you mean business.  Powerful vocal cords.”

Tang smooths a hand down Bajie’s neck.  Bajie shivers.  “To shout at anyone who would challenge you.  Broad shoulders so that you loom.   Sharp claws to cut through any obstacle.  Strong arms to lift that rake of yours.”

“Burly legs so you can move faster than any mortal would dare, and,” Tang has to laugh. “An adorable tail that you can’t stop from wagging when you’re happy.”

Bajie just stares, as if no one has ever said something like that to him in all his years of life.  The tragic thing, to Tang, is that it’s likely that that’s the case.  He pulls himself up, so that he and Bajie are eye to eye.

“I almost forgot your lovely snout,” he leans forward and places a kiss there.  “Perfect for kisses.  All of it makes you the most beautiful demon I’ve ever seen.  My Demon.  My Bajie.  My Pigsy.”

Each phrase is punctuated by another peck.  The last title snaps Bajie out of his haze, and he grins, lopsided and gorgeous.

“Pigsy?” he asks.

Tang flushes a little.  “Do you not like it?” 

Bajie lifts Tang up and shifts so he’s on his back, placing Tang on top of him.

“I love it,” he murmurs.

Tang smiles and curls on top of Bajie like he’s always belonged there.

They lay there for a moment, until Bajie opens his mouth.

“Did I still win the challenge?”

Tang laughs so hard  he cries, tickled by the memory of a conversation what feels like a lifetime ago finally coming to its close, leaning down until his forehead is resting against Pigsy’s.

“Of course you did.  You got me, didn’t you?”

They have arguments.  Disagreements, really.  Arguments imply real hatred and they never have that, not for each other, but they do disagree.

Bajie wants Tang to come with him, to leave the monastery and go out into the world.  But Tang can’t.  Not when everyone here already expects him to fail, to be the worst of them, to fall away from the religion and be the lesser monk they think him to be.  What would they say, if he disappeared into the night, never to be seen again?

“I don’t understand why that matters,” Bajie stresses, during one such disagreement.  “You know they’re never gonna be satisfied.  And what about when they find out about me, huh?  How are you gonna swing that?”

“I know!” Tang cries, head in his hands from the frustration.  “I know, I know that, but what can I do, Bajie?  I can’t just leave, they’re my family, this is my home.  What don’t you understand?”

Family is difficult to handle, and Tang knows his isn’t perfect, isn’t terribly kind, but it’s his.  It’s so hard to imagine disappearing.  Could he even come back?  Obviously not, they already dislike him, so there’s no way he could leave.  How could he keep in contact?  The mail moves so slow, and how would they write him back when he’s moving around so much?  Would they even write to him?

Bajie doesn’t get it.  Bajie doesn’t have a family like Tang does.  Hecan just salt the earth and leave and lose nothing.  Tang could lose everything.  He needs his foundation.  He needs something to go back to.

“Tang,” Bajie starts, soft and gentle, but unrelenting.

Tang raises a hand to silence him.

“Stop asking,” He says firmly.

His voice takes on a more desperate edge as he adds a quieter “Please.”

He needs to figure this out for himself, and if he’s constantly being pressured one way over the other, how can he make an informed decision?  He just needs a little more time.

Bajie’s brow furrows, eyes going dark for a split second before his expression empties, like everything has been poured out of him.  Tang stiffens, because the lack of reaction is frightening, somehow, like he’s been pushed to the edge of a cliff, and isn’t sure how long the precipice can hold him.

But then Bajie leans down, and presses a kiss to his forehead, soft.

“Alright,” Bajie whispers.  “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” Tang whispers, promises, hopes.

Bajie starts leaving.  At first, it’s only for a few days.  Then, the trips become longer.  A week.  Two.  

He’s never gone longer than a month, and he always tells Tang the night before that he’ll be gone in the morning.  Tang will wake up to the feeling of a soft kiss to his forehead and he will watch Bajie trudge out of their room as sunlight peeks over the horizon.

Tang hates every second that Bajie is gone.  Hates that the monotony of his normal life is no longer satisfactory.  He had forced himself to be satisfied with the mundane, the normal, the expected.  Then Bajie had come in and smashed all his expectations and made Tang yearn for more again.

At the very least, Bao is no longer a problem.  Tang feels a sense of satisfaction that when he enters a room, Bao is quick to leave it.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave so much,” he says, during a night when Bajie is here, and close, and Tang can lay with him.  “You never seemed bothered before.  You never went anywhere for this long.”

“I had a goal, then,” Bajie rumbles, voice soft.  “You’d be surprised by how easy it is to forget about other stuff when you have a task.  But I’m a demon, with a nine toothed rake that isn’t for tilling land.  I’m not made for domestic life.  Not when I’m just getting started.”

The explanation feels almost like a farewell, and something in Tang’s chest squeezes tight in a panic.  Tang isn’t a demon, he isn’t a fighter.  He’s the definition of domestic, isn’t he?  If Bajie isn’t made for domestic life, maybe Tang isn’t made for him.

“Can’t you stay?” Tang whispers, interlocking his fingers with Bajie’s.  His hand is dwarfed by Bajie’s large palm.  “Just for a little while.  Just—am I not enough?”

“Can’t you come with me?” Bajie rebuffs, voice almost too pointed.  “Aren’t I enough?”

And, well, there’s no winning the argument there.  Unstoppable force meets immovable object, and Tang’s afraid of the crash.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  “It’s never because you aren’t enough.” 

He needs Bajie to know that, to know that Tang isn’t doing this because Bajie failed, in some way.  Tang wishes he could feel secure enough to jump ship, to leave everything behind like Bajie wants.

But, regardless of what Bajie thinks, Tang has never been brave.

Bajie says nothing.  Tang wonders what the silence means.

As Tang wrestles with himself, his wants, his life, he finally comes to his conclusion.  He rethinks life, his own, from beginning to present, and like any good story he wants a happy ending.  Who doesn’t?

And he realizes, at the center of it all, that a happy ending isn’t possible if Bajie isn’t there.  That in every path Tang’s life leads him down, Bajie has to be there if it's to end with a smile.

And if Bajie needs Tang to leave, then Tang will swallow his terror and take the leap.  He has to at least try.  If it doesn’t work, if Tang fails, then...then he’ll only have himself to blame, won’t he?

He has to try.

There’s preparations to be had.  He researches.  While Bajie is out on trips to who knows where, Tang learns about the marriage methods of demons.  Apparently, when a demon takes a mortal’s hand in marriage, they kidnap the mortal, steal them away.  There’s an exchange of courting jewelry.  A physical claim.

He doesn’t have the money for jewelry, but he thinks he could do something else.  So he buys some paper, some leather, some twine, and carefully, he constructs a book.  A journal.  Something that they can write in for years to come, something they can share.  Maybe it’s unorthodox, maybe it isn’t good enough, but Tang wants to be able to look back.  He wants to see Bajie’s scrawled sentences, words written comically large next to Tang’s smaller, tighter script.

Maybe it isn’t the right way, but it’s Tang, in every sense of the word.  If Bajie rebuffs that, then there’s nothing to be done.

He writes out a script.  The next time Bajie leaves, Tang works on his speech, writes and rewrites.  He memorizes until every line is burned into his head, and then goes over it again, because he knows that when he says it he’ll stumble.

He plans, and strategizes, and hopes.

 This time, when Bajie returns, Tang can tell something is off. Bajie is….distracted.  He spends more time off to himself, staring out the window, than he does interacting with Tang.

It makes Tang anxious.  It feels like the moment before an explosion.  He wants to broach the subject, but he’s afraid of being caught in the blast zone of whatever Bajie is hiding.

So he sets the plans aside and focuses on lifting the terrible fog that makes Bajie stare at him like Tang is already gone.  Like Tang is some far away place that Bajie cannot reach.

It seems to work.  Tang complains uproariously about different texts he’s been reading in the interim of Bajie’s stay, and he gets Bajie to laugh.  He helps make dinner and remarks on how invaluable he is to Bajie’s cooking process.  Bajie rewards him with a few stories of some customer service issues he had to resolve when he worked as a cook.

“She had to get thrown out by the owner, she was screaming so loud,” Bajie laughs.  “It’s a good thing he settled things with her and not me.  I woulda given her the what-for, if she’d screamed at me.”

“I have no doubt,” Tang giggles.

It settles, as they become comfortable with each other again.  Every time Bajie leaves and comes back, it’s like they have to slowly get back in sync with each other.  Sometimes it takes longer than Tang likes.  Like now, where it feels like it takes weeks.

Bajie stays for an entire month and it takes most of that to get back to that comfortable place their relationship should always be in. A month full of Tang making excuses to wait to propose, making excuses to be patient, to give it a little more time.

But, after a month, things seem comfortable.  Tang swallows his fears.  Bajie called him brave once and Tang has to live up to that, right?

Except, after a week of things seeming okay, Bajie suddenly closes himself off again.  Goes quiet, empty.  Pensive and secretive in the worst way.

“Don’t shut me out,” Tang whispers, a hand against Bajie’ cheek.

Bajie’s sitting down, staring out the window, and Tang is standing, as he slowly turns Bajie’s face toward him.  “Is something wrong?  Tell me, please.  You’ve been...different.”

Bajie still stares at Tang as if Tang were the world, except now it’s as if the world is crumbling in front of him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Tang promises.

He leans in, so his forehead rests against Bajie’s.  Bajie leans into the touch, eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” Bajie’s voice is soft.  “I—nothing’s wrong.  I’m just...I’ve been thinking too much.”

“That’s a first,” Tang smiles, trying to joke.  

Bajie’s lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t smile.

Tang glances back, towards the book hidden, and thinks of the speech burned into his brain.  He could let everything out, right now.

But Bajie looks like he needs more time.  Looks as if Tang were to push, he’d crumble.  And Tang is terrified to see Bajie break, so he decides to wait a little longer.  To stall, a little longer.

It takes far too long to coax Bajie to lay down that night, pulling his gaze away from the starry sky and back to the ground, back to Tang’s eyes.  Tang searches for something familiar in Bajie’s, but the picture is too blurred to be recognizable.

“You look tired,” he hears himself say.  “You should get some rest.”

Bajie doesn’t reply, but he does lay down, and Tang curls up against him, like he always has.  Like he always should.

“I love you,” he whispers, promises, hopes.

Bajie must say it after Tang is already asleep.  He must.

That’s the only reason Tang wouldn’t hear it said back to him.

Tang does not see Bajie sit up in the night, knees pulled to his chest.  He does not see Bajie turn to look at him, eyes watery.  He does not see Bajie run a hand over his head, shaking, glancing between the door and Tang over and over.  He does not see Bajie reach a shaking hand over Tang, a breath away from touching down, from shaking Tang awake.  He does not see Bajie pull away with a choked breath so quiet it’s almost unheard even by Bajie’s ears.  He does not see Bajie cry into his knees for far too long, and he does not see Bajie wipe his eyes, look over, and press a feathersoft, gentle kiss to the top of Tang’s head.  He does not see Bajie stand, slowly, and walk out the door, never to return.

