#violent dreams and nightmares that both god and man wish they could study under a microscope

[anotheranimestan]

hi! I just read “all bark no bite” and omg it was so good!! looking forward to more of your writing and possible a part 2 if you get the chance!

Thank you!!!!!😃🧡 Your wish is my command!

All Bark No Bite (pt. 2)

Bakugo angst + sexual tensionnnn

Read part 1 here

wc: 3k

I hope this is as fun for you to read as it is for me to write! Also why is he 👇 this fineee for no reason.

The next morning, you woke up trying to convince yourself it was all a dream...or a nightmare. But the way you could still feel the softness of his fingers around your neck completely contradicted your wishes. You also had to keep wiping little smiles off your face throughout your entire morning routine. You tried to combat them by listing all the things you hated about Bakugo but it was helpless. Every train of thought ended with the shape of his lips and how nicely they molded with yours.

You and Mina walked to class together and you swore she’d developed a mind reading quirk. You felt her eyes on you like a blazing sun. Although this was really all in your head. She only asked “are you okay?” because you kept looking at her like you’d committed a hate crime.

You and Bakugo didn’t look at each other once during class. No leg shaking, pen stealing or insults. Not even a well timed scoff when you were called on to answer a question. You tried your best to clear your mind and forget everything that had occurred in that hall last night. After a while of this torture you even were having a little bit of success.

But of course your peace was ruined as you walked to lunch. He couldn’t let you have anything. And of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone.

��Hey Little Bite, I hear we get to pick our groups for combat training today. All Might is going to make me a team captain, obviously. So if you want to be on my team let me know. I mean I assume you don’t wanna lose. You just gotta ask me nicely.” His usual cocky tone crept under your skin.

You desperately tried to ignore him as he followed you. Each footstep he started gaining on you being more annoying than the last. But what really did it was the pencil he threw at your head.

“Please, actively do not pick me.”

He ignored your objection and continued on his line of bullshit.

“I suppose I could take you. Your quirk would be useless, I’m all the attack power we’d need to win but I could use you as a decoy or something.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to be on a team with you, moron. Your pea brain doesn’t know how to do anything but blow shit up. You’re like an explosive cave man. Besides being too close to you for too long makes me wanna vomit.”

He cackled. You knew exactly what he was thinking and immediately regretted your words.

“That’s weird—“

You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at his head. But he just caught it and made it explode with a smug look on his face.

“Ugh. I cannot stand you.” You groaned.

“You sure about that?” He said with a suggestive eyebrow.

He was so hot....it made you want to punch him in the throat. Without thinking you shrugged off your backpack and swung it at his face. His reflexes bested you again though and he caught the bag, yanking it from you. The force was harder than you expected, it sent you flying into his chest. You both tumbled to the ground and landed shoulder to shoulder. Your skull hit a small rock with a wack. Rubbing the back of your head, shooting pain surfaced.

“Ow!! That fucking hurt dumbass!”

“Sor—“

You swung your arm, aiming to kill, and hit him in the stomach.

It must have really knocked the wind out of him because he made a loud grunting noise that hinted at his surprise. It wasn’t often people got to land a punch on Katsuki Bakugo. King Explosion Murder.

“Do that shit again Little Bite! You’ll regret it!” He grabbed your wrist, attempting to clear a way to get you back. You both started wresting trying to punch each other in the gut. Literally rolling around in the grass in a red hot death match of who could out curse the other.

“Omg, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Mina teased from out of absolutely nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

You both froze solid as the blood drained from your face. She knew about last night? How did she find out?!

“You told her!?” Bakugo’s entire face was contorting through a whole range of emotions. Shock, horror, embarrassment, accusation, cheekiness, embarrassment again.

“What!?” You panicked. “No! I didn’t!” You swear you didn’t. You replayed your whole morning in your head just to double check.

You turned to your pink friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. You watched the gears turn in her head as she realized she’d stumbled upon a miraculously juicy discovery.

“OH. MY. GOD!!! No freaking way!!” She squealed unable to contain herself.

She started blabbering as she attempted to cope with this information. She had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

Your stomach fell as you realized this fatal error. Wait....this wasn’t your error. You pushed him off you and you both scrambled to your feet.

“This is your fault! Why’d you say that!” You shoved a finger in Bakugo’s chest. Which actually hurt because....he’s solid.

“Don’t yell at me!” He yelled back at an even louder volume.

Mina started running around in little circles. “They kissed!!!” She then abruptly stopped in her tracks and you watched a lightbulb flicker on.

No.....

“KIRISHIMA!!!! KAMINARI!!!” She screamed as she ran toward the cafeteria.

“MINA DONT YOU FUCKING DA—“ Bakugo exploded into a full sprint to chase her down. But she was like a rocket.

You chased after them desperately trying to reconcile all this is your mind. But it was no use, your brain was melting. Everyone was about to find out. The relentless jokes...they would never end. You could die right here.

Both of them ran so fast you fell horribly behind. By the time you rounded the corner and caught up to them a whole event had already taken place.

Bakugo was screaming on the top of his lungs. You could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head.

Kaminari was standing there in his stupid form with a half torn shirt. Jesus, what did Bakugo do to him?

Mina and Kirishima were laying on the ground, their face covered in tears. They were laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out.

“Oh my god,” Mina squeaked out between gasps for air, “Bakugo has a crush.”

“It’s so adorable!” Kirishima said wiping the tears from his eyes as he attempted to stop laughing. With no success, they both bursted again after seeing Bakugo slamming his fists into the grass. The teasing was making him want to rip his eyes out. He couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up Kirishima!!!” He jumped on top of his friend and started repeatedly banging his head into the ground. Of course this did absolutely nothing to the hard head. It just made him laugh even more.

Poor Denki just stood there drooling with a little smile on his face and giggling.

You were frozen. Stunned. It was like watching a comedy movie in which you were the punchline.

But all the laughs fell a silent as a furious voice cut through the air.

“What is this.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and this used up his last bit of patience.

“Bakugo. Get off him immediately.” He growled.

You knew how this looked. Bakugo was attacking Kirishima after successfully making Kaminari fry his own brain. Your friends’ laughter wasn’t enough to hide Bakugo’s apparent violence even if it was over something as stupid as a kiss. Mr. Aizawa couldn’t possibly know that.

“I overlooked your behavior yesterday, picking a fight with Miss. y/n. But now attacking your other classmates as well? This is violent behavior is unacceptable.”

“Mr. Aizawa—“ Kirishima tried to defend his friend but it was no use.

“Not another word.” Your teacher was glaring at Bakugo with laser beams.

The hot head just stood there in silence with a scowl on his face and two tightly clenched fists. He was really just going to take the heat for everyone? No arguments?

“I’m putting you on house arrest for the rest of the day. No more classes and no combat training.” You watched the dagger go through Bakugo’s chest. Today was going to be offensive training with All Might. You knew he was looking forward to it. Guilt punched your core.

“Mr. Aizawa wait. I’m the one who picked a fight with him yesterday. I challenged him. He shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.” You shuffled toward him timidly. He was scary when he was like this.

Everyone looked at you in surprise. They all knew it was true, that you’d egged him on. And he wouldn’t be raging right now if you hadn’t kissed, so today was also partially your fault. But they were truly surprised because you normally would revel in Bakugo getting scolded. But you weren’t fucking evil. And this wasn’t Bakugo’s fault at all...although he really needed to get his fucking temper in check. Idiot.

“Is that true?” Aizawa asked Bakugo.

The hot head took a deep breath. “Does that sound like me at all? I’d never give into her weak attempts at baiting me. I fought her because I wanted to.”

Your eyes popped out at his words. He lied. Why the fuck would he do that?

Mr. Aizawa escorted Bakugo to the dorms, lecturing the entire way.

“This sucks.” Kirishima said with a frown.

“I know. I feel so bad!” Mina cried sadly.

You had no words. The four of you walked to lunch with drooping heads. You held Kaminari’s hand the whole way until his brain recharged.

Recalling you’d left your backpack in the quad you ran back to get it. Upon arrival you realized Bakugo’s backpack was also there. He wouldn’t even have his stuff with him to finish homework or study during house arrest. You groaned. This guilt was horrible. It ate at you for rest of the day. The rest of your friends didn’t feel any better. And combat training wasn’t the same for you without that familiar sound of explosions going off in the background. It actually made the class feel kind of empty.

As usual at the end of the day you sat in the common area with the rest of the girls.

“So...is it true y/n?” Ochaco poked hesitantly.

You glared at Mina. Loose lips as usual.

“Sorry y/n. I talk when I’m stressed.” Mina cried only kind of regretful.

You sighed. You didn’t have the heart to actually be upset with her. You were the villain here. Getting Bakugo into so much trouble.

“Yea.” You huffed out. Talking about it made you cringe. It was like admitting your sworn rival had defeated you somehow. Even if you sort of didn’t mind the way he did it...

“What was it like?” Mina asked excited for the details.

“Is he a good kisser?” Ochaco added.

Your mind fell into a fog as you replayed the kiss again. Your skin went electric as you remembered the feel of his hands on your waist and those noises he was making. His lips wrapped around yours....

“Oh my god...Ochaco shes in love!” Mina concluded from you zoning out for what ended being like 15 seconds of you staring into space with a little smile on your face. She was practically singing.

“I am not!” You yelled flustered.

“Why are so many people yelling today?” Kirishima chuckled as he rounded the corner to join the couch.

“So is he mad?” Mina’s voice had changed into the sad one from earlier.

“I don’t know. Every time I knock he just tells me to go away. But that’s not that different from normal honestly.” He smiled. Their friendship was so odd.

Suddenly his backpack flashed through your mind. It was sitting in your room.

You got up to leave. You tried to be sneaky about it as they discussed how to cheer the victim up. But to no avail, they’d never let you sneak off again.

“Where you going huh?” Mina’s voice was painfully suggestive.

“To my room!”

“Uh huh, we’ve heard that one before.”

You stuck your tongue at her.

Kirishima twisted to face you over the back of the couch. “So if I ask Bakugo tomorrow if he saw you tonight he’s gonna say no, right?” Who knew he could be this ruthless. No mercy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You’d been cornered.

“Look. He left his backpack earlier and I’m just going to give it to him! Jeez do you want to do it or something Kiri?” You were seething.

“Nahh, you should do it. He’ll just yell at me to go away again.” He winked. It made you cringe again.

You could peel your skin off from this teasing. But you know someone who hated it even more. You knew that’s why he wouldn’t let Kirishima into his room.

You ran off before they could crack any more jokes.

On your way to the elevators you heard a creepy cackle come from somewhere. You spun around, alarmed, as a “what the fuck” escaped your lips. Your eyes landed on one eyeball peeking through the crack of a doorway.

“Can I get a kiss too?” The voice was wet with drool and lust. “Just one?”

“I will kick your face in Mineta.”

The door quickly shut. Did Mina tell the fucking whole class!?

With more haste now you stormed to your room to get the stupid backpack that was causing you so many problems and made your way to your other problem’s door.

Before you knocked you realized your hands were shaking. Nervous? Seriously, over this moron? You shook it off with resolve and knocked.

“Fuck off Denki, for the hundredth fucking time I’m busy!” A gruff voice yelled from behind the door.

