#once again one of those hyper specific thoughts

[theshadowrealmitself]

Everyone playing some kind of spirit for a village festival and Naruto ends up being just a lil too believable as a mischievous sun spirit getting woken up by the loud festival and refusing to go back to sleep, that even people who know 100% that all the “spirits” are just ninjas volunteering to make the kids happy are squinting their eyes suspiciously at him

[aireia]

from the stars did your kindness bleed through. — you are a spy, he is a sorcerer, a student in the very place you plan on betraying, but he doesn't know that, because he'll fall for you, the same way you fell for him.

tw/cw: reader referred to with she/her. angst with little fluff. hurt no comfort. spy! reader. spying. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. suicide/ self harm. death. injuries. lowercase intended. author's first language isn't english. wc: 7.5K

note: riko told me to rival her 6.2k word fic, so i'm pulling up with this. (i got carried away) —masterlist

entry snippet, september 5th.

gojo introduced us to a new student today. she seems a little bit like me, but she isn’t, at least that’s what our unreliable teacher told us.she hasn’t interacted much with itadori or kugisaki, even after their pestering. i’m guessing it’ll take a while for her to get used to the new faces. not that it concerns me anyway…

the sun didn’t shine very brightly the next day. grey clouds covered the skies, the winds were getting colder, the once green leaves on trees were turning into a mixture of yellows and browns. winter would be approaching in just a few months, which meant they’d soon have those nights again, where they’d get permission to stay at each other’s dorms and have sleepovers while trying not to burn the kitchen down by making ominous hot chocolate for each other.

that morning when the trio walked into class, they were greeted by you absentmindedly staring out the window at the falling leaves. no concentration to any surroundings, considering you didn’t even look at them when they came in. yuji was the first one to say something, loudly greeting you a good morning, followed by your name, hoping to catch your attention.

you looked over to the trio, trying to take note of their expressions. 

itadori yuji, who seemed excited, waving with his arm in the air and a grin as if you were worlds apart and you wouldn’t have seen him if he didn’t.

kugisaki nobara, who waved with a smile on her face. the perfect mix of crazy and calm, you think.

and finally, fushiguro megumi, who had his arm raised in an attempt to wave, but instead looked like he was raising his hand to answer a question. his expression showed nothing, something between irritated and ‘why am i friends with these people again?’ 

he reminded you of yourself… in a way. probably not what you were thinking about him, but something about him. maybe it was keeping interactions at minimum with people he didn’t know much about… yea. you’ll keep it at that. 

the hyper duo had walked up to your desk before you finished processing your own thoughts. itadori slammed both his hands on your table, causing some of your things to vibrate upon contact. 

“so, y/n, where are you from? what grade are you?” he asked.

“i’m from osaka, and i’m a semi second grade sorcerer.” lies spilled from your mouth easier than when you breathed around them the day prior. being a spy meant having to detach your identity as a person, which also meant having to create layers and layers of lies about who you actually were. 

right before the cheerful boy managed to get another question in, the door of the class flew open, and gojo walked into class with nothing but happiness and positivity surrounding his aura… he was about to send all of you on a mission. you knew, even if it was just a gut feeling.

a loud clap followed by details of a new case confirmed your suspicions. a simple investigation in shinjuku about an unidentified curse that had caused deaths and disappearances of innocent civilians, as well as injuring numerous others.

“i’ll be leaving the rest of the details to our trustworthy assistant director ijichi! he’ll be waiting for you at the entrance.” gojo finished his ‘speech’ before hurrying all of you out the door.

-

“that gojo…” ijichi silently sighed before beginning the mission brief. 

“your task is to only collect information from the residents in a specific area of shinjuku, mainly the offices around schools.” ijichi stopped speaking, only continuing after a brief period of silence. “If you happen to run into any high grade curses, please don’t try to challenge it.” 

“my heart can’t take this type of stress anymore…” ijichi sighed.

the four of you began the mission shortly after, around 10am in the morning. you began by questioning some of the residents. a lot of them seemed nervous the moment anyone in your group mentioned the curse, some even running away from you. most of them didn’t have any information either. 

when noon rolled around and your efforts weren’t bearing any fruits, the four of you decided to split into two groups. nobara with yuji, you with megumi. after the split up, you and megumi continued the search for anyone that might have had any type of intel. you never expected him to speak to you first.

“l/n, right? let me be straightforward about this. why did you join jujutsu high school?” 

“to spy on you, obviously,” but you couldn’t say that.

“to help others,” another lie slipped past your lips.

“...did principal yaga actually let you pass the interview with that answer..?” 

“no, but i doubt you’d want to listen to the speech i memorised to get in. he told me to stop before i finished it,” you sighed, remembering the amount of struggle you faced a few days before the interview. you had to ensure you had a 100% chance of getting into the school, or you would’ve been a failure as a spy. who the hell failed a mission before it even began?

megumi looked at you with a bewildered expression, though quickly shook the look off his face as you approached an ice cream vendor near one of the high schools. 

“recently, less and less people have come by to buy ice cream. a lot of those were kids who would come by to get a sweet treat after school, so i have noticed quite a few of those disappearances.” the vendor placed his fingers on his chin, thinking of the customers that he enjoyed speaking to, even if their interactions were limited.

“alright. thanks for your time,” you expressed your gratitude, even though the things that the vendor had said had helped you in your investigation in… absolutely no way possible.

just as you and the raven haired boy walked away, your phones rang. a message from yuji, reading, “we ran into one of the victims that managed to escape the cursed spirit!! apparently most of the victims are people who’ve lost or cut contact with their parents. they won’t tell us anymore about it.”

“that’s vile,” you thought to yourself. 

“we should meet up with them and report back.”