Tang sees none of this.  He wakes up the next morning to see Bajie gone, with nothing but the indentation he left in the bedroll to indicate he was ever there.

It’s odd, because typically Bajie says something before he goes, but Tang chalks it up to the odd mood Bajie was in.  He must have simply forgotten.  The alternative is of course laughable.  Impossible.

So Tang moves on, continues with his life, and waits for Bajie to return.  

Because he has to.

Right?

It takes three months for Tang to start doubting.  

It takes six for it to start to hurt.

A year passes.

Tang feels the shelter he’d given his heart cave in as he buckles under the weight of heartbreak.   

The cliff has crumbled beneath him.  He’s fallen over the precipice, and the worst part is that no one, absolutely no one, would ever think to reach and catch him.  

Heartbreak feels like grief.  Tang has felt grief before, when his beloved masters would eventually fall to time.  Loss of a person and loss of love are equally painful, because once something is gone it can never be reclaimed.

He goes through the motions.  Moves slow, but moves regardless, like every step is through mud. He gets up, gets breakfast, gets some new scrolls.  Meditates, waits.

He just keeps on waiting.  He refuses to get rid of the fire pit Bajie made, nor the kitchen utensils, nor the pot.  He cleans them, scrubbing them all until they shine in the sunlight, polished and pristine, and then he places them back in their spots with a reverence reserved for the gods.

When Bajie gets back, he’ll want them to look nice.

Another few months pass, before logic kicks in.  Of course Bajie would leave.  Why stay with a nobody, why stay with a mortal, a monk?  There are far too many cons against the few, if any, pros.  Tang should have known that this was an eventuality.  

Sure, he’d dreamed of them growing old together, or spending eternity together, or any number of things.  But those are all that those thoughts will ever be, dreams.

Tang is a fool, to dream.

The utensils collect dust.  Tang does not read books. He doesn’t do much of anything.  He meditates, more to give himself an excuse to sit, with his eyes closed, and forget existence.

He settles again.  He must.  Logic holds him together like cheap glue, and while his cracks drop pieces as he forces himself to continue to move on, move forward, it holds enough.  Enough that he can breathe.

“Have you heard?” 

Tang is eating lunch in the common area, idly chewing on rice, and he only hears the conversation because he’s not focusing on anything else.

“The monk Triptaka is going on a journey!”

“Isn’t his name Tang Sanzang?”

“Yeah, but he goes by Triptaka.  Maybe wants to get away from a name shared by…”

Tang ignores the glances thrown his way.  He’s dealt with them plenty.

“Anyway, he’s going on a journey to get holy scriptures.  I’ve heard Bodhisattva Guanyin is even overseeing the journey herself!  She amassed a group of demons to protect him.”

“Wow, who?”

“Sun Wukong-she had to release him from under a mountain.  She also got, um, I think a dragon prince to be his steed, a demon named Sha Wujing, and one named Zhu Bajie!”

Tang freezes.  Logic starts cracking.

“What?” he finds himself saying, turning to the group.  They seem startled by his intrusion into their conversation.

“Uhhh,” one of them goes, cringing away from Tang in confusion.

“Who is on the journey?  The last name you said.” The words keep coming out of him, and Tang doesn’t have the time to figure out where they’re coming from.

“Zhu Bajie?” The name falls out of the other’s lips, and Tang recoils.

No.  No, it must be a mistake.  It couldn’t be.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

The thought is acid in his brain.  It burns, and he feels his hands shake.  The bowl drops to the floor, and shatters against stone.  Rice is wasted at his feet.

“Tang?” someone says.

It doesn’t matter that this is the first time in months that anyone has spared him a drop of concern, because Tang is running, running to their room, running to the room he’s been waiting in for months and then was grieving in for longer as the pieces of his broken heart started trying to slide back together.

Everything is shattered again, and Tang doesn’t know if he can put himself back together.

He gets to their room and falls to his knees in the center, the thud muffled by a bedroll he hasn’t had the energy in months to fold or move because that would require realizing that one half of the space would never be filled again.  He covers his mouth with his hands.  He can’t stop shaking.

He can’t.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

He thought it was because he was a mortal.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

He thought it was because he was a monk

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Gods, he didn’t think it was because of his name, but even that avenue is gone.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Tang sobs.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

In the end, when you strip away his mortality, you strip away his monk status, when you strip away his name, all that’s left is his character.  His personality.  Himself.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

And that’s what Bajie ran from, wasn’t it?  That’s what he abandoned.  He didn’t abandon a mortal monk named Tang, he left Tang.  The person he is at his core.  Bajie looked, was given Tang’s heart, and decided that wasn’t what he wanted.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Tang laughs.

It’s funny, he thinks, after hours curled into a ball, heaving sobs and crackling laughs.  It’s so terribly funny, so terribly cruel, so terribly poetic.  He knew from a young age that he wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t a good monk, wasn’t a good person, but he’d tried.  He’d tried so hard. 

And then Bajie had come along.

And Tang had hoped.  Selfishly, he’d slacked on improvements, believed that he was enough as is.  Bajie never seemed to want more from him, never expected anything special, and Tang had grown lax, grown complacent.

No wonder Bajie had left him.  Tang was never good enough for anyone.

But maybe he can try to be.

He can’t change who he is.  Clearly, his 25 years of failure have shown him that.  He can’t change who he is at his core, but if he fixes everything else, maybe that will be enough.

Just maybe, then, he will be enough.

Step one.  Get rid of his mortality.

Bajie and him can’t share eternity if he’s dead a hundred years into it.  If he’s to reinvent himself into something worthy, into someone worthy, he needs time.  Mortality cuts that short.

He is a ghost in the monastery in the sense that he appears in rare bursts and his continued existence leads to whispers and rumors.  He leaves and does research in the library.  The stares of disapproval no longer stab through what once was pride, because that space in his chest has been torn open.  The knives pass right through the hole left in its wake.

He’s fervent.  Doesn’t sleep.  Doesn’t eat.  There is no point in maintaining a body doomed to die, regardless of his efforts.  He can care about himself when he’s worthy, when someone tells him he matters.

And no one has told him that.  Bajie can’t count anymore.  Not until Tang gets him back.

A year of research leads to nothing. 

Tang lives in the barest of senses, half dead on his feet as he works.  He has to figure it out, he has to.  The books he find tell him little.  But, then, he remembers the town.  The townspeople.  

People know plenty, when you know how to get it out of them.

He is a ghost in the town in the sense that he hides in its darkest, coldest corners and listens.  Travelers come in and out, always with stories.  Slowly, Tang learns how to use a stiff drink and a kind smile to pull the stories out.  Slowly, Tang learns how to twist until the people he talks to think that it was their idea, to say what he wants them to.

Tang does this all quietly.  He’s always had a way with words, always too afraid to use that power.  After all, a true monk wouldn’t be so manipulative, wouldn’t want the knowledge of anything beyond the buddhist texts, much less the ravings of wordly travelers.

Bajie is worldly.

Tang wants.

He has heard, from a million different whispers, of how Monkey King is able to live forever.

Folktales fall from slippery lips and Tang listens.  Tang learns and relearns, drags the specifics out with carefully placed drinks and sugary sweet honeyed words that coax out more information.  This is important.

Monkey King’s spirit was dragged down to Yama’s realm, he hears.  Monkey King blotted out his name from the ledger, so he may never die again.

Die again, he thinks, and realizes you have to die once for such a thing to be true.

He considers the stares aimed toward him.  He considers the lingering whispers of how he doesn’t belong, how he isn’t true to his practice.  He considers the years of him asking what else?  What else is there to learn?  He considers cold, disapproving eyes that followed him from youth to adulthood.

He considers blue, beautiful ocean blue ones that looked at him as if he’d hung the stars and he considers blue eyes gone in the night without a word.

Considers dying.  

Considers.

Acquiring poison isn’t difficult.  He buys it in the market (He used to go with Bajie where’d they’d pick out the vegetables and noodles for the ramen that night and make fun of weird shaped vegetables and laugh) with some coins Bajie left behind (left behind with him, like him, left left left abandoned because Tang made Bajie wait made Bajie lose love Tang ruined everything—) and stuffs it in his pocket.  He eats dinner (Bajie made it better he was always the better cook and Tang is nothing isn’t anything just the worst monk in the world—) and carefully pours himself some tea, mixes in the poison, and breathes.

It barely changes the taste.  There’s something bitter on the edge of it, but Tang drains the cup and sighs.  

He sets up his bedroll and lays down, eyes staring up at the ceiling.  He can feel a slight pain in his chest.  Likely due to the poison.  It’s not a very painful one, slow but not cruel.

Like this, he can practically feel Bajie next to him, a hand over his heart.  That must be where the weight on his chest comes from.  Must be.  Bajie has to be here, beside him, at the end of it all.  Where else would his love be?

They were having a conversation.  One hard to navigate, but Bajie was trying, so Tang would too.

“Why are you in love with me?” he tries to say, but the black edges take over his vision.

Dying isn’t so bad, he thinks, when it’s like this.

He comes to with little difficulty, laying down on stone.  The sky is a dark purple, with blue clouds.

He feels empty.  Weightless.

He stands and is immediately shuffled into a line of a million people, all spirits heading in one direction.  The dead are the dead, and he is placed with the typical mortals, those without plans.

Some are far older than him, some far younger.

The land of the dead is a palace.  He can see the entry gate, a speck in the distance.  The dead whisper amongst themselves, but he says nothing, stepping out of line.

He heads down the path away from the gate, off to the right.  Occasionally, he ducks out of the way of guards, which only proves that he’s going in the right direction.

Being dead doesn’t change much.  If anything, he feels a little lighter, without a physical body to hold him down.

He finds the room he’s looking for after about an hour, a large, seemingly endlessly long book sitting on a table, open on a table.  Tang walks over and when he looks down on it, he can see thousands of names.  Every second, another changes status.  Black for alive, white for dead.

White is a mourning color, after all.

He quickly begins searching for his own name, flipping through page after page with utter abandon and scanning, because time is of the essence.  He is fairly certain that there’s a reason only the Monkey King was known to have pulled this off, because it isn’t as though anyone besides King Yama and his attendants are meant to touch said book.

Not that Tang much cares who is and isn’t supposed to be doing this.  If he’d cared at this point, then, well, he wouldn’t have bought poison for himself.

He’s finally making headway, recognizing a few names from those who once lived in his town, when he hears footsteps coming toward his direction.

Well, not footsteps.  Hoofsteps.  The sound of cloven feet on tile.

Tang schools his expression, and continues to flip through the book, even as the steps come closer.

“Hey!” He hears.

He looks up.

Ox head and Horse face were mentioned in the stories detailing Monkey King’s escapade through the land of the dead.  They were the ones to drag the Great Sage’s spirit down, after all.  Ox head has dark eyes and a shining golden nose ring that accents the gold on his arm and leg bracers.  Horse face has golden earrings to match, and his outfit is much the same.  They both wear a leather-esque set of armor, ornate in its stitching, but scuffed with dirt from sparring matches or nonsense fights.