“Oh please, busy with what?” You retorted reflexively. Earlier you had decided you were going to try to be nicer but that sentiment wore off as soon as you heard his annoying voice.

The door swung open.

“What do you want?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

Your mind went blank. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Of course it made his biceps look better than normal. He was wearing a black t-shirt that made his skin look perfectly tanned and was snug in all the right places. And why did he always smell so good damn. Today it was like vanilla and woodsy aftershave.

Stop staring. Stop staring. Speak bitch.

“Here’s your backpack. You should keep better track of it. I had to carry it around all day. That’s annoying.” You tossed it at him.

Why couldn’t you say anything nice? He took the heat for everyone. It’s like your mouth was rebelling against you.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you should work out more weakling.”

Panic panged in your chest as he started to shut the door in your face.

“Wait—“ you stopped it with your hand.

He paused. Mild interest dawned his brow.

“Why—why did you lie?”

“What?”

“To Mr. Aizawa. You could have told him it was my fault.”

“What do you care?” He pressed. His tone always managed to infuriate you.

You spun on your heels and started to walk away. “Nevermind.”

“Because I felt bad. You hurt your stupid head.”

You’d forgotten about that with all the guilt that had been overrunning your head. It didn’t even hurt anymore. You were surprised he’d even noticed.

“Oh.”

“But obviously you’re fine now so I guess it was all for nothing.” He added quickly trying to sound indignant.

The guilt punched you again. Especially now that you were face to face with him. He didn’t even look mad. He actually looked calm. And he looked good. You tried to deny your attraction to him. But flashes of his hand on your waist started invading your mind again. You could feel him wrapped around your neck. The way he was gentle and rough at the same time.

“Instead of just standing there you could actually make yourself useful. You owe me anyways.”

You snapped out of it trying not to look flustered. You shot him a confused and slightly offended look.

“Fill me in on what I missed in class...” he explained. He wouldn’t make direct eye contact though.

“Are you saying you need my help?” You had to do it. You couldn’t not take an opportunity.

“Tch. Obviously no—“

“Let’s do it. Move.” You said as you pushed past him into his room. Your hand made full contact with his abs and you felt that heat again.

He shut the door behind you and your heart started off like a race horse as you heard him lock it.

You suspected it was to lock the other boys out. God forbid they catch you in his room after all this.

Shit....you were in his room. Alone. With your hot head. The day after he kissed you. The evening after he took all the fury of Mr. Aizawa for you and moments after he asked you to help him study even though he gets way better grades than you.

He cleared a spot for you to sit on his bed and then leaned back into his chair with his hands locked behind his head. His flexing muscles were distracting you again.

“You better actually remember everything.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him.

His words were supposed to rile you but the way he looked at you, like he was secretly loving that you were here was making your stomach flutter. You could feel your face red and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. At this rate you were going to throw yourself at him before he had the chance to kiss you again. As long as you two didn’t start fighting again first.....

~~

💥 YES there will be a pt 3!!! 💥

It’s going to be called “sTuDyiNg” HAHA (hint: Bakugo doesn’t actually wanna study “dumbass”)

Update: Pt.3 is up now!! Read it here

[alchemist-shizun]

About that Carry On Prinxiety AU

For now I laid out a bit of the plot, if you want to share some ideas just hit me up~

This is going to be a LOT to take on my shoulders but I will try and probably fail BUT TRYING IS KEYWORD (i really do believe in myself don't I? Everything under the cut!)

Since they all have their peculiarities, I'm gonna say that yes Virgil might be the Baz and Roman could be the Simon of this story, but I think either would fit for different reasons so they just have the same energy and will keep their own characterization. (If I'm able to not go ooc on this one wish me luck)

If I'm creative enough I'll try making an American school that is located in Florida, so that the characters know nothing much about what's happening in Watford and I can still make references without chronological contradictions.

Thomas could probably be the head mage too. I'm imagining him being very interested in the Normal culture and dressing like a Normal adult instead of the head of a great magical school, his "obsession" (kind of like Arthur Weasley's, if you will) is not really well-liked by most of the mages (especially the Old Fams), some believe that the students should have a better example instead of a man that always seems on the verge of leaving the magic world behind. The students, on the other hand, love him very much thank you. (yes even the ones whose parents insult him)

Oh my god I just had an epiphany: imagine Thomas obviously being in love with Disney and maybe Roman is very close to him so like he's talking about Virgil and Thomas just STRAIGHT UP STARTS SINGING SMTH LIKE THE MUSES' PARTS IN WON'T SAY IM IN LOVE OR LIKE THAT LION KING ONE AAAAAAAA and Roman is like ssss t o p but in the end joins in because he's w e a k (same)

Anyway for the main bois what I was thinking was that, with the prophecies about the Chosen One being there for a long time and them not knowing about Simon or anything, (this is becoming like Skam, there are many Snowbaz in the world) they just so happen to find in Roman an extraordinary amount of magic

Everybody is convinced Roman might be the Greatest Mage, the info flies out into the magical world of America but they decide to not share the info with other states. Roman gets very excited about this and works hard and trains himself in preparation for the big moment where he was going to have his big fight.

Virgil is his roommate (oh my god they were roommates), and of course, they can't stand each other at all. Virgil is definitely fed up with this story about the Chosen One, which Roman brings out in any possible conversation, so he uses it against him to tease him. Just imagine Roman bragging about something and Virgil being like "yeah but for a Greatest Mage you still haven't done anything so Great", or like Roman is having trouble with a spell or a subject? "Aren't you the chosen one?", Virgil only brings it up to make him mad and loves his flustered face. (keyword "loves" *wink*)

As much as I'm hopelessly in love with the idea of Vamp!Virgil (which would fit if he had Baz's role), I just had an angsty idea so I'm saving it for later c:

Hey how about a half-elf Virgil??? Anyone? Sorry I love elves

As for the time they spend together, they do the same thing as Simon and Baz, they avoid each other, spend time out of their room if the other's in there, make up different routines so they don't have to share anything and only really stay in the same room if they have to sleep. (idk why i said "if" like they don't need sleep)

Let me remind you that the beds are very close.

One time Roman woke up in the middle of the night and screamed in fear upon seeing a figure on the window.

It was just Virgil and he almost fell out, he would have probably smacked his head if it wasn't for the roommates' anathema or whatever it is called in english.

Virgil said he just couldn't sleep but he will never admit it was because of a pretty violent nightmare.

Roman does really think that he doesn't sleep at all and just uses his magic to stay awake judging by the dark circles under his eyes.

idk about you but I like the idea of Logan being something similar to Penelope, so Logan is Roman's best friend, they had met in the first year and Logan seemed one of the only ones who didn't approach Roman only because of his fame about being the Chosen One. Logan is simply amazing and brilliant at all subjects and surprises everyone since he's said to come from a family with weak powers.

Roman finds in him a very valid studying companion and he has to admit a lot of his best spells come from practicing/learning them from Logan. Also Logan loves explaining the stuff he's learnt, while Roman has this insatiable will to know everything to be able to defeat whatever bad guy will present in front of him. They basically become inseparable, despite having some friendly fights that are always solved with a snack break.

They !! deeply !! care !! for !! each other !!

Out of the other characters idk if Patton would fit anybody entirely, but I'm going to keep the 3v3 groups, so Pat will most likely be hanging out with Roman and Logan, he's actually very good friends with Virgil (none can escape Patton's friendliness) and tries to reason with Roman when he's mad about something Virge might have said. He's probably the reason why he hasn't killed Virgil yet. Patton doesn't come from a big family and lives with his grandmother when he's out of school. (I still have to develop this)

Forget about Dev and Niall and get ready for Deceit and Remus. I don't wanna give a headcanon name to Deceit bc I don't have one so he's gonna be a mysterious boy and everyone will call him Dee since it's the nickname I use for him. Both of them are two chaotic messes in their own ways. Dee, despite still being composed most of the times, is VERY fixated on his society discourses and arguments, he could come up to you one day out of the blue being like "so about the plan to overthrow the government" and you probably never even heard of it in the first place

JUST GIVE ME PASSIONATE DECEIT

Remus, on the other hand, messes a LOT with spells and you can see him traveling to the weirdest places. One day he was found trying to make the water creatures do a circus bit for him. People don't know how he's able to make his way through tests, but it's actually because he loves bugging Dee since he doesn't give the slightest shit about the weird things he suggests and they often end up studying together.

(I had the wildest thought thinking about Remus as Trixie)

Virgil, Deceit and Remus are what people call the "Untouchable trio", only because they come from the highest and oldest of the Old Families. They had been friends ever since kids since their Families met quite often, they never really fell apart despite being very different from one another. They're actually pretty chill people, it is only their surnames that make some people wary of them. They're not generally approached by anyone.

Idk if I wanna bring Emile and Remy in this, but I am tempted™, I'll think about it

So, Roman, am I right? Forgot to say he comes from a pretty big fam of hunters, they're the types of people that are lovable but won't hesitate to kill a bitch if needed.

But Purp, where's our creativitwins content? Thing is, yes they're actually brothers, but they were separated ever since kids for reasons none really knows? They never talk about it, even if asked to. They were given to two different families. They're aware of each other, but none has ever seen them interact. (I might find some angsty backstory on this just you wait)

Up until here Roman has always believed himself to be destined to the greater good, he's the chosen one, his destiny is the one to be the protagonist of the magic world and its hero.

At least that's what he thought until the fifth year.

One day during the fifth year, Virgil was doing homework on his room's table when Roman bursts in, louder than usual, and throws himself face-first on the bed, uncaring about ruining his hair or his clothes. That was an unusual sight since he never came into the room before evening or even before dinner. Virgil immediately knew something was wrong, but he didn't realize how serious the thing was.

So of course, he teases him a bit trying to get some info from him but only makes the situation worse. When Virgil calls him Greatest Mage as a joke, that's when Roman finally snaps at him in a way that Virge would have never expected. Roman really is enraged, yells at him and throws his pillow across the room since he can't hit him. He storms out of the room when he feels tears forming in his eyes, but can't really hide his sobbing as he goes away.

Virgil is just standing there, aware that he had just made Roman cry for the first time in his life and hated the sight with his whole being.

Roman had just learnt that he wasn't, in fact, the Chosen One, nor the Greatest Mage. Just an ordinary mage, like anybody else, who, in his opinion, had no other destiny than to finish school, find a job and just ... live?

So he's destroyed, all those dreams revealed themselves to be castles built in the air.

School is ending and Roman is just a bit numb, he's not really failing his classes but he's not as bright as ever. He barely leaves his room and doesn't talk to his friends as often, who are very concerned. Even Virgil tries to talk to him at some point. Thomas visits him when he has time and tries to work through the issue with him, but for the rest of the fifth year, there's nothing much to do to cheer him up.

Things seem to go back to normal as years pass and he's not in the spotlight anymore, none really talks about the Greatest Mage anymore and mages just carry on with their studies as they've always done. Everything's fine and normal.

And Roman hates it. But he's working in the shadow, so none notices his discomfort.

It only happens when he reaches the eighth year. It's impossible for Virgil to not recognize that Roman is slipping away at night and only comes back after some hours, either with dirty clothes or things tangled in his hair, he always came back different from when he left, meaning he definitely was wandering off outside.