Tang looks them up and down, and decides immediately that they do not compare to how Bajie intimidates.

“Hello,” he greets, keeping his voice even and uninterested as he glances back down to the names on the page.

Ox head and Horse face stare, clearly taken aback by Tang’s cavalier attitude.  Tang is simply glad they can’t see his knees wobble behind the desk.  Sweat trails down the back of his neck.  He cannot fail.

He won’t.

“Mortals aren’t supposed to touch that,” Ox head growls out.

Tang looks up again, face the perfect picture of confusion, before he smiles.

“Oh,” He laughs a little.  “Clearly there’s been a communication error here.  King Yama sent me to fix a clerical mistake with this book.  I’m just looking for it now.”

He looks back down, and bites his lip to stop himself from smirking.  Time is of the essence.  If he finds his name before they catch onto the ruse, far better for it, right?  He just needs to find his name.  He can tell he’s close.

“Nobody told us about this.  And we’ve never seen you before,” Horse face interjects.

“Yeah, we’re in charge here.  Someone would’ve said something to us,” Ox head agrees.

“If you say so,” Tang replies.  “I’m simply following orders.  King Yama is a very busy man, and he wanted this completed quickly.  If you want to waste his time by dragging me to him just to get the same answer I’ve told you, be my guest.  

“But,” Tang shrugs and smiles. “I don’t believe King Yama is very forgiving, when someone is wasting his time.” 

He continues to flip through the book, ever patient.  When he glances up, for a split second, he can see Ox head and Horse face share a look.

“...You know what, I think I remember being told about, the, uh, clerical thing,” Horse face finally says.

“Yeah,” Ox head agrees, awkwardly.

“Don’t, uh, don’t tell King Yama about this, alright?” Horse face tries for a smile.

“We’ll just keep this between us,” Ox head fidgets with his arm bracers.

Tang smiles, and he doesn’t know what he looks like, but the two demons freeze.

“Of course,” hHe replies.

The pair leaves, rather quickly.

It takes Tang a few more minutes to find his name, written in white on the yellowed pages.  There are pens near the book, so clerical changes must be a plausibility.  He takes one of the small pens and dips it into the inkwell.  He carefully drags the ink across his name, blacking it out.

With a harsh yank, his soul is pulled away from tangibility, and he drops the pen with a clatter as he is rocketed back up, up, up—slammed into his body with utter abandon, weightlessness and emptiness replaced with the heavy feeling of embodiment.

He wakes up with a gasp, and when he breathes he coughs, as if his lungs collected dust in the time he wasn’t using them.  He moves his limbs experimentally, and everything moves fine.  His senses are a little duller, he thinks.  His vision was always poor, but now it’s even moreso.  He doesn’t smell much of anything.  He can barely taste his own saliva.  There’s a ringing in his ears that doesn’t go away, but eventually he gets used to the sound.

He sits up, glancing around. Everything in his room is untouched.  He is unsure of how long he was dead.

To the left, he hears the shuffling of footsteps.  He turns his head.

Bao is scrambling back, half fallen over, hand gripping the doorframe.  His eyes are wide, his breaths are coming out as gasps.

“You—” Bao breathes.  “You were dead.  I-I checked—you were dead.”

Tang stares.

Bao.  Terrible, awful, disgusting Bao.  A nuisance that plagued Tang’s life for years, a person who took great joy in Tang’s upset.  A person who, at one point, was someone Tang desired the respect of.

Terrible, awful, disgusting Bao, trembling at the sight of him.

Tang smiles, slow, letting his lips curl up to show a flash of teeth, and finally learns the joy that comes from being feared.  He winks.

“Only technically,” He says, almost hisses, and he finds a perverse sense of utter satisfaction as Bao pales, turns on his heel, and runs, as fast as he can.

Away from him.

Tang laughs to the disappearing sound of footsteps, and breathes in new air.  He thinks Bajie would be proud of him, as he stands and brushes himself off.  He’s finally stopped caring.  

Immortality achieved.  But there’s still more to do.  If he’s to be worthy, he needs power.

Which means he needs to learn how to acquire it.

He takes what will be useful, settles it into a pack, and leaves his home of a quarter of a century behind without much thought.  So silly of him, to be attached to it.  If only he’d left sooner.  If only he’d stopped caring sooner, maybe this all could have been avoided.

He leaves the utensils.  Leaves his books, the dictionary, and keeps the memories safe in the space where his heart once resided, heading off to the next town.

He becomes a vagabond of sorts, coasting from town to town.  He will devour the town library’s collection, searching for something, anything, and perhaps partake in town gossip.  People have so much to say, after all.  Finding the pearls of wisdom and knowledge beneath the swine tales, so to speak, is something he becomes rather shrewd at.  

Some of the people he talks to apparently find him attractive.

“Has anyone told you that you have beautiful eyes?” A woman he met in a small restaurant asks him.

 I like your eyes, because they’re a brown red I haven’t seen before.

“No,” Tang replies.  “But it’s kind of you to say.”

He’s drawn to a town over whispers of mystic artifacts and knowledge being held there.  It’s a rather unassuming town, no different from the others, but the library is a bit bigger than most.  He pours over texts, though in the week he spends searching for something of use he comes up short.

Frustration has him nearly tearing the pages, and he lets out a harsh breath through his nose and forces himself to be patient.  He has eternity, after all.  As does Bajie.  The execution of his plan needs to be perfect or it won’t work.

A tap on his shoulder.  Tang turns his head to glance up at the librarian, previously absent or seemingly oblivious to his existence.  She stares at him with sharp, knowing eyes.

“You seek something?” she asks.

“Knowledge,” Tang finds himself replying.  “Power.”

She smiles at him.  It’s a wicked type of smile, but nothing cruel towards him.

“Come. I have something for you to see.” She turns, and gestures for him to follow. 

Tang nearly trips over himself rushing to her side.

She leads him to a room behind the library desk, a small office with more bookshelves filled with large, old scrolls and books.  He watches her trace her fingers across the different scripts, searching, before she slides a book out from the shelf and turns, handing it to him.

“If you want power, this is how you will take it,” she says.

She opens the book in his hands, flipping it to a specific page and pointing at the picture there.

“A gem,” she explains.  “You fill it with life, and it grants you power.”

Tang reads over the text.  You take a gemstone, one typically one clear in color for better results, and then use the life force of others to power it.  After a certain amount of power is added to the gem, you fuse it with your being.

“I’ll have to kill humans?” he asks, glancing up at her.

She chuckles.  “If you want, but it would take a lot.  Demons are far more...potent.”

Tang nods.

Demons.  That may take some work.  Demons are a breed far more powerful than humans, and even as an immortal being, Tang is fragile.

And, before even that, there’s the matter of acquiring a gemstone.  Those are often expensive.

He snaps the book shut.

“Thank you.” He bows his head in thanks.  “I’ll be taking this.”

It’s not a request.  He leaves with the book in hand and starts his search for a jewel.

He finds it three towns over.  There’s a jeweler there with an assortment of gemstones.  All definitely out of Tang’s price range, but now he’s located them. 

He thinks of stealing, but that’s a fool’s errand.  Taking something that can be bought with hard work is something an idiot would do.  Tang wants to be able to move between towns as he pleases, and gaining a reputation of a criminal makes it far less likely that people will speak to him, will tell him the things he needs to know.

So, he gets a job at a restaurant.  Bajie did it once and so shall he.

The work gives him something to do.  Being immortal means sleep and nourishment are no longer a requirement, and without those time killers the days and nights stretch on longer and longer, Tang made painfully aware of every passing hour, minute, second.  His purpose, his goal, remains the same, but with his job now there’s something else to occupy his time as he plans.

Plus, it helps that he learns how to use a knife effectively.  Bajie taught him the basics, but when it’s the lunch rush you learn far more how to cut, dice, chop, and slice efficiently.  If he’s to kill demons, he needs to be able to fight.  

His coworkers do try to start conversations with him, but he is far too focused on the task at hand to join in.  They learn, eventually, that he isn’t up for talking.  Interacting with people is only useful when there is something to gain from it.

Life has made it very clear that friendships do not come to him, so there is no bother hoping.  Tang is chasing the only person who gave him some semblance of respect.  He does not need, nor want, anyone else.

No one typically comments on his appearance.  His skin is paler than most, eyes dark and shadowed.  Still, that’s not enough to raise suspicion of him.

Typically, anyway.

“Do they know?” A man asks, when Tang comes up to the counter to hand him his order.  “Do they know what you are?”

Tang glances at the man with a small smile.

The man pales.  

Tang smiles wider.

“Here’s your order, sir,” he says.

The man leaves.  Quickly.

It takes him a year to accrue enough funds to acquire the gem.  It’s a clear white stone, almost in the shape of a teardrop, and it sits comfortably in his palm.  The jeweler had asked if it was a gift for someone.  Tang chose not to reply.

Now, there’s the matter of finding a demon to power it.  Again, not very hard.  Demons are well known to ravage towns from time to time.  Steal their crops, take the flesh to devour, things like that.  The next town over has been struggling with one.  Nothing too powerful, or else they’d have had a far bigger outcry, but of interest nonetheless.

He leaves his job without notice.  He doesn’t care if they’re bereft of a cook, not when he’s so close.  He rushes off, clutching his gemstone and his knives and disappearing into the night.

The demon doesn’t attack during the day, so when he arrives he has enough time to ask around.  Gather details.

They’re some sort of rhino demon, evidently.  Charging through homes in the night, taking mortals to consume, leaving nothing but demolished buildings and blood in their wake.  The townspeople are terrified, spending most of their days fortifying their homes.  They’ve neither the money nor support to escape, and sending for help will likely take too long.

That’s fine.  Tang can take care of this for them.  They get to be saved, and more importantly, he gets the power he needs. 

Tang stands at the entrance to the town, the moon high in the sky, patiently waiting for the demon to arrive.  His knife is gripped tightly in hand.  He has his pants rolled up to his knees, though his sleeves still hang loosely.

He hears the footsteps before he sees them.  Charging hoofsteps on the ground, and the glint of blood red eyes.  The rhino demon is large, at least twice his height, and is aiming for him, specifically.

Tang side steps, holding his knife out and letting it slice through the demon’s hide as he charges past.

“Sloppy,” he calls, turning around.  

Blood drips down the demon’s side.  The demon snarls, baring his sharp teeth.  He shakes his injured leg out a few times, splattering blood across the dirt, before he stomps it back down onto the ground, readying his stance for another charge.

Tang readies himself.  “Not used to a human who fights back?” 

Bajie taught him to fight.  Well, more how to dodge, because he said if Tang got hit by a demon even once he’d probably die on the spot.  Apparently, humans are very fragile.

“Do you have to be careful, with me?” Tang asked.

“A little,” Bajie had admitted.  “I mean, you’re not made of glass.”

“I’d hope not,” He’d laughed, sitting on Bajie’s shoulder..

“But I have to be a little careful,” Bajie shrugs the shoulder Tang isn’t sitting on.  “Most demons wouldn’t.  I, uh, want you to be ready for that.”

Tang scritched the place behind Bajie’s ears that always made a purr rumble up Bajie’s throat, smiling when he heard it right on cue.

“You have a lot of enemies?” he’d asked.

Bajie laughed.

“Something like that.”

The demon charges, and Tang jumps, stepping onto the demon’s large horn and using it as a springboard.  He leaves a large gash in the demon’s back when he descends, stumbling a little when he hits the dirt.

There’s a roar of pain from the demon at that.

Tang smirks.

He ducks when a large fist is levied his way.

Jump.  Sidestep.  Dodge.  Slash.

Close quarter combat would be to Tang’s disadvantage, considering one blow would break him into pieces.  The demon knows it, refusing to allow Tang an opening to make any more distance.  Tang doesn’t let that deter him, using the milliseconds between strikes to slash at whatever part his knife can reach.

By the time he trips, the demon is bleeding in more places than Tang can count.  Not bleeding much, the gashes rather small, but bleeding a little from a lot still has an impact.

Of course, getting choked also has an impact, Tang finds.

A large hand grips him by the neck when Tang trips, squeezing tight enough to bruise and then some.  If Tang were entirely mortal, well, this would be it for him.  Needing to breathe is certainly something required of Tang, in a sense, but he can hold his breath for far longer.  He makes his eyelids flutter, sliding them shut to keep the illusion that he’s dying. 

As this happens, as he goes limp, the demon huffs. Even relaxes a little, as if the battle’s won.

Tang opens his eyes and smiles.  He slashes once more and catches the demon across the throat.

Blood sprays out as if it were thrown out of a bucket, coating Tang’s face before he’s dropped.  The demon presses his hands to his throat and chokes, coughing up blood and wheezing for air.

The demon drops to his knees.  Tang comes close.

He drives his knife into the demon’s head, right below the horn, and the demon goes limp.

Tang side steps the falling body.

He takes a few deep breaths, watching the blood pour across the dirt in a way he’s never seen before.  He’s never watched anyone die like this.  He’s never made someone die like this.

All life is sacred, he was told.  All life was to be protected, cared for.  That’s why he was vegetarian.  That’s why he was a monk.  He should feel something, staring at the dead body before him.  He should be devastated by his actions.  He should be horrified.

He should care, but the demon was killing this town.  All life cannot be sacred when one life takes so many.  And, besides that, he needs the power.  If this is how he is to gain it, so be it.

He pulls out the gem, fumbling a bit.  His hands are wet from the blood.  He presses the gem against the demon’s body and waits.

Sure enough, energy flows into it.  The gem warms in his grip, and Tang swears he can hear a rattling scream before the gem begins to glow pink.  Reaching towards red, but not quite there.   

He holds the gem up in the moonlight, watching the light filter though it.  It’s too clear, still.  Once it’s near opaque-that’s when it’s ready.

“Look on the bright side,” he says to the body, though his voice is hoarse.  His throat is sure to bruise, and it makes it a little difficult to speak.  “Now that you aren’t murdering families in the night, maybe you’ll be of use.”

He pockets the gem, and after stealing some hanging clothes from the village—he feels little remorse, considering he saved the town—leaves the body to rot.

He washes himself off, burns his bloody clothing.  He’ll have to be smarter, he thinks, about how he kills.  Clothes are not easy to come by, and Tang doesn’t enjoy the idea of taking new clothes every time he kills a demon.  Far too much work, honestly.

He cleans off his knife once the rest of him is free of blood, staring at his reflection in the water.  The knife glimmers in the daylight.  The gemstone weighs heavy in his pocket.

He travels on the words of humans towards demons, flitting through the towns of the former and murdering the latter, and finds it a little isolating that he sees himself as neither.

The isolation is nothing new, though.  Tang has always been alone.

It’s after the sixth demon he kills that the gem starts to glow with promise, rattling in his grip as it begs for an outlet.  One powerful demon would have brought it to this point easily, but while Tang is no longer mortal, he is still terribly human, which means he is terribly weak.  He has to find the scraps of the demon world, those so weak they spend their days with mortals, hiding amongst them while trying to live a normal life.  He finds them using sigils that allow him to follow their trails like a scent, and he is silent as the grave in the night, knife steady in hand.

He’s gotten rather proficient with a knife, but he hates using it.  Too messy, too close, too personal.  He’ll find something more suitable later.

For now, there’s the matter of making sure the power he won (stole is such a dirty word, and is it really stealing if he beat the demon fair and square?) stays with him.  Consulting the book he took from the library, he knows he needs to establish a physical connection to it. 

That requires effort.  But Tang is nothing if not stubborn enough to make it work.

That night, he takes off his shirt and folds it carefully, setting it down beside him.  He places the gem on top of the cloth, and then uses his finger to trace the line where he needs to make the incision.  

He grabs the knife and follows his finger’s line down the center of his chest with the tip of the blade.  

Up and down, up and down.  

It starts to burn.  He trembles.  

It stings, aches, sharp and raw, and the knife slips from his fingers.

It drops, he presses a shaking hand to the wound.

Gasping for air, he coughs on agony.  Chokes on it as he wrestles with the pain of the action.  The urge to heave makes him shudder.

He isn’t unused to pain. He’d slipped a few times, cut his fingers while preparing dinner with Bajie.  The bruises on his neck took weeks to heal and asphyxiation burned.

But nothing like this.  Carving flesh, your own flesh, and having to continue regardless of every logical, emotional, and primal part of yourself screaming at you to stop is a challenge Tang didn’t think would be so hard to undertake.

Not for the faint of heart, the book said.  

His is already shattered, isn’t it?  What’s another break?

He takes a piece of wet cloth and wipes away the excess, patching up his failed attempt and making sure everything is clear.  He cleans off the knife, and takes a deep breath.

He raises the blade to right beneath his chest, closer to it than his stomach but still enough below that it isn’t exactly where his heart resides.  He hisses a breath in through his teeth as he sinks the blade in again.

Up and down, slowly pushing in deeper and deeper until the blade presses into flesh.

Up and down, like cutting vegetables, steady.

Up and down, deeper with each movement.

Blood wells up and pours down his chest as he slices deeper.  The stream buffers with every rise and fall of his chest as he takes deep breaths.

His hand shakes.  Pain is all he can think of and he pulls out the knife when he manages to make an incision a centimeter deep.  

Deep breaths.  Focus.

His teeth are clenched so tight they might shatter in his mouth, as he reaches over and grabs the gem.  He sets the knife aside and uses one finger to pull one side of the incision apart, creating more space.

His skin is clammy, sweat dripping down as he fights to keep himself from curling in on himself and screaming.

The blood pools down his legs, dripping toward the ground.

The gem sits comfortably in his palm, as he drags his tired limb up to press the stone into the newly made space.  His fingers are slick with blood, fumbling and terribly unsteady, as he forces the gem in deeper, until it pushes apart his flesh even more.

The sound is wet and sticky, as if his flesh were overwatered rice.  He swallows back nausea at the thought.  His breaths are haggar pants, wheezing gasps as his lungs beg for air below the lump of pain that tightens his throat.

The power hums, as he presses a flat palm against his chest, holding the gem in.  It pulses once, twice.

And then everything pitches into white hot agony.  Tang screams.

White becomes red in his vision as power surges through his core, the smell of burnt meat rising up to his nose as the gem clings to his flesh and fuses with it.  He can feel it touch bone, pressing against it.  He can feel veins crawling beneath his skin like worms, forcing their way into him.  

He curls in on himself, holding himself up by his forearms trembling against the ground, as something inhuman breaks through any barriers Tang once had and makes a home in his center.

It feels like hours.  Like centuries, even, as he twitches uncontrollably with every spark of energy that courses through him.  He coughs, and blood splatters onto his knees and onto the ground.  He spits a few times, to get the rest of it out of his mouth.  The metallic, bittersweet taste lingers on his tongue.

He swallows the urge to vomit up the meager meal he had a few hours earlier and breathes hard through mouth.

And then, as quickly as the pain comes, it vanishes.  Warmth spreads through his being, a soothing balm against the agony that threatened to pull him under.  Skin and flesh knit itself back together, even his first attempt healed within moments.  Where there was once pain there’s adrenaline

Tang pushes himself up and wipes his mouth.  A flash has him staring at his palm in surprise.

Crackling red energy twirls around his fingertips.  It bathes his skin in warm light, and when he clenches his fist and opens it again the power settles in his palm like a flame. Swaying with the wind, it moves in time with each breath.

His eyes glow with promise, as power surges through him.  He throws his arm out towards the firewood and the red energy crashes against the wood, splintering it and creating a blaze that shoots up tall, the flame rising up towards the treetops before it settles.  

He lets out a half hysterical laugh, a hand still against his chest.  He traces the veins that pulse outward, bright red, and imagines just how powerful he’ll be with more than six demons, more than ten, more than a hundred even.  It doesn’t matter how much it’ll take, he’ll make it happen.

“Just you wait, Bajie,” he whispers, grinning, imagining warm blue eyes, imagining the room they shared, imagining a new one.

The journal, the speech, it sits in the forefront of his mind.  He hasn’t had a chance to give either, yet, but that’ll change.  It’s only a matter of time.

“I’ll catch up to you soon.”

[datleggy]

Albert Plots aka coda to 4x02

One of Bucks house rules is: don't barge into my room unannounced.

It only becomes a house rule, of course, after Albert inadvertently interrupts his therapy session as he's mid sentence. 

"Oh crap, sorry sorry, I didn't realize--I mean, I thought--sorry." Albert finishes lamely, cringing at his own intrusion.

Buck practically chucks his tablet across his bed, face down, in his surprise. “Dude, knock.” 

Albert shrugs, grimacing apologetically. “You don’t have a door though?” 

Buck sighs, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Just...announce yourself next time, ok? Like, yell ‘I’m coming up’ or whatever.” 

Albert nods. “Sorry.” he mutters again. 

Buck decides the kid looks contrite enough that he can brush the whole thing off--it’s not like he overheard anything. “It’s ok, don’t worry, we’re good. What’s up? You needed something?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to order pizza but um,” Chimneys little brother pauses and scratches the back of his head. “Are you ok?” 

Buck gulps. “Uh, yeah, I--why wouldn’t I be?” Well shit, Buck thinks, maybe he did overhear a tidbit or two, after all... 

“Well,” Albert purses his lips to one side. “What you said just now, about hiding your feelings? Sorry, I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop--I was hungry and didn’t think before running up here. But um, listen, if you ever need an ear or a shoulder,” he shrugs delicately. “You’ve been there for me before a few times now. I like to think we’re good friends, so I want you to know you can always count on me to be there if you need someone. That’s all.” 

Buck would be touched if he weren’t also kind of mortified over having been caught spilling his guts to Dr. Copeland. Albert must see that, because he immediately moves to change the subject. “So, pizza?” 

“Yup,” Buck clears his throat. “Sal’s is the best joint in the area, their menu’s on the fridge, call and order whatever you want. I’ll umm, I’ll join you in a little bit.” 

"Ok." Albert scurries off quickly enough and Buck feels a little bad for not being more reassuring that he's not upset with him. But it's hard; being vulnerable, that is.