One night he really can't stop thinking about how worried he is that Roman might get in trouble by himself, while he could probably prevent that, so he decides to follow him. Apparently, Roman is trying to find some kind of important and scary adventure to prove to himself that he's not as useless as he thinks himself to be, but Virgil still doesn't know this.

Virgil doesn't know what to do about the situation and decides to talk to Patton about it, in the end, the two of them decide to make a plan to talk to Roman with Logan, too.

On the other hand, Roman had been seen hanging out with Deceit or Remus, or both at the same time, trying to pry out information from them about how to get to certain forbidden spots of the school if he ever needed to. Surprisingly they don't ask many questions.

Chaos ensues when one night everything goes horribly wrong.

SO YEAH these are a bunch of things that I got right off the bat, I still have to think about the entire plot but don't want to spoil anything, basically the story would begin on the eighth year, just like Carry On, when Roman starts sneaking out. There might be things I need to fix but still I repeat that this is just a draft or a bunch of ideas that I got together somehow.

Tags: @soul-of-a-vixen & @flowersheep who wanted to know more about it~ (I'll write it as soon as I can!!)

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Games People Play

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff/Minor Angst

Word Count: 8343

Summary: Baz gets dragged to a party by Dev. Simon gets dragged to a party by Penelope. Hijinks ensue. Based on "spin the bottle" request.

Read on AO3

AN: Oy vey, this took longer than I wanted. Work keeps giving me the goddamn morning and closing shifts so I've been exhausted beyond belief. But now I'm down to four shifts a week so more writing time :D Shout out to @carryonmylovelies for being the best writing helper/encouragement this side of the cosmos. Love you hun <3 Hope you guys like this!

———————————————

Baz

“Baz,” Dev whines, draping himself all over my back like some annoying floppy blanket. “Please?”

“You being pathetic is certainly not going to change my mind,” I say, focusing intently on my own notes. We have finals in a week, dammit, and my cousin is more focused on this.

“But I need you there! To be my wingman!”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I would be a good wingman?”

“Okay, less of a wingman, more of a support.”

“And since when am I a good support either?”

Dev plops himself on my desk, pushing a pile of my perfectly stacked notes. I scowl deeply. Fucking hell, I’m going to strangle him, blood relation be damned.

“Please, Basil? I’ll get you a new bullet journal or something nerdy like that.” He flicks my stack of leather notebooks.

“Nice try, but no cigar, cousin.” I push my glasses further up my nose. “I have far too much studying to do.”

He groans and slumps further against the wall. “But Agatha is might be there! She’s finally single again after three bloody years. This could be my chance!”

I scoff. “Sure.”

Dev glares at me so hard his eyes become slits. “A man can dream.”

“A man can hallucinate, especially with the right help.”

He leans over, arching over my very important homework. “Y’know, I heard Simon is going to be there too.”

Oh. Fuck. I freeze up, heat rising to my face instantly. A grin spreads across Dev’s stupid face. Bloody hell, I wish I had never told him about my stupid crush. Him, Niall, and I were all drinking cheap beer and playing truth or dare. Apparently that beer was strong to get me to answer “who’s your biggest crush?” truthfully. It’s not something I’m proud of, crushing on my gorgeous idiot roommate. But it exists, and it makes me- he makes me very weak. Damn Dev for using it to his advantage.

“He hates parties,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” Dev leans closer, “but rumour has it, Penelope Bunce is dragging him there. Something about getting him to have fun since his breakup with Agatha. Maybe he could have fun with you.”

I immediately throw a notebook at his stupid face so I don’t have to see it. But it’s also to hide my stupid bright red cheeks. The rational part of my brain knows that’s a one in a billion shot. Snow hates me. He thinks I hate him. It can’t happen. But my lovesick side desperately wants to be hopeful. Maybe, just maybe...

“Fine,” I grumble.

Dev straightens up. “Huh?”

“Fine, I’ll go with you to the stupid party.”

Dev grins like a kid on Christmas. “Yay! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Baz!”

He throws his arms around my neck, bringing most of his weight along with him. I push him off me before I’m strangled. “Yeah, yeah, you owe me, arsehole.”

“I thought Snow’s presence was your payment.”

“No. I expect five mint Aero bars by no later than next week.”

“Ugh, fine. Small price.” He jumps off my desk, then gives me one last squeezy hug. “You’re my favourite cousin.”

“That’s not saying much, considering your other cousins are my demon siblings.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Good point. Party starts at 8 in Fraternity basement. Meet me at my room at 7:45. Bring your game face and cologne. Maybe Snow will like the smell.”

He dashes off, but not before I chuck a pen at his stupid head. It just misses. Dammit. I sigh and hold my face, rubbing it up and down. What the fuck am I doing? This is idiotic. Snow hates my guts, I’ve made sure of that. I decided early on it was easier to just make him hate me from the start than confess my feelings and have him destroy my pathetic gay heart. Snow will always despise me. A party won’t change years of fights and snark and anger. No matter how much deep down I might want it to.

The door slams open, making me jolt. I don’t even need to look to know who it is.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Snow,” I say.

“Fuck off,” he growls like an animal. His uniform is in its usual disarray, tie loose and shirt rumpled. On anyone else I would call it sloppy. But on him, I find it ruggedly charming.

“Pleasant as always, I see.” I push up my glasses and turn back to my notebook, instead of looking at his stupid bronze curls and mesmerizing plain blue eyes.

“I don’t need your shit today, Baz.” I listen as he violently throws open his desk drawers. It sounds like a cabinet in a hurricane. Snow is always a force of nature, in both good and bad ways.

I sigh sarcastically. “Alright. Be as loud and pissy as you want, not like anyone else lives here. Don’t you have chemistry right now?”

He growls again and slams his drawer particularly loud. “Forgot my notes.”

“Ah, I see. Didn’t know you could take any.” The comment is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Sharp comments at Snow have become reflex at this point.

He gives the leg of my chair a good kick, rattling my whole body. I glare at him over my glasses, and he glares right back. Bloody hell, he’s so damn attractive. I look away before my face turns red. Luckily, Snow stomps away again, and I’m left in blissful peace.

Fucking hell, this party is going to be a nightmare.

———————————————

Dev

I’m putting the finishing touches on my amazing hair when I hear the knock.

“That Baz?” Niall asks me, voice all nasally from his clogged nose. He’s on his bed, reading some football magazine while surrounded by a mountain of tissues.

“Probably,” I reply. “He’s willing to go to the party with me.”

Niall scoffs but it comes out as a cough. “Sorry I have allergies.”

“Excuses, excuses.” I waltz over to the door. “Baz is my true friend.” I fling the door open, and my hands immediately drop. “Oh my god.”

Baz raises one eyebrow at me. “What?”

“What the ever loving fuck are you wearing?!”

Baz looks down at his perfectly pressed navy slacks, buttoned to the collar white shirt, and polished black oxfords. “Have you gone blind, cousin? It’s a shirt and slacks.”

I groan and shake my head. “I can see it’s shirts and slacks, Baz. Why are you wearing it?”

“Because it’s good party attire.”

“Mother of God, Basil, you- I just-” I groan again, grabbing his wrist to haul him inside. “Get in here, we have to fix you.”

“Fix me? But-”

“You’re not wearing a suit to a high school party, end of story.” I push him down onto my bed by his shoulders. “First off, this goes.”

I reach out and ruffle his slicked back hair. He smacks my hand away. “Hey!”

I shove a finger in his face. “No one under forty slicks back their hair. And if they do, they’re an arsehole.” I hand him my wide tooth comb. “Comb it out. Now.”

“Why?” Baz hisses.

“Because you don’t want Snow to mistake you for a tight arse banker, right?”

Baz keeps frowning, but starts combing it out anyway. Good. “Next, you’re not wearing these.”

I take his glasses off his face. Baz gapes and tries to snatch the spectacles out of my hand, but I’m too fast. “Dev! Give those back!”

“No! They make you look even more nerdy, and right now we’re making you look cool.”

“But I need them to see!”

“No, you don’t. You only need them to see stuff that’s super far away. This basement is not that big, you’ll be fine. Honestly, I think you wear these to look smart.”

Baz frowns, but he doesn’t protest. He knows I’m right. I nod and go to Niall’s dresser, sorting the messy piles on top that should be in the drawers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Niall asks furiously, but I can’t take him seriously with that high pitched clogged nose voice.

“Baz is going to borrow some of your clothes.”

“Why not your’s?”

“I’m a head shorter than Baz. You two are the same height.”

Baz scowls. “I am not wearing Niall’s clothes. He dresses like a wannabe club cruiser.”

Niall leans over and punches Baz in the arm, hard. Baz growls and punches back with just as much force. Seriously, are they still five?

“No,” I say, “Niall dresses like a normal teenage boy. And tonight you’re going to pretend you’re one too.”

I throw more clothes onto the floor, until I finally find something good. I grin ear to ear. Yes, this is perfect. I turn around and toss the clothing right at Baz’s face, hitting him with a small whack. “There. Wear these.”

Baz takes them off his face and gives them a once over. He looks positively disgusted. “Absolutely not.”

“No bitching. Put them on or we’re not going and you don’t get to gaze longingly at Simon from across the room.”

He looks indignant, and I’m worried he’s going to punch me. But instead he just huffs and stomps to the door, heading to our communal washroom I suppose. I lean to the side to shout at his back. “And you’re wearing Niall’s sneakers! Not those bloody oxfords!”

He flips me off before slamming the door hard. I chuckle and flop back on my bed.

“What would he do without us?” I sigh.

“I think he’s considering finding out,” Niall replies, then sneezes loudly into a tissue. He slowly brings it away. The whole kleenex is covered in snot.

“You’re disgusting” I say.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles. “I hope Baz ends up killing you.”

I smirk, laying down on my crossed arms. Baz won’t kill me. I’m going to have my chance with Agatha, he’ll have his chance with Snow, and we’ll both be happy. Everything will be great.

———————————————

Simon

Everything sucks.

Why am I even here? I’m tired, I’m sweaty, I’m still getting over Agatha, and this party sucks. It’s just a bunch of my classmates in a dingy basement, totally pissed out of their minds, stumbling and bumping into each other. There’s not even any dancing. What’s a party without dancing?!

“I’m bored,” I groan, flopping against Penny, cheek pressed on her head. She sighs and pushes at my side.

“You’re bored because you refuse to leave this wall next to the snack table,” she replies. “Go mix and mingle, bloody well talk to someone other than me.”

“But everyone else doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true, Si, lots of people like you.”

I scoff and cross my arms. Penny’s usually never wrong, but this time she is. People don’t like me, they’re fascinated by me; the weird orphan scholarship kid, the headmaster’s pet project. Only Penny and Agatha actually like me and know me. (Well, Agatha did like me.) And then there’s Baz, who just straight up hates me. Posh prick. Just because I wasn’t born with perfect hair and pretty eyes and a silver spoon shoved up my arse like him he thinks I’m lower than dirt. At least I don’t dress like a nerd. That’s one advantage I have over him, I guess.

“Are you going to leave any snacks for the rest of us?” Penny asks.

I look her in the eye as I shove a bunch of crisps in my mouth. “I’ve captured these crisps in the name of House Snow.”

Penny rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I never should have introduced you to Game of Thrones.”

I smile wide, crisps filling my chipmunk cheeks. Penny laughs happily. Well, maybe being here isn’t too bad. I turn back to look out at the party, still grinning. But then my mouth immediately falls open, chip crumbs spilling on my shirt.