********

An hour later dinner is silent and just a tiny bit awkward between the two men.

It's only after a couple of beers that Buck loosens up enough to blurt out, "I'm in love with Eddie."

Albert blinks up at him in surprise. "Oh shit." His face breaks out into a happy grin. "Dude, that's awesome! I always thought you two would be good together. Actually, I gotta admit, I thought you two were dating when we first met at that bar. So it makes sense." Albert's voice trails off upon realizing how red Buck's face has gone. "Wait, did you not--you know? Know?" Albert's eyes grow wide.

Buck shrugs. "I kinda always knew? But I mean, the Eddie thing is..." He groans, "How am I supposed to tell my best friend I'm in love with him? It would ruin everything."

Albert shakes his head adamantly. "No way man, you said it yourself, Eddie's your best friend, your feelings for him wouldn't 'ruin' anything. Even if by some crazy chance he doesn't feel the same way it's not like he'd stop being friends with you."

Buck rubs a hand up his shoulder and bites on his bottom lip. "But what if that's exactly what happens? I don't wanna hide my feelings anymore, from anyone, but I don't think I can take that risk--it's too big, I could lose too much."

Albert has seen the way Eddie looks at Buck when he thinks no one is else is paying attention. “Look man, I’m not exactly the observant type--Howie can tell you that--but even I can see Eddie’s heart eyes when he’s looking in your direction.” 

Buck groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I just don’t wanna mess up what we have.” he looks up, his expression sullen. “We’ve got a good thing going.” he shrugs. “If I confess my feelings there’s a chance--” he sighs, hanging his head. “I can’t do it.” 

Albert reaches over and squeezes his shoulder in support. Suddenly an idea strikes him. “Hey,” he jumps up. “What if I could prove to you that Eddie’s just as into you as you are, into him? Would you say something then?” 

Buck lifts his head to look Albert in the eye, “How would you go about doing that?” 

Albert waves him off. “You don’t gotta worry about that part. Just trust me.” 

Buck raises a brow, dubious. “Ok, but you need to promise you won’t say anything about my feelings to Eddie--or to anyone, for that matter. Not even Chimney can know.” 

“I swear, not a word!” 

*********

Albert strikes over the weekend, during a friendly game of basketball with the 118. Albert had originally only been intending to play one on one with Chim, like usual, but had convinced him to invite everyone at the station, too, last minute. 

“Buck’s on my team!” Albert declares, before anyone can even truly get settled. 

Chim glares at Albert. “Oh yeah, call dibs on our tallest guy.” 

Albert shrugs, throwing an arm around Buck and pulling him close. “And let’s not forget the most handsome.” he winks at Buck with the subtlety of a fire engine racing across town. 

Chim raises a questioning brow at his brother but otherwise doesn’t comment. “Uh huh. Anyway, then I want Eddie on my team.” 

Eddie steps up beside Chim, giving Buck a look. “Ready to get your ass handed to you?” 

Buck scoffs. “I have the power of youth on my side, thanks.” he says, pointing to Albert. 

Bobby clears his throat. “This is starting to feel a lot like a middle school gym class, where I’m picked last for teams.” 

Hen bumps his fist in camaraderie. “Preach, Cap.” 

“Hen, I call Hen!” Chimney immediately announces, practically dragging his best friend over to his side. 

“Good, cause I was gonna pick Captain Nash anyway.” Albert sticks his tongue out. 

Buck grins when Bobby walks over to stand beside him. His parents never let him play sports when he was a kid--he had to forge their signatures for whatever ‘dangerous’ activity he wanted to participate in, and so he and his dad had never gotten to toss the ball around in the backyard the way most of his friends had, growing up. 

Being on the same team with Bobby now kind of feels like that. Not that he’d say it out loud. He’s way too old for that stuff now. Not to mention the fact that now he has to focus on both the game and on whatever Albert is plotting with him and Eddie. 

Buck sighs. He should’ve kept his big mouth shut. 

The game starts out friendly enough, some playful jabs thrown here and there, but Buck can tell Albert and Chimney are out for blood, knocking elbows and teasing the other when they miss a shot. Though, he concedes, they are siblings, and well, he and Maddie, even at this age, can still get a little overly zealous when competing with one another. So he’s not too worried. 

They take a break about half way through the game, sweaty and tired from running around so much, when Albert starts to speak. “Man, I can’t wait for that double date next Friday.” 

Chim glances up at him from the bench, where he’s rehydrating. “You’re going on a date? First I’ve heard.” 

Albert nods. “Yup. With Buck and these two really cool chicks I met at the coffee shop a couple of weeks ago.” 

Eddie furrows his brows. “Did you say Friday?” 

Albert nods, knowing exactly where this is going. 

Eddie turns to Buck, who’s trying his best to telepathically communicate with Albert to cut it out before he strangles the kid. “Uh, Friday’s game night.” he says, his tone slightly accusatory. 

Bobby’s eyes dart between the two men curiously. Hen presses her lips together. ���Game night?” 

Eddie nods. “Every Friday we get together at my place and do a game night. Christopher looks forward to ‘em every week.” 

Albert cuts in before Buck can say anything. “Wow, you two sound like a married couple with a kid.” he teases. “But I mean, what’s the big deal, missing one game night? Buck could meet the love of his life Friday night. Isn’t that a little more important?” 

Eddie makes a face none of the crew can really read. “Guess you’re right.” he agrees reluctantly, picking up the ball and passing it to Chimney just a tad on the rough side. “Break’s over, let’s get back to it, yeah?” He steps out into the court without looking back, his shoulders set rigidly. 

Albert grins at Buck, whispering as the others head to the court as well, “It’s working!” 

“He looks like he wants to kill someone.” Buck half whispers back, eyes wide. “Your plan sucks.” 

“Shh, you’ll be thanking me later, now c’mon, let’s go!” Albert runs into the court and takes his position at the front, between Buck and Bobby. 

Buck can’t help but focus entirely on Eddie’s sour mood during the game, which is probably why he doesn’t notice the uneven asphalt as he goes to catch Bobby’s toss until it’s too late. He loses his footing and goes down hard. 

Buck’s back and side hit the pole connected to the basketball net and the damn thing actually shakes with the force of the collision. Bobby is on him instantly, helping him up and asking if he’s alright. Buck tries to say he’s fine, but the moment he’s standing he bends over, wrapping an arm around himself, wincing in pain. “Hurts.” he admits. 

Eddie sprints across the ball court to help Bobby get Buck to the benches where he can sit and they can see what’s going on. Hen lifts his shirt and grimaces tightly at the humongous ugly bruise already forming against his back and part of his chest. “Jesus, Buck.” she feels around that area. 

Buck gasps at the onslaught of pain and tries his best not to flinch away from her. 

“Definitely some bruised ribs, Buck,” Hen tells him sympathetically, pulling down his shirt as gently as she can. “Possibly fractured. I would definitely get this checked out in the ER, in case they’re broken. They’ll need to do an x-ray and a CT just to rule it out.” 

Buck groans. “Can’t I just ice it?” 

“C’mon,” Bobby shakes his head, helping Buck get up. “I’m taking you--” 

Eddie interrupts, his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I can go. Christopher’s at a sleepover today, so I’m free anyway.” he volunteers. 

Buck is in too much pain to argue with either of them, and ends up in the front passenger seat of Eddie’s truck. Bobby makes Eddie promise to text the team updates. 

**********

Eddie fills out Bucks form so he can hold an ice pack to his side while they wait in the ER. Once he’s done he hands it to the nurse at the front desk and sits down next to Buck. “How ya’ feeling?” 

Buck knows there isn’t a point to lying, not when he needed to lean the majority of his weight on the other man from the car to the waiting room, after all. “Like the whole left side of me got hit by a car.” 

“Here, gimme that, I’ll hold it for you.” Eddie takes the ice pack and places it gently against his side, grimacing when Buck cringes. “Hurt a lot?” 

“Only when I breath.” Buck jokes, though it’s not too far from the truth. “You know you don’t have to stay here with me, I can call an Uber to drive me home. The place is packed, we’re probably gonna be waiting for hours.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’m not leaving you, so this had better be your first and last attempt at getting me to go.” 

Buck sighs. “Fine.” 

“Good.” Eddie clears his throat. “So...” 

Buck turns his eyes towards him. “So?” 

“You’re really not coming to game night Friday?” 

Buck looks away. He doesn’t want to lie to Eddie, but how crazy would he look if he told him Albert made all that up--in order to admit the truth he’d also have to confess his feelings for his best friend, and there’s just no way in hell that’s happening. “Yeah,” he says instead, “Sorry, I was planning on telling you later today, it just kinda slipped my mind.” 

Eddie hums, pursing his lips. “No it’s cool, Albert’s right. She might be the one.” he says, though it’s said dryly. 

Buck looks up at him from underneath his long lashes, curiously. “And uh, if she is?” 

“Then,” Eddie shrugs, “Good for you.” 

Buck nods. 

An uncomfortable silence falls upon the two men and it’s another half hour of awkwardness before Eddie picks up the conversation again. 

“You know what,” he starts, turning to Buck, “I lied. Not good for you.” 

Buck blinks at the bluntness. “What?” 

“I don’t want you to go on that date. And I don’t want to cancel game night. I know it’s selfish and I’m being kind of psycho right now, but I think I’m jealous?” Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, as though he hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud. Like the words simply spilled forth without his brains permission. 

“You’re jealous? Of...what?” Buck doesn’t dare to hope this is what he thinks it is. 

Eddie groans, putting down the ice pack for a moment and turning his chair completely to the side so he can face Buck fully. “I know I said Christopher looks forward to game nights, and he does, but so do I. I look forward to spending time with the two of you together and I get excited when our shifts line up on certain weeks and I’m getting tired of saying goodnight and watching you walk to your Jeep, all because I’m too much of a coward to just say--” Eddie stops himself, his chest aching, the words caught in his throat. 

“I’m in love with you.” Buck blurts out. 

“You--” Eddie stammers. “You are?” he asks in disbelief. 

Buck gulps, his cheeks heating up. “For a while now, I think. I just...hadn’t realized until recently.” Dr. Copeland had been a huge part of figuring that out. 

“Christ,” Eddie doesn’t waste a second more. He takes Bucks face in his hands and brings their foreheads together right then and there. “Can I...?” 

Buck nods, their lips brushing slightly with the motion. “Please.” 

Eddie kisses him, softly, tentatively, before pulling away just a bit. “I love you.” he confesses breathlessly. 

Buck thinks his heart might actually burst out of his chest. 

Man, Albert is never gonna let him hear the end of this. 

.

[eliemo]

Kiss Me (Before I Set the World on Fire)

Summary: Virgil should have told Roman why it bothered him so much. He would have understood. He should have known staying silent would just lead to something far worse.

Taglist: @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess (let me know if you want to be added)

“Oh my god, what now?”

Virgil forced himself not to flinch at the exasperation in Roman’s tone, instead crossing his arms and forcing himself to match the Prince's glare.

“What? I literally didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly!” Roman stood, reaching over to pause the recording. “You’re just sitting here sulking! Come on, Charlie Frown, why are you so against this video?”

Virgil sighed, running a hand over his face, wishing they could just drop the whole thing and disappear under the covers of Roman’s bed, letting everything but the two of them fade away for the rest of the day.

But apparently, Roman had gotten it into his head that he and Virgil needed to film some sort of “couples video” for Thomas’s channel and had spent the last week begging Logan to talk Thomas into it.

It wasn’t that Virgil was completely against the idea. It was hard to be completely against anything when he was doing it with Roman. It was just...they’d only been dating a little over a month, both still fighting to work around their own fears and insecurities to make things work, and Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about putting their new dynamic out in the open for the whole world to see.

That, and the fact that today was just a bad day. It wasn’t anything unusual- just one of those days where Virgil’s anxiety wouldn’t leave him alone, exhausted brain running on overdrive. Paranoia and racing thoughts had kept him up most of the night, but he’d been careful not to mention anything in an attempt to not ruin Roman’s good mood.

Seemed he’d managed to do that anyway.

“Because I just...don't know how I feel about it,” he said. “I mean, come on. Is anyone actually gonna care that we’re together?”

“Of course they will!”

“But...why can’t we just casually mention it in passing?” Virgil asked. “Why do we have to make a video about it at all? Does it have to be this big of a deal?”

Truthfully, Virgil had to constantly keep himself from telling every single person in the entire world how happy he was, how incredible it was that he and Roman had gotten together. A part of him, the part not ruled by crippling fear, wanted the entire world to see how perfect they were together, wanted to shout it from the rooftops and make an entire series declaring his undying love.

But the reality of the situation was that they weren’t perfect.

Roman was, of course. He was...he was Roman. He was the Prince, he was Thomas’s creativity, elegant and beautiful and kind.

And Virgil was...Virgil. He was anxiety and doubt, dark, gloomy, and scared, and all he did was drag everyone back.

He and Roman weren’t perfect, happy as they were together, simply because Virgil was there. Nothing was perfect when he was involved. He just...he tainted it.

Somehow though, Roman overlooked that. Roman loved him, and they made it work.

But not everyone else was going to see it that way. Not everyone was going to turn away from his flaws. People would see him and Roman together, see how much better Roman deserved, and they wouldn’t be afraid to say something.

And Roman...Roman did deserve better. And if enough people pointed out how awful Virgil was, made convincing enough arguments for why Prince should leave...maybe he’d decide they were right.

“It wasn’t a big deal until you made it one,” Roman shot back, and cold panic began to curl in Virgil’s gut at the bite in his tone. “Jeez, what’s your deal?”

Virgil knew full well that if he told Roman the real reason he was uneasy about the idea, if he’d asked for just a few days to unwind and rest and hopefully avoid the panic attack he could already feel building up, he would back off immediately and offer any help he could.

But Virgil still wasn’t great at asking for help.

“Because it’s a stupid idea!” God, why couldn’t he just control himself? “Sorry I don’t want to sit here for ten minutes listening to you- you- brag and shit!”

Roman barked a laugh, the sound humorless. “Brag? Right, that’s what I’ll do. Brag about my boyfriend who refuses to let anyone do anything fun.”

“Fun? How is this fun? It’s just gonna be you talking about yourself and how much more romantic you are, or whatever. No one cares, Princey. It’s just gonna turn out dumb and awkward.”

Something far too close to real hurt flashed in Roman’s eyes, the argument taking on a dangerous edge, but it was quickly squandered by something darker.  

“I don’t just talk about myself.”

Virgil scoffed, hating himself more and more every minute. “Yeah, sure.”

“Well, what am I supposed to talk about?” Roman demanded, too loud, too close to genuine anger. “You? All you do is sulk and mope around and make me miserable!”

Virgil winced at the harsh words, falling silent and watching warily as Roman paced. He knew Roman could have a temper sometimes, knew his rants were mostly just for the sake of dramatics.

But...well, he did have every right to be truly upset this time.

“I mean seriously!” The prince continued. “Forgive me for actually being excited about an idea! I just wanted to make a video about being in love, but I should have realized you would just ruin it!”

The words were met with heavy silence, Virgil’s throat suddenly too tight to form a reply, Roman’s anger sitting heavy on his chest.

The Prince sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t look any less unhappy. “I shouldn’t...ignore that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He wondered if Roman meant Virgil ruining things, or that he was in love with him. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Roman quickly answered his question. “Yeah, this...this isn’t gonna work, is it?”

The panic building up was suddenly replaced with sickening, ice cold fear.

Roman...Roman didn’t mean…?

“I don’t know why I thought this could be a good idea,” the Prince said. “Not when you can’t stop arguing with me for two seconds.”

Oh, god. Oh god, he was. “Wait, Ro--”

“What?” Roman snapped, turning on him all at once, gaze intense and expectant. “What, Virgil? What is it?”

Virgil flinched, frantically trying to think of a response, for any way to repair the damage he’d done today.

But...but if Roman didn’t think the two of them could work, if he’d realized how much better he deserved...wouldn’t he just get more upset if Virgil selfishly tried to get him to stay?

He wanted them to work. More than anything. For a while, he’d really thought they could.

But if Roman ended it now, if he left Virgil alone (After all, Virgil deserved to be alone, didn’t he?) it would break him. Virgil didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

He opened his mouth to say as much, not sure how to stop himself, wanting to beg and plead Roman to forgive him, to give him one more chance.

But the panic and nausea were making it impossible to force any words out, that dark, awful voice in his head screaming that he didn’t deserve to ask Roman to stay.

And Roman apparently took that as an answer, shoulders dropping as he scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not even gonna bother.”

“Roman...that’s not…”

“No, it’s fine!” The words were cold and biting. “Seriously, all good! See? You got your way. Again. It’s done. It’s over. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Over. Over, it was...god no, no no Roman was going to leave. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t.

“Roman, I- I didn’t want—“

“Whatever, Virgil.” Roman scooped up the camera before stalking over to the door and holding it open. “If you don’t mind? I’d like to be alone so I can continue bragging about myself. I’m sure you’re ecstatic to get away from all that.”

“Roman...Ro, please, I didn’t mean—“

“Get out, Virgil.”

Virgil felt numb. Slowly, unable to look up and see Roman’s face twisted in hatred, he pushed himself away from the table they’d stationed themselves at, and stepped away, everything achingly silent except for Prince’s heavy breathing.

Virgil didn’t even bother walking to the door, not even sure he could stay upright that long. He just sunk out, and as the floor disappeared under him, he wondered if he would ever be welcomed back in Roman’s room.

His own bedroom was frigid, dark, and empty, and Virgil almost felt like he was being sent to a prison cell with how gloomy it looked.

It suited him, he supposed. Dark and brooding and...and alone.

Had...had he and Roman just…

“This isn’t going to work, isn’t it?”

They hadn’t fought like that in months. It had stopped some time before they’d gotten together, but today it was like all their progress had been undone.

Virgil had done that. Virgil had single handedly ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. All because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

Roman finally realized Virgil had never changed. That Virgil would only bring him down, make him miserable.

And so he’d left him.

“I don’t know why I thought this could be a good idea!”

Virgil couldn’t move from where he stood in the middle of his room, everything far away and cold. He felt himself sink to the floor, felt the first few tears slip down his face before he began to sob.

Everything was falling apart. The world was crashing down around him, his own crying, loud, obnoxious, pathetic wails that bounced across his walls piercing to his own ears, bile rising up in his throat.

Roman was right. Virgil ruined everything. No wonder he made Creativity so miserable.

Virgil decided he’d actually rather leap out a window than join the others for dinner that night. He wasn’t even sure he could if he wanted to.

He hadn’t moved from the floor for what had to be a couple of hours at least, shaking and sobbing and viciously tearing his nails through the carpet.

By the time he’d cried himself out, he’d been far too exhausted to even consider moving, curled up on his side staring blankly at the light from the bottom of the door.

Patton had knocked some time later, cheerfully informing the anxious side that dinner was ready. It was only after a few moments of silence, when Patton’s voice grew worried and his knocking turned almost frantic, that Virgil forced himself to speak and claim he wasn’t hungry.

“You feeling ok?” Patton had asked, gentle and caring as ever. “Do you want me to bring you something? I can send Roman to--”

“No, Patton.” He hadn’t meant to snap, his disgust with himself only growing to an unbearable ache, but even just the Prince’s name threatened to bring a fresh wave of sobs to the surface. “I- I’m fine, Pat.”

Patton had mercifully left him alone after that, not prying after the wobble in his voice but promising to leave a plate in the fridge for whenever he wanted.

Virgil wondered how Roman was doing. If he even missed him at all. It was doubtful, he’d made a decision but...what they’d had was good. It had been. At least while it lasted.

They’d only been together a little over a month, but Virgil honestly wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do without Roman now.

He loved him. He loved him so much. He hadn’t really been able to convince himself he could deserve happiness like this until Roman proved otherwise, literally scooping him off his feet and showing him just how wrong he was.

And he’d let him think that maybe...maybe he was helping Roman too. Maybe slowly, they could both bring out the best in each other.

And Virgil had managed to undo all of that in one day. All because he couldn’t suck it up and keep his stupid mouth shut for one minute.

Eventually, when the sky darkened and the mindscape was quiet, Virgil dragged himself off the floor, changed into sweats, pulled his hood over his head, and crawled into bed.

It felt cold and empty without Roman’s arms around him.

Virgil buried himself in the blankets, hugging his pillow close to his chest, not bothering to try and stop his crying. He deserved to be miserable, didn’t he? He’d certainly put everyone else through enough misery for a lifetime.

He wondered if Roman would even talk to him after tonight, or if the Prince would just shut Virgil’s existence out completely.

Maybe things would go back to how they used to be, the two of them practically enemies, Roman treating Anxiety like the villain he’d always known he was.

In the end, Virgil supposed it didn’t really matter how he was treated now. He’d lose Roman either way.

He’d felt heartbreak through Thomas, of course, more than once. But this...this was so much different. So much worse.

It was heavy, a weight sitting on his chest, restraining him, keeping him pinned down until he couldn’t breathe. And it hurt. It hurt worse than anything he’d ever known.

Coupled with the panic that hadn’t gone away, Virgil was left a crying, trembling mess in his bed.

He stayed like that until what had to be nearly one in the morning, unable to fall asleep, the hours passing by in meaningless blurs, breath catching when he heard the doorknob turn.

Virgil went very still, careful to keep his ragged breathing quiet and shallow, hoping that whoever it was would just hurry up and go away.

He didn’t have the energy to explain to Patton or Logan what had happened. He didn’t think he knew how to say it aloud.

“I know you’re awake, Virgil.”

That was Roman’s voice, the Prince standing in the dark entryway, and Virgil felt blinding panic reach up and seize his heart.

“Come on,” Roman said, and while he didn’t sound as angry as he had that afternoon, he certainly didn’t sound happy. “Are you going to keep pouting or can we talk?”

Virgil didn’t answer, didn’t move from where he lay with his face against the pillow, but he listened as Roman sighed and slowly made his way over to the bed.