“Simon!” Penny yells. “What are you, five?!”

I dust the crumbs off my shirt, quickly chew and swallow, and point at exactly what I’m looking at. Or more precisely, who. “Penny, Penny, look. Tell me I’m not crazy, is that Baz?!”

Penny squints, pushing her glasses up her nose. I watch as her brown eyes go impossibly wide. “Holy shit, it is.”

“Holy shit,” I echo. Because...this is insane.

In the years I’ve known him, Baz has always dressed like a posh nerd. Uniform crisp and pristine, glasses down his nose like some snooty scholar, and raven hair gelled to oblivion. But tonight, he’s very different. For one, he’s not wearing his glasses, making his cheekbones look even sharper and deep sea grey eyes more visible. His hair isn’t gelled either. It falls in his face in a lazy wave. Most shocking of all, for the first time ever, he isn’t in businessman attire. He’s wearing a torso hugging charcoal grey v-neck, white trainers, and black skinny jeans. Since when does Baz wear black fucking skinny jeans?! And they’re like, really tight, showing off every toned muscle he’s gained from playing football. I can’t stop looking, holy shit.

“Simon? Hello? You still in there?” Penny is waving a hand in front of my face. I blink rapidly, snapping out of my jeans induced trance.

“Uh, yeah, Pen, I’m here. Oh my god, what is going on with Baz tonight?”

She shrugs, looking more like me than herself. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s decided to change up his style.”

“I seriously doubt that. He’s been wearing the same kind of clothes since we were all eleven, Pen.”

“People can change.”

“Not Baz.” I narrow my eyes, examining his strange outfit  with careful precision. “He’s plotting something.”

Penny sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Simon, for the last time, Baz is not some vampire supervillain.”

I scoff, crossing my arms with a frown. “Says you. I just haven’t proven it yet.”

“Whatever, Si. How about you try to have fun tonight? That’s why we’re here, remember?”

I hear what Penny is saying, but I’m still watching Baz. He’s got his arms crossed, leaning on one foot, a frown on his face. But that last one could just be, y’know, him. Everything about his face is designed for pouting. Either way, he doesn’t look happy to be here, no more than me. He must not like that his plot isn’t working or something. I keep glaring at him as I shove M&M’s into my mouth.

“And you’re gone,” Penny sighs. “I do not get your issue with him.”

“You don’t live with him,” I grumble through my candy.

“No, but I feel like I know way too much about him because of you. Seriously you need to stop obsessing over him.”

Baz lifts a hand to tuck a piece of his raven hair behind his ear, showing off the pointy tip. I stroke my chin. What’s the purpose of that? Is he trying to distract me? Is he trying to pretend he’s all cute and innocent and not evil? Strange, very strange...

“Hey! We’re playing spin the bottle!” someone shouts. “Who wants in?”

I stay on my wall. I don’t have anything against spin the bottle, but I’m busy, and not really in the mood to kiss a few random classmates. Plus I haven’t seen Agatha yet, but she might not be here. I’d rather not run into her.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on my arm and someone is dragging me away. I look over at Penny, who has a determined expression on her face.

“Pen, where are we going?” I ask, fear filling my voice.

“You’re going to play spin the bottle.”

I inhale sharply. “What?! No way!”

“Yes way! You’re going to go have fun, dammit.”

“Is spin the bottle supposed to be fun? I thought it was just embarrassing.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never played. And I’m not going to play cause I’m in a serious relationship.”

“Great endorsement,” I mutter. I try to wriggle out of her grip, but it’s no use. She’s like a bloody pitbull. Eventually, she turns to face me, hand on her hip.

“Simon, you can’t mope and overthink about Baz against a wall the entire time. Just try this, see if you have fun. You haven’t had fun in ages. You can stop anytime, just try please.”

I sigh, body and ego deflating at once. “Fine, I’ll try.”

Penny smiles a bit. “Good.”

She lets go, but I keep walking towards the loose circle of tipsy British teens. I recognize most of them. Trixie, Keris, Rhys, Gareth, and Philippa. (Luckily no Agatha, that would be awkward.)

“Hey we’ll join!”

We all turn to the left. “Oh god,” I groan.

Baz glares at me as he sits next to Dev, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes are deep sea grey daggers trying to stab me in the head. Why did he have to sit so close to me?! Luckily there’s a slightly drunk boy between us, wobbling back and forth even though he’s sitting. Hope he doesn’t get sick on any of us, especially if we’re supposed to be bloody kissing.

Oh fuck, what if I have to...no, no way. There’s very little chance that will happen. The universe can’t hate me that much.

Keris raises her hand. “I’ll go first.”

I lean my cheek on my palm. I really don’t care who goes, as long as it’s not me. Keris grabs the vodka bottle and gives it a good hard spin. I follow the spinning with my eyes, watching as the low orange light reflects off the glass. It’s kind of hypnotising, almost makes me want to sleep. Christ, I’m bored.

The bottle finally stops, and everyone either laughs or groans. It lands right on Trixie. I burst out in fits of giggles, clutching my stomach. Okay, maybe the universe sucks, but at least it has a sense of humour.

“You cheated!” Gareth declares.

Keris snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I can totally cheat at spinning a bottle, Gareth.”

“If there is you found a way!”

Keris shrugs. She turns to her left and kisses her girlfriend right on the mouth. The really drunk people whoop and cheer. Some of my more immature male classmates gasp or gape like fish. Penny just sighs behind me. This isn’t unusual for her. I’ve heard many rants from her about Trixie and Keris’ snogging in her room. This is probably mild for her.

The couple separates with a little pop. Both girls are grinning ear to ear. A few boys are still gaping, which is kind of gross. I glance over at Baz, to see if maybe he’s having any sort of reaction. But he’s still as stone faced as ever. He seems to be having even less fun than me. That’s one plus, I guess.

“My turn,” Trixie singsongs. She lays a delicate hand on the bottle and spins it. It lands a foot away from me, and for a second I think it landed on Baz. My heart rate jumps a beat. Holy shit, did that land on him? But when Dev raises his hand, I let out a long breath, feeling relieved for some reason.

“I don’t think you want to kiss me,” Dev chuckles, and everyone else chuckles along with him. Except Baz, because he’s a creature of darkness who is physically incapable of laughter.

“The cheek okay?” Trixie asks

Dev shrugs with a small smile. “I’ll take it.

Trixie leans forward on her knees and Dev follows. She plants a big wet kiss on his cheek. Rhys gives a sarcastic whoop and holler. Gareth gives his own over dramatic “oooooo” and pumps his fist. As she sits back, Trixie rolls her eyes, going back to slum;ing on Keris’ shoulder.

“You two are so mature,” she drawls.

Gareth and Rhys keep giggling and high five each other. I chuckle under my breath. It’s immature, but just a bit funny. Dev takes the bottle in hand and spins it hard. I’ve heard rumours he has a crush on Agatha, so whoever he gets he’ll probably be disappointed. I’m getting bored again, leaning on my hand. The bottle lands on Philippa. The cheering duo gets punched in the arm by Keris before they get out too many whoops or hollers.

Dev looks at the ground, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, you wanna, Philippa?”

Philippa flicks her eyes over to me for a second. I’m not sure what she hopes to see. Honestly, I feel kinda bad for not being what she wants me to be for her. I look down, because I’m not sure what else to do.

“Sure,” Philippa replies.

I lift my head just enough to see what happens. Dev and Philippa crawl towards the centre of the circle. They both look very nervous, both lacking in experience or alcohol or probably both. He leans forward, eyes closed and lips pursed. She does the same and closes the distance. The kiss barely lasts half a second, but drunk people still cheer like it’s a Manchester FC game. Dev and Philippa scramble to their seats with bright red faces.

Philippa spins the bottle without saying anything. I’m barely following at this point. Pretty sure I’m going to leave after this and go stuff mint aero bars in my mouth. That’s the best breakup therapy in my opinion. I hope Baz hasn’t eaten my entire stash.

“Simon?” Penny taps my shoulder forcefully. “Simon, it landed on you.”

My head snaps up, only to see everyone staring at me, some looking very confused and concerned. I look down at the vodka bottle, the top pointing right at me. My eyes go wide. “Oh,” I squeak.

Philippa is blushing all the way down to her neck,with a small smile. She plays with the end of her hair. “Do you want to?” she asks.

I gulp, fiddling with my fingers. I’m nervous, but not really reluctant. Philippa is nice enough and I know she likes me. Maybe it’ll be nice, maybe I’ll feel something. What’s the harm?

“Uh, sure,” I say with a slightly forced smile.

Philippa’s smile gets a bit bigger. Fuck, am I leading her on? I don’t want to hurt her. This is a terrible idea, shit. She crawls forward, closing her eyes and sticking her face out. I shuffle towards her, squeeze my eyes shut, and kiss her.

It’s slightly longer than her kiss with Dev, but not by much. Long enough for me to realise her lips are smooth and smell like vanilla. Other than that I feel...nothing. It’s not that Philippa is bad. I just don’t feel a spark or anything close. I used to feel something with Agatha. Not a lot, but there was a stomach drop or a heart flutter at first. Not now. Part of me is scared I’ll never find anything like that again.

We separate, everyone is still making their obnoxious cheers. They’re laughing and smiling, so I try to smile back. The only person not so happy is, weirdly enough, Baz. He’s got his arms crossed and the corners of his mouth threaten to break out of his cheeks just so his scowl can get bigger. What’s got his knickers in a twist? Maybe he has a crush on Philippa. Well, pissing him off is a benefit I guess.

“Your turn, Simon,” Philippa says meekly, smiling and blushing at the ground.

“Um...” For a minute, I seriously consider standing up and running like the wind. But everyone is looking at me. I guess one more time couldn’t hurt. “Okay.”

I grab the bottle and give it a firm spin. But I guess I’m slightly on an angle, because it spins to the left like a wayward football. People scramble away to not get hit, giggling and clinging to their friends. I’m just focused on where it lands. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can bow out gracefully and stuff my face with chocolate. It slows bit by bit, and finally, it stops. I snap my head up to see who it landed on. I’m met with a pair of panicked deep sea grey eyes.

Oh fuck.

Baz

That’s it, God hates me. There’s absolutely no question now. Of all the people he could’ve landed on, why did it have to be me?! This is an absolute disaster. Panic washes over my body like a nonstop tidal wave. Dev laughs and slaps me on the back, like this is some football goal at a match. I want to shout at him for being a numpty and run away to a very dark corner where I can just die.

But I’m frozen, staring at a gaping Simon Snow.

“Oh fuck,” a drunk guy slurs to his friend, trying to whisper but failing horribly, “don’t they like, hate each other?”

Snow’s face shifts from shock to a deep, deep scowl. He jumps to his feet. “Yeah, we do. So this is not happening.”

I manage to stifle my sigh of utter relief, but my silence is probably odd. So I cross my arms and stick my nose in the air. “Good. Like I would ever want to your chavy mouth on mine.”

Fuck, why did I add that last part? I hope I’m not blushing and giving myself away. Snow is turned around, ready to leave, but throws a fiery look at me over his shoulder. “Fuck off, Baz,” he snaps.