What more could Roman possibly have to say?

Virgil kept his eyes shut, refusing to cause Roman any guilt by breaking down in front of him. He felt the mattress dip as the Prince lowered himself on the edge of the bed.

“Look--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said before Roman could finish. “I...I’m sorry. For ruining it.”

It was followed by a string of heavy silence that stretched on an unbearably long time, and Virgil could practically feel Roman’s eyes on him.

“Don’t be,” Roman said eventually. “And you didn’t. I didn’t mean to...it was gonna end that way eventually, right?”

Virgil froze, remembering the yelling, the awful fight he’d caused that had pushed Roman to his breaking point.

Roman had just...expected that?

“It...it was?”

“I mean, probably,” Roman said, with an air of nonchalance that hurt worse than any amount of shouting could. “And it’s not a big deal that it didn’t work. It was just...a silly idea. Totally impulsive on my part.”

Virgil huffed a laugh, the sound dangerously close to turning into a sob.

“Yeah,”  he said, because that was true at least. He loved Roman more than anything, but he still couldn’t comprehend what could have possessed Roman to show an interest in him. “It...it wasn’t silly to me.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Roman scoffed, and Virgil winced. Prince must have noticed, because he quickly continued. “Look, I’m...I’m sorry I yelled. I think we both got a little worked up.”

It was Virgil’s fault. He’d ruined it. He deserved to be alone.

“Ok.”

“Seriously, Virge. It’s not a big deal. Can’t we just...move on?”

He hated this. He hated this. Acting like they could just go back to being acquaintances, like nothing had ever happened between them, like breaking Virgil’s heart didn’t even matter.

He didn’t answer, digging his nails into his palms in a vain attempt at forcing back rising tears, praying that Roman would hurry up and leave him alone.

There was a hand on his shoulder, the touch achingly familiar, and Virgil jerked away with a panicked gasp.

“Don’t.”

“Virge—”

“Roman, please.” He struggled to sit up, the hurt only worsening at the confused exasperation he’d heard in Roman’s voice. “I can’t do that, I can’t...I don’t know how to just pretend...fuck, Roman I don’t know what to do without you!”

God, he was pathetic. Roman had finally opened his eyes and decided he deserved better, and here Virgil was, useless as always, unable to let go.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he choked out, vision blurred by new tears, the guilt and disgust suffocating. “Please, Ro, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry f- for- for fucking up, I’m sorry just- just please give me another chance I can- I’ll--”

He cut off with a broken sob as Roman’s hands were suddenly on his face, cupping both his cheeks and forcing him to look the Prince in the eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He was frantically searching Virgil’s watering eyes, horrified realization dawning. “Did you think I meant...Virgil have you been laying here all night thinking I broke up with you?”

Virgil’s breathing was quickly turning to ragged gasps as he desperately tried to muffle his crying, face burning in frustrated shame when the tears just continued to fall. There was absolutely no way for him to hold back another sob when Roman began wiping them away with his thumbs, looking strangely pained.

“Y-you s-said...you said i-it wouldn’t- w-wouldn’t work, y-you...you said--”

“Oh, darling no.”

Roman’s arms were suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Virgil didn’t think twice before falling against his chest, clutching desperately at the Prince’s shirt and wailing.

It all came spilling out again at the feeling of Roman’s arms around him, holding him like he’d protect the anxious side with his life. It was everything Virgil had grown accustomed to these last weeks. Everything he didn’t want to lose.

“It’s alright,” Roman said softly, holding Virgil tight as he cried. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry, Virgil, I’m so sorry. It was just an argument, darling, don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

“Y-you- you said you knew,” Virgil sobbed, anguished cries muffled against Roman’s chest. “You knew it w-would end, you- you s-said it was over I-I thought--”

“Oh no, darling I wasn’t talking about us. I was talking about the video, Virgil. I was angry about the stupid video. It was just a fight, V. I’m so sorry for saying those things.”

Roman kept talking, rocking them both gently where they sat on Virgil’s bed, rubbing circles along the anxious side’s back. He would tighten his protective hold each time Virgil’s cries would grow loud again, devastated bawling that wouldn’t stop even with Roman’s reassurances.

But eventually the sobbing faded, leaving Virgil hiccuping and gasping for air, panic and sorrow fading and making way for utter exhaustion and hopeful relief as Roman’s words set in.

“I...I don’t want to be in here,” he said, as soon as he found his voice. “Can we--?”

“Of course.”

Roman was immediately sinking out, Virgil still held carefully in his arms, the two of them reappearing in the middle of Prince’s unmade bed in seconds. It seemed like neither of them had been able to sleep.

Roman guided them both backwards until they were laying down, still chest to chest, one hand reaching back to pull the covers up and over them. Virgil let out one more trembling breath, taking a moment to lay against Prince’s now tear soaked shirt, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in Roman’s scent, taking in his arms around him, his steady breathing in his ear.  

“So,” Virgil said after a moment, quiet and hesitant. “Just to, um, clarify. You’re not...you aren’t breaking up with me?”

Roman pulled back from where he’d had his nose pressed against Virgil’s hair, just enough so he could crane his neck to get a better look at the other side, eyes wide and filled with his own, unshed tears.

“No,” he insisted, almost desperate. “No, darling never. I never want to leave you, Virgil. I promise. You’re stuck with me.”

Virgil huffed, glancing up to give Roman a timid smile. “I’m not gonna hold you to that promise. I get it. I’m...a lot. Clearly.”

Roman leaned forward to press a kiss into Virgil’s hair. “You’re a lot of things like perfect, and beautiful, and magnificent--!”

“Oh my god.” Virgil’s cheeks were on fire, despite it just being the two of them in the dimly lit room, and he quickly buried his face back into the Prince’s shirt.

“And,” Roman continued, a bit softer. “I’m very sorry for raising my voice at you. I didn’t even realize, I...I overreacted. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m pretty sure I yelled first, Princey,” Virgil said. “I was an ass. And I didn’t mean it, either. The video...wasn't stupid. It was just...I was stressed and I freaked out. Bad day, I guess.”

Roman moved one hand to start running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp, and Virgil’s eyelids fluttered at the blissful feeling. “What’s bothering you, Love?”

Dammit. Roman really knew how to break down his defenses.

“I- I guess the idea of making...us public is...it just stresses me out sometimes. I’ve known you wanted to for a while and I’ve been stupidly anxious about it. I should have told you.”

Roman was silent a moment, never stilling the movement of his fingers, and Virgil could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“You...you know I’d never force you to do that video, right? Whether you needed more time, or you never wanted to do it at all, I wouldn’t have been upset with you.”

Roman was always unbelievably patient with him. He had a temper sometimes, they both did, but he was more than willing to take things as slow as Virgil needed. Anything to make him comfortable.

With Roman, Virgil had never felt more safe in his life. Feeling pressured hadn’t been the issue at all.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Can I...ask why it upsets you so much?”

“I just…” And really, what else was there to say but the blatant truth? “I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That you like me. Out of anyone.”

The hand in his hair slowed, just for a moment, and he could almost picture Princey’s puzzled expression. “I’m...not following.”

“You deserve the world, Roman,” Virgil said. “And I want to give that to you because...because I- I love you. And I just get it into my head that if people find out we’re together...they’ll see how much better you deserve. Because you should have everything and you...you got me. And I know you’re ok with that, but I just worry that if enough people tell you to leave you’ll realize you--”

He was abruptly cut off by Roman’s lips over his own, the Prince suddenly on top of him with one hand still behind Virgil’s head, the other tilting his chin upwards.

Obviously they’d kissed countless times before, but to Virgil each time felt like the first all over again. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this feeling, fiery warmth that spread through his body, the way he practically came undone when Roman brushed his lips, everything perfectly at peace when they fit together.

Roman pulled away, cheeks flushed as he looked down at Virgil’s equally red face, their noses almost touching.

“I love you.”

It was said suddenly, with so much force and desperation, and Virgil blinked, momentarily caught completely off guard. “I- thank you? I love you too, but--”

He stopped when Roman was suddenly pressing a kiss to his forehead, pulling away a few seconds later with another hushed “I love you.”

“Roman--”

Roman kept going like that, pressing meaningful, gentle kisses to almost every inch of Virgil’s face, cradling his jaw like something delicate. With each kiss Prince would whisper another soft, “I love you,” just loud enough for Virgil to hear.

When he was done he didn’t go far, warm hands still delicately framing Virgil’s face, looking down at him with what could only be described as awe.

“God, I love you,” Roman said again, and Virgil was almost positive his face was the color of the Prince's sash by now. “Virgil, I’m happier than I’ve ever been when I’m with you. You know that, right?”

“I...I guess, but--”

Roman pressed another quick kiss to his lips, and he clearly wasn’t expecting a back and forth discussion seeing as Virgil was far too flustered to form coherent answers.

“I’m supposed to be the sappy one, you know,” Roman said when he pulled away with a smirk, the smile quickly dropping into something more serious. “You are my world, darling. I do have everything. Because I have you. I wouldn’t give this up for anything, and a stupid comment from a jealous idiot who has no idea how beautiful you are won’t ever change that. Do you understand?”

For a moment, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak, the words getting jumbled and caught up in his tightening throat. Roman’s voice was swirling around his head, forcing the dark anxious thoughts to finally retreat, replaced only with overwhelming love and lighthearted giddiness.

It was a wonder Virgil had any tears left to cry, but suddenly his vision was blurring and Roman’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I just...I- I thought--”

It was Virgil’s turn to cut Roman off with a kiss, this one a bit more sloppy and desperate as he grabbed Roman’s collar and dragged him back down, but he savored the feeling all the same.

When it was over, Roman was watching him with wide eyes, brimming with hope and worry, and Virgil found himself smiling.

“You dork,” he muttered, and Roman instantly relaxed. “I’m not...good at this like you are but...me too. All of that. You...you’re perfect, Roman. I don’t know what I did right to deserve you.”

“You think I don’t wonder how I got lucky enough for you to love me?” Roman asked, smiling when Virgil carefully reached up to wipe away the Prince’s own tears. “I’m not letting go of this, Stormcloud. Unless...unless you ever change your mind.”

Virgil moved to wrap his arms around Roman, guiding him back down until he was laid against his chest, the Prince’s head rested comfortably on his shoulder, the weight warm and grounding.

“Not a chance, Princey,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment just to listen to Roman’s breathing. “We can film the video.”

He felt Roman freeze, just for a second. “I- really?”

“Yeah.” Somehow, the idea wasn’t quite as terrifying as it had been before. “Just...maybe in a few days, if that’s ok.”

“Of course!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil could hear the excitement in his voice. “We can do it whenever you’re ready.”

“Maybe we could...plan it out a bit more tomorrow. Work on a more concrete script.”

“Good idea,” Roman agreed. Reaching over to take Virgil’s hand. “I suppose I got a little carried away in my excitement. I shouldn’t have dragged you into a video like that...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole about it,” Virgil said. “I should have just talked to you. I’m still not...great at telling people when somethings bothering me.”