“Very eloquent, Snow. Forgot to mention your mouth is stupid too.” Except it’s not stupid. It’s full and soft looking and fucking beautiful, and I wish he wanted to kiss me with it.

Snow balls his fist and looms over me. “Well, your mouth is naturally made for frowning.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, very nice. Your’s can’t form proper sentences.”

“At least I’m not spouting shit all the time!”

“Either follow the rules of the game or leave, Snow.”

Bunce rubs her nose under her glasses. “Simon, let’s just go.”

She takes his arm but he doesn’t listen to her for once, shaking her off and menacing over me more. “Oh, you want me to kiss you, Basilton?”

Oh fuck fuck fuck, what is wrong with me?! I didn’t drink anything. I think I’ve just lost my goddamn mind. I need to get out of here before I burst into flames from pure embarrassment.

I stand up, brushing off these ridiculous jeans. “Of course not. I would rather go back to our room than have my lips torn up by your dry ones.”

Simon growls like a caged animal. And it should not make me as excited as it does. “My lips are not dry.”

“Guys,” Gareth says slowly, “maybe you should just-”

“The constant bleeding and scabs would disagree.” Leave Snow, for the love of God, just storm off with Bunce, please.

“Oh yeah?” Snow leans forward over the drunk boy in between us. “Well, I bet if I kissed you, you would like it, arsehole.”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I certainly am now. I am literally going to explode on the spot any minute. I scoff and look away.

“Like hell I would.” Yes, I would, and it would be awful.

“Fuck you, you would!”

“Never!” I snap, digging my nails into my arm.

Snow growls once again. “I bet my goddamn sword history book you would!”

He’s leaning closer now, close enough I can smell his cheap soap. It makes my pulse quicken terribly, like the thump of a rabbit’s foot. “It would be easy winnings.”

“Says you!”

“Yes, and I’m right!”

“No you’re not!”

“I am!”

“Why don’t I prove it, huh?!”

“Fine, go ahead!”

I don’t even have time to process what I said. Because Simon Snow immediately grabs my collar and kisses me.

Holy fuck.

Simon

I just want to prove I’m right, and stop his stupid mouth. I hate when he throws insults at me. And now it seems for once I’ve actually shut him up. We’re both frozen in place, me shoving my mouth on his. I faintly hear everyone gasp around us. But I’m too focused on kissing Baz. Oh my fucking god, I’m kissing Baz!

He’s just standing like a statue while I hold his collar with a death grip and squeeze my eyes shut. He’s really not moving at all, not even a twitch. Is he surprised? That would make sense. Scared? I won’t hurt him, not right now. It’s just a kiss.

Baz’s lips are colder than Agatha’s. Softer too. Like silk sheets on a chilly night. It feels kind of nice, actually. When his top lip slightly slips between mine, I swear to god, my brain short circuits. Scratch kind of, this feels really nice. Sensation spreads from my mouth through my whole body. Why does this feel so much better than when I kissed Philippa? Or even better than Agatha? This is so confusing and amazing my brain is about to explode.

I don’t even know how long we spend with our lips pressed together. I tilt my head to the side a bit, just for a change of pace. And even though it’s crazy, I swear, for a moment Baz relaxes and pushes his mouth forward. Pushing his mouth closer to mine. Oh my god. Is...is Baz kissing me back? It feels so much better.

My hands slide around to the back of his neck, and Baz’s hair is soft of course. I think about grabbing it, but Baz suddenly pushes me away. It happens so out of the blue I stumble back in shock. I expect him to be angry, to punch me in the face or at least shout until he’s blue in the face. But Baz, he looks, scared. What’s there to be scared of? His eyes frantically dart around, chest heaving, until he looks back at me. I’ve never seen someone so frightened in my entire life.

Baz turns and bolts away, slamming the door behind him.

The entire room is silent for a long, awkward moment. You could hear a bloody pin drop it’s so quiet. I’m frozen, mouth hanging open. I can’t even process what just happened. So many things are going through my head right now, turning into a mushy goop of mismatched ideas and fears. I look at Penny.

“Pen, I- what just- I...” I can’t form words. My mouth and tongue feel so unbelievably useless, even more so than usual.

“Simon-” she starts. But before I hear what she says, I’m off running. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but I have to follow Baz. I just have to.

———————————————

It takes me way, way too long to find him. I search all throughout the Fraternity before I remember just how bloody dramatic Baz is. He wouldn’t hide away in the building, he’d go to where he always goes when he’s upset. Not his room or an alcove like a normal person. The Wavering Wood.

I run across the great lawn, wind whistling in my ears. The trees get larger and larger until I finally reach the edge. It’s dark out, so I have to navigate mostly by my other senses. I feel rough bark, sink into on wet dirt, hear the leaves crunch beneath my boots. I squint, trying to see in the darkness. And when I catch a glimpse of black shining in the moonlight, I dash towards it.

Baz is sitting under a tree, legs pulled up to his chest, face buried in his knees. Raven hair fans around him. I watch his back heave and shudder. Fuck. I don’t think he’s okay.

Slowly, I walk towards him, careful not to make too much noise. I don’t want to spook him, no more than he already is. But of course I step on a fucking branch, the snap ringing through the whole goddamn woods. Baz’s head bolts up. His eyes are wide and scared like a deer caught in the headlights. Tear streaks stain his cheeks. We keep staring at each other, until Baz looks back at the ground.

“What do you want, Snow?” he asks. He’s trying to be intimidating, but his voice is too strained to scare me.

“I, uh...” Fuck, what do I want? Why am I here? I’m not Baz’s friend. Quite the opposite, really. Yet it hurts to see him like this, so I start walking towards him, fiddling with my belt hole loops. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You um, ran out of there pretty fast...”

He snorts unkindly. “That wasn’t an invitation for you to follow, Snow.”

I groan, rolling my head back. “Man, I’m actually trying to be nice, there’s no need to be an arsehole.”

“Since when do you care about me?”

I shrug as I sit down on the grassy ground. I’m cross legged, facing Baz and his dagger stare. “You looked scared back the party, and then I see you here crying. I’d be worried no matter who you were.”

He rolls his eyes incredibly dramatically. “Of course, Mr. Hero. Any kittens that need to be saved from trees? Probably more pertinent than me.”

“You’re the one crying in the woods, so I think you take top priority.”

Baz tries to wipe away the tear marks, but they stay the same. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, you’re obviously upset.”

“No matter what, it’s none of your business.”

I look down at the ground, playing with my shoelace. I know what I want to mean, but I’m not sure how to get the words right. Everything I’m considering seems dumb. Baz will throw anything stupid back in my face. Actually, stupid or not, he’ll throw it back. Might as well just go for it.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. I flick my eyes up, and Baz is gaping at me, his eyebrows are all scrunched together.

“You’re...sorry?” he says, genuinely confused for the first time in his life.

I rub the back of my neck. “Y-Yeah, I’m just, really sorry.”

“For what?”

What the hell does he mean? What else could I be talking about? I look right at him. “For like...kissing you when you didn’t want it. It was stupid and impulsive and really rude to you. You should never kiss anyone when they don’t want it. So I’m really sorry.”

“You...think I didn’t want you to kiss me?”

“Um, yeah. I thought you said I could, but then you ran out of there pretty fast afterwards. So I’m just super sorry, Baz.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, only filled by wind whistling through the branches. I keep looking at the ground. I’m not sure what Baz’s expression, and I’m not sure I want to see. I hope he’s forgiven me. I honestly don’t know what to do if he doesn’t.

“Thank you, for the apology,” he says slowly. “But you don’t have to feel bad.”

My head snaps up. Baz is looking away now. And in the pale moonlight, I can see a faint blush going all the way to his ears. I’m not worried anymore, just unbelievably confused. “W-What do you mean?”

Baz plays with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, I’m not upset that you kissed me without my permission, because you had it. I did say you could. We both made an impulsive decision.”

“Then why did you run off so fast?”

He twists the hem so hard I’m afraid he’s going to tear it. “Because, it’s just embarrassing to have your first kiss in front of your entire class, no matter who it is.”

My eyes go impossibly huge. I swear they become bigger than the moon. Holy fucking shit. “That back there was your first kiss?”

His blush gets worse, spreading down to his neck. Baz has always been so cool and calm. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s strange, but kind of makes him seem more human in a way. He nods slowly.

“Oh,” I squeak. I inch closer, trying to comfort him, before remembering that I’m the last person Baz wants comfort from. Especially after I embarrassed him. God, I feel like a prat. “I-I’m still sorry then. I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

“Stop saying sorry, Snow,” he sighs. “It’s really fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was okay with it, because I li-” His lips press together before he says anything else. He plays with a loose strand of his hair, looking nervous and shy, still blushing so hard his entire face is red. The gears start turning in my head. I’m not as oblivious as everyone thinks I am. I can see things, they can just take a bit longer. And I think I see something very big now.

“Wait,” I say slowly, “do you...like me?”

Baz bites hard on his bottom lip and clenches his fists. A few more tears fall down his cheeks, but he doesn’t wipe them away, not even acknowledging they exist. My mouth drops open.

“For how long? Have you, uh, felt like that?”

He finally looks at me, his eyes wet and vulnerable. I’ve never seen him like this before, not ever. He doesn’t look like a villain, or a bully, or even an arsehole. He just looks like...a boy.

“A long time,” he whispers harshly, like he’s forcing the words off his tongue. “Almost since we met.”

And I thought I was done with surprises for the night. My heart is beating twofold, but I’m not sure with what emotion. Everything is so jumbled and twisted up right now. “O-Oh. Really?”

Baz rolls his eyes, though he looks more annoyed than genuinely angry. “Yes, really. You think I would make that up?”

“I don’t know! I’m not sure I know anything about you anymore...” I nervously scratch at the back of my wrist until the skin turns red. Nothing is processing, nothing makes sense. And one question pops up immediately. “If you feel that way, why have you always been such a wanker?”

Baz lets out a small snorty laugh, and immediately covers his mouth. But it’s kind of adorable. And I kind of want to hear it again. “Very well put question, Snow.”

“Are you gonna answer it or keep being a wanker?” I’m not angry, just tired really.

“Fine,” he sighs. He goes back to twisting his hair and shirt, chewing on the corner of his pouty lip. “I was a wanker because it was easier.”

“Easier?”

His face lowers even more, nearly behind his knees. “Easier for you to hate me, than for me to confess my stupid feelings and innevitably have you break my heart.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, almost offended that he thought I would be so cruel. But Baz looks even more hurt. I think that his feelings matter more right now. “Oh. Okay. You thought I would really hurt you?”

“You were straight as an arrow and already madly in love with Wellbelove when we were 11.” He traces the dirt with his toe, scuffing the pretty white trainer. “You would’ve hurt me even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” I squeak.

Baz scoffs with the corner of his mouth pulled up. “That’s your favourite sound tonight, Snow.”

I let out a sort of scoffing chuckle. He’s an arse, but funny. I’ve never noticed how funny he can be in his own biting way before. “Well, you keep dropping bombshells, it’s perfectly reasonable. Honestly you’re lucky I’m not exploding everywhere.”

He laughs, still small, but doesn’t cover his mouth. He doesn’t hide. “Yes, well, cleaning up bits of you off the forest floor wouldn’t be my favourite activity. It would be more fun than your snoring though.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yes you do, I would know. You’re like an adorable little fog horn.”

We both laugh, starting small and getting louder and louder. Baz even begins to giggle, fucking giggle. He sounds like a thousand little silver bells. I shouldn’t be laughing. Usually I would be offended by his jabs. I’d yell and scream at him for being a dick. But he’s laughing, smiling, all with a playful glint in his deep grey eyes. I wonder, is this what Baz is really like? When he isn’t trying to make me hate him?

“I like this,” I blurt out. Baz stops laughing immediately. A confused furrow forms between his brows.

“Like what?” he asks cautiously.

“This, right now, what we’re doing. Being nice and honest.” I shuffle closer, knees nearly touching his. “I like this better than fighting.”

Baz’s pouty lips fall open slightly, just barely half an inch, and his eyebrows raise. I think that’s Baz’s equivalent of completely, utterly shocked. “Seriously?”

I grin as wide as I can. “Yeah, seriously. Do you, uh, like it too?”

I expect Baz to smile, to laugh, to be happy. But instead he looks scared. Even his hands are shaking. I reach forward, but Baz pulls away, wrapping his arms around himself. Another tear falls down his face but he quickly wipes it away.

“Why were you crying?” I ask quickly. “Was it just like, embarrassment?”

Baz slowly shakes his head, more black hair falling in his face in a lazy wave. “N-No, it’s just...this can’t be happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t stopped hating me, that can’t change.”

His voice is so small and scared. I blink rapidly, tilting my head to the side. “Why not?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, staring at his own lap. “Because I’ve made your life hell for years! Because one stupid kiss and a few laughs can’t change things after so long.”

I move even closer. I can see every crevice in his face the moonlight hits, every sign of his tears. Oh. I think I get it, sorta. I kissed him, and Baz wanted it, but he was sad because he was sure it would never happen again. That’s a reasonable conclusion. At least, it was.

“Maybe it can’t change everything right away. But,” I reach forward and touch his wrist, just lightly, and when he doesn’t move away I stay there, “we could try, y’know. To change things.”

He doesn’t look up, but his brows wrinkle together again, and I find it unbearably adorable. “What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” I say quickly before I lose my nerve. “I mean, I’m not a very great boyfriend, if my last relationship is any clue. But if you want this, I want this.”

I stare at the ground, too nervous to look at Baz’s face. I don’t let go of his wrist though, and he doesn’t move away, but it’s still silent again. Every passing second makes my anxiety build up and up like a shaken soda about to blow. Will he run away? He ran away before. I don’t want him to go, not again. I don’t want to lose him. (Fuck, that’s dramatic.)

“You’re an idiot,” Baz sighs, and it makes my breath hitch. “But you can have...this, if you want.”

My head snaps up so fast my neck hurts. Baz is finally looking at me, eyes soft and open. I’ve never seen him like that before. A grin spreads across my face. I probably look stupid but I couldn’t care less.

“I do,” I say, “I really do.”

He smiles softly. Slowly, he turns his hand around and fully holds mine. His skin is colder than most people’s and strangely rough for someone so posh. His calluses scratch perfectly against mine. It feels incredible, somehow so much better than holding anyone else’s hand. Just like that kiss.

“Hey, uh,” I nervously run my thumb over his tepid skin, “can I, um, maybe...kiss you again? Like in a nicer way?”

Baz chuckles, squeezing my hand. “Yes, you lovely moron, you may. If we’re going to date, you need to fix your gram-”

I get up on my knees and shut his cute smartarse mouth by pressing mine against it.

Baz

Bloody hell, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Because for the second time in one night, Simon Snow is kissing me. And this time he really wants to, because he likes me, because he wants to be my boyfriend.

It’s not forceful or angry like before, just firm enough to get me to stop mocking him. I freeze for a moment, the shock hitting me like a truck. But slowly, bit by bit, I let myself melt into it. Snow tilts his head to the side, so I do too, letting our lips slip together. Simon does this thing with his chin that drives me insane. At first I try to mimic exactly what he does, shoving back with my body and mouth, but I quickly realise I have zero idea what I’m doing. For once, Snow is the expert. So I let myself relax, giving up control for the first time in my life. Snow pushes me against the tree and places a hand on the side of my face. He delicately runs his thumb over my cheekbone, like I’m something good, something precious to him. Is this a fucking dream?

His hand moves farther back. Calloused fingers slip through my hair as his tongue slips between my lips. It’s warm and wet and the best thing I’ve ever felt in my entire miserable life.

“Baz,” he sighs quietly between our mouths.

No, this isn’t a dream. My imagination has never been this perfect.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against me. “Simon,” I groan. He kisses me harder, clenching a fist in my hair to better shove our faces together. Suddenly my breath feels short, and I push lightly at Simon’s chest. He moves away instantly.

“Sorry,” he says. He’s out of breath, unsurprisingly. I am too.

“No it’s okay, just,” I sigh and run my hands up his sides, “this is quite a lot for a second kiss. I just need a breather.

Simon giggles quietly. He falls forward, tapping his forehead against mine. I press my hands into his back, feeling the muscles through his shirt. We stay like that for awhile. I don’t mind. I would stay with Simon in my arms forever if I could.

“Hey,” he whispers, eyes still closed and leaning against me, “I’ve got a question.”

“Is it a sensical question?”

He pinches the back of my neck, just lightly. Not enough to hurt but enough to make his annoyance clear. “Yes, arsehole. Why were you at the party? You hate parties.”

“So do you.”

“Penny dragged me to it to have mandatory fun. So what’s your reason?”

I chuckle quietly. “Funny enough, Dev begged me to come with him because he wanted support for when he hit on your ex-girlfriend.”

Snow reels back, eyes wide and mouth falling open. “Seriously?!”

“M-hm.”

“But Agatha didn’t even come!”

“Yup. So it looks like I’ve had far more romantic success tonight than my cousin.”

Snow snorts out an adorable laugh. His hand trails forward across my jawline. It leaves sparks of sensation on my skin. He plays with a piece of loose hair in front of my face. “Y’know, I like your hair like this. You should leave it loose more often. Save some money on hair gel.”

I chuckle again, and Snow follows. Soon it turns into a loud laughter from both of us. I’ve never laughed more in my life than I have tonight. Once I calm down, I look up at him, smiling brightly. “M-hm. And you’re someone to take fashion advice from?”

A small part of me worries Snow is going to scowl and yell at me for being a prick. But instead he smiles too and rolls his eyes. I let out a small breath of relief. Everything is different now, and I love it so much more.

“Yeah, well, I know a good thing when I see it.” His hands goes lower, trailing over the soft v-neck. “Like this shirt. It fits you well.”

“Really?” I croon, trying to hide the fact that I’m exploding inside.

“Uh-huh. And these jeans. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in them.”

I grin so much my cheeks happily ache. “Well, I’ll let Niall know you like his clothes.”

His mouth drops open. “This is Niall’s stuff?!”

I cock an eyebrow. “You think I own clothes like this?”

“Well, no. But I, uh, kind of wish you did. You should definitely buy more jeans...”

His cheeks are cherry red. I’m pretty sure mine are too. I hold his waist tighter, tilting my head up towards his. “I’ll be sure to get some on my next trip into town.”

He smiles again, looking like a ray of sunshine. “Can I come with?”

God, he’s like an adorable little puppy. “I don’t see why not, Snow.”

He leans forward and brushes our noses together. “You called me Simon before.”

“No I didn’t,” I singsong.

Snow pushes even closer to me, warm lips against my ear. “I like it,” he whispers. “I like it when you call me Simon.”

How have I not melted into the forest floor yet? I don’t feel like a real person anymore. Just the remnants of a pathetic gay teenager who’s melted into a puddle after having all his dreams come true in a single night. I hold him tighter. Because I’m not letting him go anytime soon.

“Simon,” I sigh, just before I turn my head and kiss him softly. He reciprocates immediately, and I’m in absolute euphoria. I know we have to move eventually but I don’t want to anytime soon.

“Best spin the bottle game ever,” Simon giggles.

“Damn right,” I whisper, just before pulling him back into a searing kiss.

My god, I’m living a charmed life.

———————————————

AN: Main worry with this fic: I feel like things move too quickly, but at the same time I didn't want to drag it out. Like we all know what's going to happen, best not to beat around the bush lol. Either way, this has flaws like anything I write, but I still like it. I thoroughly enjoyed writing Simon's reaction to Baz in tshirt and jeans lol. Hope you peeps liked it too, see you next fic :)

[snowbellewells]

A Fic-aversary and an Apology

Okay, folks, I really hate to do this (and have tried really hard not to up until now) but I am going to have to skip a week on my CSSNS MC “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)”.  I’ve been really busy with my job, plus lots of crammed weekends running here and there where I didn’t have time to grade or write.  Then, I started feeling like where I was going in chapter ten and on from there needed to deviate from my initial plan, and it just wasn’t going to happen in two days’ time.  I’ve been a couple days late the last two weeks and then it’s even less time to get the next one written, and so on.  So, I really apologize and don’t mean to keep you waiting too long, but it will be next Friday before I have chapter ten for you. What I do have instead is a fic I wrote about a year and a half ago, before I was terribly good at posting on Tumblr that I’m bringing back for a bit of an anniversary. It’s near and dear to my heart, and I would love for more folks to see it.  

Most importantly: It has gorgeous cover art now, which I am just in love with, made for me by @hollyethecurious !!  She really made it more beautiful and eye-catching.  

Anyway, to tide you over until next week (and I hope to also FINALLY update my CSRomCom au again this weekend as well) enjoy “Looking for a Heart (that’s not Walking Away)”!!!

(Liam x Belle multichapter fic, canon divergent from about 5x15/5x16)

(This one was a completely new and different fic attempt for me.  Not only does it go AU from about the middle of 5b, but it changes a lot of what happened with Liam in 5x15, and while some of 5x16 and 5x17 happened, some of it didn’t.  Beyond all that, it’s putting a large focus on characters I haven’t written much before, and one that we really haven’t seen a lot of to characterize in the same way that I can work with say Emma and Killian.  Still, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and finally found that I had to give this a try.  It doesn’t explain how everything happened right away, but events will be filled in as the story progresses.  I feel like this is a bit of a mix between canon divergence and AU.  Slow burn friendship/relationship for Belle and Liam; sideline CS and others.  I definitely don’t own them, just having fun imagining.  I’d love to hear what you think!!)

*I will also attempt to add ff.net links to the rest of the chapters at the end...

“Looking for a Heart that’s Not Walking Away”

chapter one: like ships in the night

          In the wee, cold hours of the morning, anyone walking Storybrooke’s town square would have seen only peaceful, vacant storefronts and the dim stillness of a little hamlet still fast asleep; or they would until they reached the library and found one solitary light burning stubbornly in the back of the building.  Most residents and visitors knew the building and the sweet, brunette librarian who kept the place with pride, but even without the whole story, they also knew she had not been the same since her return from the Underworld with the rest of the heroes.  The light burning in the middle of the night, and the large, dark circles under the clearly sleepless woman’s eyes when one saw her in Granny’s Diner the next morning picking listlessly at her pancakes and syrup, were only outward signs of her inner turmoil and pain.  