“Your comfort is my top priority. Always. Never be afraid to tell me these things, Virgil. How else am I supposed to protect you?”

Virgil scoffed, this time light and good natured, and Roman chuckled along with him. “Protecting you is my job, Ro. But...but I will. I promise.”

“I know it’s not easy,” Roman said. “And it’s not your fault, I’m not angry. All I ask is that you try. I’m always going to be here.”

Roman had said that before, of course, he knew where Virgil’s fears and insecurities stemmed from.

But now, the two of them wrapped in each other's arms, it was the first time Virgil had ever been able to believe the words without hesitation, the doubts completely silent.

He listened to Roman’s breaths slow and even out, felt him relax completely against Virgil’s chest, the anxious side still wide awake despite his exhaustion.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered when he was fairly certain Roman had fallen asleep. “So, so much. I wish I was better at saying it.”

Roman said nothing, but Virgil felt him squeeze his hand and run his thumb along his knuckles, a silent communication somehow letting Virgil know that it was ok, that they were both learning.

Virgil smiled and closed his eyes, completely at ease in the Prince’s hold. And he realized, just before he succumbed to sleep, that a small part of him was actually looking forward to that video.

Honestly, how could he not if it meant he would see Roman smile at him?

[simpingovernonexistentmen]

Family Meeting Pt 1

Plot: Katsuki feels it’s time to meet families. Little does he know his omega isn’t so keen on the idea.

Genre: A/B/O, Omegaverse, Fluff, BNHA, Alpha Bakugo, Fem Omega Reader

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and, you were happily surrounded by your Alpha's scent. Sitting on the couch with Katsuki watching a documentary on almight's pasts battles. You've been dating Katsuki for half a year now. Finding yourself falling for him more and, more everyday. Everything was perfect. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head against his chest letting out a sigh of contentment. Katsuki chest rumbled in response to his omega's happiness, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you as close to him as possible, leaving a small gentle kiss on the top of your head. Yes everything was perfect.

"I think it's time we've met parents." He said breaking the silence.

You felt yourself freeze. Yes everything was perfect until right at this moment. Can we rewind back to 10 seconds ago and, just live in that time space for all eternity that would be great. You tilted your head up to gaze at his ruby eyes.

"Parents?" You squeaked out.

He frowned at your timid reply. Was it even a question? You've both have been with each other long enough to be considered serious. His mother had been nagging at him to bring you over to introduce you as his new partner to the family. He felt he had given it enough time to do this so, why did his omega seem so reluctant.

"What's wrong?" He asked giving you a long stare. You felt as if he was trying to piece a puzzle together with your soul.

"You don't think it's too soon?" You smiled up nervously, you already knew your scent starting to change into a slight bitter scent and, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

His stare hardened looking at you suspiciously. "No I don't, i think we've been together long enough to meet each other's families."

You sighed placing you face into the crook of his neck, refusing to stare at his soul searching eyes any longer. "Can we delay meeting my family for a bit?" You stated with a small voice. You felt him stiffen from under you.

"Y/N does your family not know about us?"

Fuck the one question you wanted to avoid entirely. The air around you started to contort into bitter burnt smell, nothing like his comforting firewood scent. This isn't how you wanted this conversation to play out. You didn't have a bad relationship with your family, no that was far from truth in fact it was the opposite. They loved you too much. Over protective was an understatement, every time you got into a relationship your family would find some way to drive them off. The same response would be given every time if they were really meant for you this wouldn't drive them away. No shame at all! You family consisted of two brothers and, of course both of your parents. Your mother is an omega like you while, all the males in your family were alphas.

Usually omegas were categorized in two slots a nuisance or, a blessing. The way society's view things is ridiculous but, that didn't mean you were ungrateful for your fortunate circumstance. You loved you family and they loved you but, being an omega, an only girl and, the youngest of every one did not help at all!!!

"Are you ashamed of me omega?" The anger in your alpha's tone brought you out of your thoughts. You quickly straddled his hips grabbing his face in your hands.

"Never" You stated with finality. Your eyes soften while, staring at his ruby eyes. You let out a comforting scent cooing at your alpha. "I would never be ashamed of you, it's just my family is a little much." You sighed looking down at him, "I just don’t want them to ruin what we have."

His chest rumbled at your answer, he leaned against you rubbing his face against your sweat gland. Katsuki wrapped his arms around your waist locking you in place. You began to run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, he hummed in response. He placed soft butterfly kisses against your neck.

"There is nothing they can do to ruin anything, our relationship isn’t so fragile to be easily broken"

Your heart swelled with joy at his words. You purred happily pulling back to kiss his lips. You smiled  brightly at him. "Ok let's meet the family then."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days have past and, you were FREAKING OUT! That same day you called your family with your alpha present letting them know about your relationship with katsuki. You of course played it safe, calling your mother over everyone else. You did not need a interrogation over a phone call with your alpha beside you. Your mother being an omega herself understood your point of view. That didn't mean she agreed with your method. After arguing for a bit with some pleading she conceded deciding it was best to let them know the day before your alpha and, you arrived. Rather than to blindside them completely.

Now here you were sitting in the passenger side of Katsuki's car in a light baby blue dress that fell just above your knees with some pale blue ankle strap heels to match. You always dressed up when you were nervous, it was a habit. This was your battle armor, your hero suit, you have self confidence sure but, it helped boost it just a little with dressing up. Your hair was perfect, your outfit matched, you had just the right amount of jewelry on, and a light amount of make up. You always tried to make it as natural as possible. The drive was a long one, which didn’t help the bad thought of everything exploding in your face go away.

Seeing you in distress was placing katsuki in a protective mood. He reached over interlacing your fingers with his, squeezing slightly to reassure you he was not going anywhere. He let out a comforting scent to calm his anxious omega. He gave a small smile when, he noticed your shoulders loosen up with your fingers relaxing in his hand. You gave a small squeeze back smiling up at him.

That's right everything will be fine. Everything will go smoothly. The second the thought passed your mind Katsuki hit the brakes making you lurch forward causing the seat belt to dig into your chest. You let out a distressed chirp at the sudden stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you came face to face with a very pissed off looking alpha, which so happened to be your brother. He stood a couple of feet away from the front of the vehicle staring angrily at Katsuki. For the love of-!!? Do you have a special hate for my positive thoughts that you have to shit all over it or, do you think its funny universe. You cursed to yourself in your mind.

Katsuki growled removing his hand from yours, unbuckling his seat belt. No no no no no! You haven't even gotten out of the car or, even made it to the house yet! Why?! Dear god why, is your brother starting a fight already! Before you got the chance to do anything Katsuki was already out of the car.

"Oi! What's your problem you fucking idiot!" Katsuki yelled out at your brother. You flinched...ahh goodbye romance. Marriage? Kids? Love life? What's that?

"You’re my fucking problem! You think you can just show up here with my little sister and, not get your teeth knocked in?!" Your brother yelled back. He then moved his heated glare towards you. You could see the hurt and, betrayal in his eyes. You already knew what the reason was, it was the simple fact that you didn't tell him.

You already knew he wasn't mad at Katsuki, he was just poor soul that took the blunt of his anger. He was upset with you. You’ve always been close with your brother. B/N was the middle child of your family, you were as thick as thieves, you always told him everything even about who you were dating but, this time you didn't. The overwhelming fear of your family not accepting Katsuki stopped you from telling him. Yes, B/N would jump on the band wagon of terrorizing your partners but, you always told him first before anyone.

"You must have some big balls to say that shit to me" Kasuki smiled but, you already knew what that smile was and, there was nothing pleasant about it.

You quickly unbuckled yourself getting out of the car "Wait! Wait! Wait! B/N please listen" You went to your brother's side pumping out your scent to calm your brother's inner alpha. You grabbed ahold of his arm pressing it against your chest. You suppressed the small chirp that wanted to come out due to the pain but, pushed through it. You didn't realize how hard the seat belt pulled against your chest until now.

"Oi Y/N, what's wrong?" Katsuki was instantly by your side checking on you. Meanwhile your brother was uncharacteristically quiet, now also glancing you over. You looked up at your alpha giving him a smile. You knew better than you lie to him.

"The seat belt hit a little too hard against my chest. I think i'm just a bit sore"

"I'm sorry" You heard your brother give a small apology with a sadden tone.

"We'll just call it even" You smiled.

"I don't" Katsuki glared down at your brother. "I don't care if you are her brother. That shit you pulled isn't ok. Grit your teeth" He growled out, the bitter burnt scent filled the air. He was pissed.

Katsuki grabbed your shoulder tugging you lightly to pull you away from your brother. Before you could even say word of protest out; Katsuki pulled his arm back, swinging his fist forward connecting to your brother’s cheek. Your brother was immediately knocked on his ass, his body meeting the asphalt. You gasped running over to your brother.

“Oh my gosh! B/N are you ok?!” You got onto your knees checking over him. Your brother let out a small groan, rubbing his cheek.

You turned glaring at your alpha, “Katsuki! What the hell!? I said, it was fine. It not like i was majorly hurt!”

Katsuki frowned crossing his arms, you knew he wasn’t budging from this. “It’s not alright and, he knows it.” He growled out. Katsuki’s ruby eyes never left your brother’s view.”I don’t give a fuck how angry you are at someone, it is never ok to hurt someone you love.”

“No one could have guessed this would happen!” You argued

Your alpha then moved his beautiful ruby eyes at you, “He forced us to stop the car causing you to get hurt. He needs to own up to the consequences of his actions weather it was intentional or not.Your safety is never up for debate.” He stated firmly with no room for further discussion.

“Y/N it’s fine. He is right.” Your brother stood up, bringing you up with him. “Which is why i didn’t move when, i saw what he was going to do.”

Your alpha grunted a acknowledgment at your brother. Katsuki went over to you bringing your body to his chest.

“Are you in pain?” He whispered in your ear while, rubbing your back gently. You felt your body relax into him with just his scent filling your senses.

You sighed in his touch, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Nothing a ice pack can’t fix” God, you loved your alpha.

You heard your brother clear his throat. You looked over at your brother refusing to relinquish your comfortable spot.

“Let’s get home so we can both get a ice pack. Your boyfriend packs a punch.” He whined. The anger he once held was gone and, was now replaced with a look of peace or, relief...maybe both.

You pulled back slightly to look up at your alpha. “Do you still want to meet the rest of my family?”

Your alpha smirked at you, “I don’t back down on something, I've started.” Of course he wouldn’t. Katsuki pulled away from you to start heading back to the car. Until you brother called out to you both.

“Hey isn’t that Ground Zero’s Insignia on the hood of your car?” You looked over to see your alpha’s hero symbol on hood of his car.

You smiled brightly at your brother “Yup, Katsuki is our all star pro hero. Which as you can see, he is none other than Ground Zero himself.” You turned away from your brother getting into the car.

“..holy hell...wait till everyone finds out about this” Your brother stated with a shocked expression.

I feel like it was a bit rushed. OH WELL! Part 2 of Family Meeting will come out soon. Of course it will be about Reader meeting the Bakugo Family. I hope you enjoyed this! Like Share Comment :D