          This particular night turned earliest bit of morning, Belle Gold sat at the circulation desk, a cup of lavender tea, which she had hoped would soothe her and induce sleep, long gone cold at her elbow, and a large, gilt-edged book open before her.  In her insomnolent state, she had returned to this once-favorite story for help, but instead she found herself wishing to violently rip the pages from its spine, more troubled than ever as she huddled on the high stool pulled up to the counter to perch on as she read and wrapped her dressing gown more tightly around herself against the now-familiar questions swirling in her mind: ‘What did I ever see in this story?’ ‘How stupid could I have been?’ ‘What ever made me think I could influence anyone or be a hero?’ ‘Every attempt I’ve ever made went wrong and only made things worse…’

          Shivering against the drafts of a still-chilly April night and the cold certainty that she was nothing but a fraud; so naively convinced of her pretty ideals but completely ineffectual at doing anything with them when the moment of truth had come, Belle knew rest and peace were far from coming.  A tear ran silently down her pale cheek as she thought of all that had happened – the tangled, progressively darker events which made up her own story – and she sucked in a ragged breath, trying to keep it from turning into the wrenching full-bodied sob she felt rising within her.  Though she had fought so valiantly hard, it would seem her tale could not possibly end in happily ever after now.  All her efforts at love and bravery – at goodness – had turned to dust in her hands, crumbling like the shriveled brown flower Hades had used to taunt her after Gaston’s fall into the River of Lost Souls.  

          The only thing keeping her from falling apart completely, she thought ruefully as one small, graceful hand lowered to rest protectively on her slightly protruding belly was the tiny being she had wished for so long.  This baby should have been a lovely, innocent symbol of her and Rumple’s love, a living hope and second chance – for her husband, and for herself – and now Rumple would never even know his second born child.  Though Belle was not sure what she had left to give this unborn babe, her hope and belief nearly dried up and vanished forever, its growth inside her was what kept her from lying down on the floor of her precious library and never rising again.  All of her gumption, her resolve, her joy, were gone, deserting her as completely as they had ever filled her before, and the fact that her child would need her was all to which she could truly cling.

          Eventually, just as the dark night turned early morning and lightened to grey, and the faintest traces of sunrise began to streak the sky, Belle’s head lowered, the side of her face coming to rest on the printed page of the book she had so loved once upon a time, her impossible, idealized version of a hero pressed to the soft, pale skin of her cheek as she slumped over the counter in a restless sleep…

          As she dreams, she is once more in the Underworld, brought by the man she has tried so hard to win back from the Beast within – the pressing roar in his ear of magic and power – the man who, despite it all, she has never ceased loving, to the very throne of the Lord of the Dead. Rumple’s hand clenches her forearm so tightly it hurts, and she realizes with stark clarity that even the Dark One is no match for a deity.  Rumple is sorely afraid, though he doesn’t let his outward appearance show it.

          From there, the moments progress like an inexorable nightmare.  So soon after her inadvertent actions against Gaston, things already seem hazy and unreal; she can barely comprehend the showdown forming between her husband and Hades. Fire and light shoot back and forth, crashing against one another in the middle and neither attack striking its intended target.

          Winded, panting, nearly falling to his knees with exhaustion, Rumple finally raises a hand in surrender, as she runs to support him and help him back up, seeing the drained former spinner without his precious might and the upper hand.  Putting a bracing hand beneath his elbow, she steadies Rumple as he stands once more and intends to do so as he moves forward, until he turns to her, bringing them to a halt.

          Meeting Belle’s eyes in that moment, Rumplestiltskin’s gaze shows pain and infinite regret; only somewhere beneath those emotions is the love lingering for her, love that she had always wanted to believe would triumph over the Dark One’s lies.  “I am so sorry, Belle.  For so many things…” he whispers brokenly, the back of his hand stroking her cheek as lightly as the mere brush of air in a breath, as if hesitant to hurt her more than he has already. “I have put you through more pain than any love should have to bear…only to have it all come to this in the end.”

          Pulling his gaze away from her face, Belle sees her husband’s eyes slide back to meet the god’s controlled, implacable stare and subtly shifts forward to stand in front of her, partially shielding her from Hades’ view.  Her heart is swept up in pride for him at this moment of real, selfless bravery, even as it then breaks when his next words sink in. “Very well, Hades,” Rumplestiltskin hisses, sounding as reptilian and menacing as Killian has always insisted, his sharp eyes flashing even as he concedes.  “You know that I cannot best you, but with the powers of the Dark One and its immortality, you cannot end me either.  Let Belle and our child go, and I will serve you by finding you a replacement soul, one that will prove much more satisfactory than a mere infant.”

          The silent air crackles around them, and Belle opens her mouth to cry out, “Rumple, no!” and pull him back, both terrified at what the Lord of the Underworld might do, and horrified anew that Rumple could once more offer up another person’s soul as if it were his to barter, even as she had thought for once he was making a heroic sacrifice.  But she feels his fingers curl around her even more firmly, and a tingle runs up her whole arm, holding her in place, words bottled in her throat no matter how she tries to force them out, until she realizes that Rumple is using his magic to hold her back and keep her silent.  Emotions rise in a confusing swirl, and Belle is not sure if she is moved by his desperate bid to protect her or impotently furious at his overriding her free will.

          Hades tilts his head to the side, coming closer as he studies his nemesis calculatingly.  “Let me see,” he mused, wearing a face that gives the sense of bored unconcern, even Belle with no magic or powers beyond human intuition knows the god is toying with his prey – if pressed, she has seen much the same look on Rumple’s face too many times as the Dark One.  “An intriguing proposition,” he drawls out the words slowly, as if tasting the flavor of some delicacy on his tongue, “…but do I believe you?”

          “You would do well to take me seriously,” Rumple vows, iron in his voice and threat on his tongue.  “I may not win, but you will be battling me until the judgment day, neither of us able either to triumph or to pass on.”  He steps forward as well, standing taller with a hint of the malice that shows at the heights of his power, limp nearly unnoticeable as he meets Hades and reaches out his hand.  “You want to take this deal, trust me,” Rumplestiltskin asserts, nearly baring his teeth as he does so.  “I will be your right hand, Hades – if you spare my wife and my unborn child, never to trouble them again.”

          Hades tilts his head, studying the Dark One with amused curiosity as if he is some new species the deity has never seen before. “I’d be a fool to trust you for even a moment,” he replies coolly, “and I know you will only serve me as long as it takes you to find an escape.  Yet…” he takes a moment to muse as if there is no trouble or threat at all, Belle resenting all the while that he can balance all their lives in his hands while appearing not to have a care in the world.  Finally, he gives a quick, decisive nod, his pondering resolved. “If I’ve already gotten what I need from you by then, why shouldn’t I be free of your tiresome, disloyal presence?”

          Belle is sure there is some horrible drawback, some hideous fine print somewhere which has been missed – added to the fact that Rumple is bartering someone else’s soul for their safety – and she hates being forced to stand idly by, no one paying her any mind.  Her husband moves to shake the god’s hand, and she begs silently, regardless of whether either of them can hear, “No, Rumple, please don’t do this!  There must be a better way!”

          Without deviating from his original intent, Rumplestiltskin leans even more toward the Lord of the Dead, not allowing himself so much as a glance at her, solely focusing on Hades, alert for any move or threat from his dangerous adversary.  Their hands meet in between, as if to shake on the arrangement, and a burst of magical power so ground shaking shoots out sparks, tossing both Hades and Rumple apart. It topples Belle to the ground, momentarily blinded by the white hot flash and breathless from the impact, her awareness shattered.  For a time, she knows no more, and when she comes back to herself, she is lying on the moving floor of the library elevator they had taken down to Hades’ inner sanctum, and the door is sliding open to reveal the Underworld’s version of her beloved haunt.  As the lift reaches the top and halts, Belle sees that she is also utterly alone…

          A few scratching sounds and a thump against the outer door of the Storybrooke Library, followed by the sound of something metal picking at the lock, the doorknob rattling, and an accented male voice calling her name hopefully, before the tell-tale sound of the lock clicking free, awakens her just a couple of hours later, still early morning, but light now.  She hears the sound of more than one pair of booted feet striding toward her as she blinks dazedly and surfaces from the flashback-dream and her tormented rest. Shooting upright quickly, hoping they haven’t seen her pathetically asleep where she fell, Belle nearly loses her balance and topples off the stool she’d been perched on.  Wincing at the pain in her lower back from sleeping in such an awkward position, Belle tiredly rubs her eyes and tries to focus on her early visitors.

          Only a second later, she registers Killian Jones’ voice jovially greeting her as he walks toward her across the open entryway and also hears the low, warm chuckle behind him from Liam, his revived older brother.  She had been introduced to him as they were all working together to leave the Underworld, but she has not had much occasion to be around him since, and so she is surprised by his seemingly easy good humor, and the sparkle in his eyes that much resembles the one she’s often seen in Killian as they’ve researched some Big Bad threatening the town or discussed favorite books over lunch.

          Startled, she lets hesitant brown eyes come to meet his friendly, open gaze and gives what she hopes is a welcoming smile as she teases Killian in hopes of keeping his usual perceptiveness from picking up on her disheveled, unhappy state.  “What brings the Jones brothers to my library at the crack of dawn?”

          Killian flashes her a devious wink, before nodding his head to her briefly in a playfully slight bow, “Ah, but wouldn’t you like to know, Lass?” he teases.  His voice is bright and jovial, and there is a happy twinkle in his ocean-blue gaze that has been absent in many instances where she has seen him appear dazed or haunted since his return to life and the world above.  She simply has to return the mischievous grin – happy for this former enemy who has become a true friend, proud of him (though it may not be her place) that he has found the strength Rumple never quite mustered to change for the better, make right the wrongs within his power to mend, and became the man he was always meant to be.

          Tilting her head to study both of the men before her with friendly curiosity, she begins checking in the small stack of books Killian has carried in with him to return.  Liam meets her eyes but doesn’t speak, his smile warm and friendly, but his general bearing more restrained than his younger brother’s.  They certainly resemble each other – well-formed, strong features, straight noses and piercing eyes – but Liam is a bit taller, slightly broader of shoulder, and with fairer hair beginning to grow out enough to show curls that Killian’s straight, dark, shaggy locks don’t possess.

          Deciding to get to know the intriguing man before her a bit better, Belle chooses to ignore Killian’s baiting and glances at his older brother from beneath lowered lashes.  “And what about you?” she asks softly, “Do you enjoy reading as much as Killian does?” For some reason she has to fight a tremor in her voice as the words leave her mouth, and a thrill of nervous awareness racing up her spine as Liam Jones’ lips angle up into a fuller smile.

          “Aye, Mrs. Gold, I do indeed,” he replies, with a succinct, definite nod of his head as he steps closer, right up to the counter of the circulation desk between them, while Killian wanders away into the stacks to look for new volumes.  “We share our love of the written word, ever since I first taught him to read when we were boys, though Killian has always tended more toward daring adventure tales, epic fantasy and the like.  I’m a bit of a history buff myself – love learning how kingdoms rise and fall and how leaders are formed.  There is much to garner from such real events that have come before.”

          Belle bobs her head in an excited nod, warming to the topic as she leans over the counter, absorbed by his words in spite of herself and forgetting the pain and confusion of the dream vision to a more pleasant topic.  “I know exactly what you mean!  There are so many good records, biographies, accounts of battles, journeys, and expeditions – it’s amazing to learn what that must have been like, to imagine traveling alongside such great adventurers when such momentous enterprises were being undertaken.”  She pauses to draw in a breath, having begun to speak quickly in her excitement. Amusement shines in the look Liam Jones levels at her across the desk, but understanding and a sort of relief that intrigues her glows from his expression to warm her as well.

          Belle makes an impulsive decision in that moment, wanting to share something she still loves and finds joy in with someone else who has weathered and survived much and clearly loves it too.  Moving to stand quickly, with the intent to take Killian’s brother to their nonfiction section and show him some of her favorite tomes, Belle forgets for a moment how much her subtly widening stomach throws her off balance and pitches forward as she slips off the stool, then cries out softly as overcorrecting to catch herself pulls at her back painfully.

          Liam is around the counter and at her side in an instant, one hand on her arm to steady her, the other coming to rest at her waist.  “Steady on, Lass.  Easy there,” he murmurs with soothing concern.

          Killian darts back out from where he’d ventured, good arm full of novels and brows pinched together with worry.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?” he asks.

          Belle shakes her head, offering Liam a grateful smile, even as she blushes in embarrassment and also feels warmth flood her at his contact with her body.  She tries to calm both of them – conscientious, old-fashioned, chivalrous gentleman through and through – and step away.  “N-nothing.  I’m fine. Just lost my balance is all. …Th-thank you though, Captain Jones,” she adds sincerely to Liam.  Unthinkingly, she raises her hand to her neck which feels cramped and stiff as well, wincing slightly before she even realizes.

          Killian, observant as ever and an especially intuitive friend when it comes to her, notices her moving gingerly and guesses at her sleeplessness, speaking gently as he touches his metal appendage to her shoulder and impels her to look back up at him simultaneously.  “Still not resting, Love?” he asks, already seeming assured of the answer.  “You’ve been sitting at that counter all night, haven’t you?”

          Sheepishly, the tiny brunette dips her chin to her chest in the slightest of nods, feeling even smaller under the concerned scrutiny of these two tall, strong former naval officers.  It isn’t worth denying the fact; Killian already knows the truth. She had confided in him long ago, even before their trip to Camelot, her sleeplessness from a broken heart.  He is certainly astute enough to realize that the organ is now only more broken.

          What startles her however, is his proper older brother’s reaction.  In interactions, Liam has always been friendly but reserved; now, he ushers her forward, an arm coming around her waist to guide her toward the reading lounge she has set up by the windows and into an overstuffed, comfortable chair. “Milady Belle, sit, please. You’re with child.  You must take care of yourself.”

          She doesn’t fight him, letting him lead her to the seat and settling into it with an actual sigh of relief.  And he surprises her again by kneeling before her and grasping her delicate hand in his much larger one, enveloping it completely. There is an open, earnest look on his face that both soothes and puzzles her as he gazes up into her face and asks her if there is aught else they can do or fetch for her.

          Liam himself doesn’t understand what has come over him as he looks up into the weary, hurting face of this lovely but lonely young woman.  All he is certain of – and he knows he will speak to Killian about why she isn’t sleeping, what she has been through – is the concern for her he feels.  He wants to find out why she is so sad, and to find a way to make it better.  His resolve is firm, even if not fully understood, and he senses the beginning of a new mission, a new adventure.

Link to Chapter Two: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/2/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Three:  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/3/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Four: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/4/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Five: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/5/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Six: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/6/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Seven: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/7/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Eight: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/8/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Nine: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/9/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Chapter Ten (Epilogue): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12138837/10/Looking-for-a-Heart-that-s-not-Walking-Away

Tagging a few who may enjoy (sorry if not, or if you’ve already read it, but thought even previous readers might want to see its new art! ;) : @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @winterbaby89 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @effulgentcolors @aloha-4-ever @winterbythesea @hollyethecurious @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @ohmakemeahercules @shireness-says @resident-of-storybrooke @spartanguard @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @vvbooklady1256 @xemmaloveskillianx 

[oldmythos]

May I prompt a shance roommate au where they're in college together? They're both freshmen that are a little older than the others cause they started late, Lance because he was working to support his family, Shiro because he was in the military. Maybe Lance catches Shiro having a nightmare or something? Sorry this is so long, I love your writing!

Prompt fill for my Follower Celebration!

Okay so @crazy-indigo-child is a freaking BADASS BETA WHO MADE THIS 8000x BETTER @paladin-pile gee, I wonder who prompted this.

Lance knew that he didn’t have to be awake at two in the morning, knew that the article he was currently trying to get through wasn’t technically required reading, but his brain kept telling him he needed to finish it. He needed to be able to understand this garbage about the phylogenetic relationships between human and animal viruses and their role in evolution because if he didn’t understand it, what was he even doing here?

He started the paper over again. He could at least get the abstract under his belt before going to sleep. That was the least he could do.

The apartment was quiet as he started the first sentence once again.

The study of molecular genetics has produced a considerable body of research into the sequences and phylogenetic relationships of…

He sighed, feeling the concentration and understanding slip from his mind once more. He took a deep breath.

This time he got a paragraph in before he lost it. It was too late, and he logically knew that there would be absolutely no ramifications if he didn’t finish it. It wasn’t even extra credit, it was just related to their current studies. He just— he needed to get through it. He needed to prove to himself that he could get through it.

He rubbed his eyes and stood up, walking to the shitty, tiny, dirty kitchen.

Coffee.

Coffee always helped.

He yawned as he filled the kettle and placed it back on the stove and filled the french press with coffee. Hunk had insisted that french press coffee was easier, cheaper, and better, and Lance didn’t care enough to argue. He leaned on the counter while he waited for the water to boil.

He wished he could just blast dance music like he had at home whenever he was tired, but college was different. Neighbours were closer, here, and roommates were sleeping. God only knew his roommate didn’t sleep enough, what with all the five AM showers and running and late nights studying along with Lance. The earbuds currently blasting Shakira into his brain gave nothing but a tinny, weak replication of the feeling that could only be provided by a nice speaker injecting the bass right into his chest.

He looked around the kitchen. There were no dishes in the sink, all neatly put away, but neither of them really had any time to deep clean. He wrinkled his nose at the crumbs stuck in the grout and rings in the sink.

Before he could do anything, the kettle set out its light whistle. He pulled it off the stove before the sound could get any louder.

He loved this part, and Lance pulled out his earbuds for it. He loved watching the coffee swirl up as he poured the boiling water over it, the little sounds of bubbles forming and popping up at the surface.

Only four minutes until coffee. Sweet.

He grabbed a brush and started on the grout, phone and earbuds forgotten on the counter.

If he had popped them back in, he wouldn’t have heard it, but as soon as the soft whimpers hit his ears, his head perked up.

His brows furrowed in confusion. They were on the fourth floor, it couldn’t be a stray dog outside. Maybe a neighbour? His roommate?

Oh.

Lance knew that his roommate had gone through some shit. You couldn’t look at him and not know that. He held his prosthetic in his pocket at all times, and just walking down the street, you wouldn’t even notice that his right arm was just a bad imitation of the real deal, but there was no getting away from the massive scar running horizontally across his entire face or the white hair.

They’d only been living together for a few weeks and Shiro had been nothing but pleasant. He cleaned up after himself, paid the rent on time, was good to watch TV with. He just wasn’t very talkative, and that was okay with Lance, he did enough talking on his own. He had told Shiro about every single one of his siblings, about the years taking care of them while his mom was recovering, about every funny and annoying little thing they did.

Shiro never talked about the military. Ever.

The whimpering got louder and Lance thought he was starting to hear words.

He put the brush in the sink and wiped his hands on the dish towel. His little brothers and sisters had nightmares sometimes and he knew how to deal with it for them. One brother like to be pulled directly into a hug, one liked to be sung awake, one liked their hair stroked.

Shiro was different. Shiro was a grown-ass man who had seen more than Lance hoped any of his siblings ever would. Shiro was built like a brick shit-house and Lance had no doubt that in his prime, Shiro could kick just about anyone’s ass without a second house. It didn’t matter that the man was a pure teddy bear; if Shiro was waking up from a violent dream, there was a chance he could get violent. Lance knew this and was willing to take the risk of his own safety, but he already knew that the mild-mannered man would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt anyone.

Lance stood outside the door, listening to the voice get louder, words still indecipherable through the wood, but the mumbling and whimpering turning into shouts.

Lance cracked the door open to Shiro, still in his long pajama pants and long sleeved shirt, tied right where his arm left off. He was sweating and tangled up in the sheets, trying to thrash them off.

“No,” he murmured, “jus’ lemme go, please.”

When Shiro’s voice turned into a broken shout on that last word, Lance’s heart fell.

Singing. He could sing. His sister liked it.

“I messed up tonight, I lost another fight,” it didn’t matter what he sang, it never did, it just needed to be soft. He could make Shakira soft.

“I still mess up but I’ll just start again, I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground,”

Shiro seemed to still be listening to his dream, faces pulled tight, jaw straining and left fist clenched as he pulled at the sheets.

Lance kept singing, kneeling at Shiro’s side, the man’s room impeccably clean, the carpet soft on his knees. He liked to think that the singing was helping, that the shouting was getting quieter and the strain was lessening, but if that was true, it was barely perceptible.

He moved on to the next sibling’s favorite nightmare technique, singing the whole time. He was hesitant, hand hovering over Shiro’s hair. He didn’t think you were supposed to touch people in violent nightmares, right? He didn’t even know Shiro that well, maybe he should just go.

Shiro let out another pained whine and Lance swallowed his doubt, threading his fingers back through Shiro’s fringe.

The response to this one was immediate. His entire body stilled, and not necessarily in a good way. his entire body froze, muscles tight. His breathing didn’t even out but the sounds stopped. Lance’s hand paused for a moment, but hey, this was better, so he kept going.

“I won’t give up, no I won’t give in, ‘till I reach the end, and then I’ll start again,”

Shiro’s eyes slowly opened, staring straight at the ceiling, and it was only at that moment that the tears escaped from his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath, forced even breaths through his mouth.

Lance sang and stroked his hair as Shiro obviously tried to pull himself together. He could see the moment that Shiro really realized what was happening by his sudden push to an upright position, Shiro catching Lance’s gaze and pulling his knees up to his chest, backing into the headboard.

“‘m so sorry, Lance, did I wake you up? I didn’t—” he wiped the tears from his eyes, “I didn’t mean to wake you, I promise it won’t happen ag—”

Shiro was cut off, suddenly held, his face shoved into Lance’s shirt. It was immediately dampened by tears and Shiro pretended to push away for a moment before melting into the hug.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Lance’s shirt.

Lance nodded. “Want to talk about it?”

Shiro shook his head violently into Lance’s chest. Lance just held him tighter.

“I made coffee, want some?”

Shiro nodded and pulled away.

“I’m really sorry, I try to not let it be a problem, but…” he drifted off.

Lance grabbed Shiro’s hand and tried to catch his gaze, averted to the blankets. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t know what happened, but it doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to hurt.”

Shiro nodded again and scrubbed his hands down his face. “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“They’re right.”

Shiro swung his legs out of the bed and felt the carpet between his toes. Lance pulled him up and on the way to the kitchen, he left their fingers interlaced.

I love these AUs so much, make sure you keep an eye out for my next milestone celebration, it may have to do with all of these. 👀