-

“so, what do we do now?” nobara whined out of boredom. ever since reporting back, there hadn’t been much to do. you all had a free day, but nothing to fill said free day with.

“we should go watch human earthworm 4!” 

“no.” nobara and megumi said in unison, wanting to avoid the movie at all costs. 

“oh! y/n, we should go shopping together!” nobara suggested. and somehow against both yuji and megumi’s wills, you had all been dragged to go shopping.

nobara suggested that she helped you get a new wardrobe, which ended in you trying on multiple sets of clothes. nobara insisted that you got them, and forced megumi to carry your shopping bags even though you said it wasn’t needed and felt bad that he had to help.

the rest of the day went by with a blur, and you exited the mall after the four of you had a few photos taken in a photobooth. 

“my child…” everyone was walking in front of you when you heard that voice. it sounded oddly familiar, and it was calling out to you. you whipped your head around to look for the source, but there wasn’t anyone there. the call of your names continued, and you strayed from the group to look for the source of the sound. 

you were almost one hundred percent positive that it was the curse you had investigated the other day. why was it targeting you? and no one else in the group seemed to hear anything either. 

eventually, you were led to an abandoned building. you could feel the cursed energy leaking from it, and there was a very pungent smell coming from the abandoned structure. you briefly wonder how no one has flagged the place for an investigation yet. maybe it was, and was ignored. who knows?

the voice continued to lure you closer to the building, eventually getting you into the building and up the slippery stairs, wet from the leaking pipes around the building. your footsteps echoed in the building, the sound of your breathing in your ears. 

you walked up to a room with a closed door. a heavy stench seeping from the gaps of the door, even worse than when you were in front of the building. maybe coming here hadn’t been your best idea, but you were already this close, so why stop here? 

you exhaled deeply before twisting the rusty knob open. you saw the dead. blood and corpses were by the spirit’s legs. its claws were digging into the flesh of the innocent, shaking the body as if trying to toy with it more.

the report you submitted was done a week ago, and the incident started way before this. these bodies had been rotting for weeks at least. assuming the cursed spirit in front of you killed all the people around it, you were going to be next. 

you entered a defensive stance, hand on the handle of your weapon, ready to fight if it pounced on you. instead, you watched as it slowly turned its head towards you and walked towards you. your body tensed, but it didn’t seem to bear any hostility. 

it held its hand out, taking one of your hands, and you found yourself unable to move. even when you screamed at yourself to get out of the way, you found yourself unable to resist as it dragged its fingers along your wrist, a thin line of red bleeding out.

“l/n, step back!” the familiar voice snapped you out of whatever trance you were in before the spirit in front of you was hit with a few nails. 

“you’re just like fushiguro. you really should tell us more about yourself, you know?” nobara sighed, holding her hammer over her shoulder. “oi, i’m the one who noticed she disappeared in the first place,” megumi grumbled. you looked at his hands. 

so that’s how they found you.

“if anything, she reminds me of when you first came to the city, kugisaki!” yuji chirped in, seeming laid back even in this situation. he turned to look at you. “you aren’t hurt anywhere else other than your hand, right?” you shook your head.

you looked at the spirit on the ground. it was a first grade at most, but it had been weakened significantly, probably even before you arrived. it wasn’t long before you exercised it, with some degree of resistance. 

as the three of them prepared to leave, you walked towards one of the dead bodies and crouched down, placing your hand over them. 

while yuji and nobara had already left, megumi was curious about what you were doing. you got up and exhaled when he asked. “i don’t know if it works on those who’ve already passed, but usually, my cursed technique allows me to grant people on the verge of death a better demise.”

“it overrides the brain and erases any and all memories they have in exchange for peace, and a painless goodbye.”

“those two are probably waiting for us. we should report back.”

-

when you got back to your dorm, you took the picture out and stared at it. more people that you couldn’t be friends with, but they had saved you earlier… maybe you’d get it framed just to decorate your dorm.

you looked at your injured arm, which had been bandaged, and closed your eyes. 

yuji itadori is physically gifted, a guy born with a set moral standard. his mental game is easily shaken, but that might change in the future. he has a ton of room for improvement. that’s what makes him scary. 

nobara kugisaki is strong-willed, a woman born by the countryside. she cares for others the way she cares for herself, and doesn’t like showing her affected mental state to the world. she’s strong in her own way, and that’s just the type of person she is.

-

weeks passed by quickly. you continued gathering as much information as possible, while growing closer to your classmates. yuji often told you to cover up for the pranks he pulled, nobara would invite you out to go shopping with her, and you and megumi enjoyed reading together.

one morning, you saw megumi sitting by the benches eating alone. right, yuji and nobara had recently been dispatched on missions. you realised early on that you preferred to be with megumi out of everyone. 

maybe it was his personality that drew you in? the both of you were paired up on missions often, so maybe the fact that you were partners helped develop your trust in each other… when he shouldn’t be trusting you at all. or perhaps it was the way he put you first instead of himself. 

megumi is a selfless person that might not seem caring at first glance, but actually does in his own way. he holds back a lot, and has a mind matured enough to compare to that of a man twice his age, though lets loose around people he can truly find comfort in. that was the conclusion you came to about his character. 

you walked towards him, hoping to be able to make small talk with him. instead, you were called upon by someone right before you got to him. 

-

“so this is the location?” you and megumi had been informed of a cave infested with multiple third and fourth grade spirits. your job was simple. take care of them and go home. 

“yea. be careful,” you said, gripping your weapon tightly. 

you and megumi stepped into the cave, almost immediately registering that there was something wrong. a veil was lowered. were such low grade spirits capable of such a thing? you gulped and looked around. just the herds of lowly graded cursed spirits around. no signs of anything else.

“be careful.”

the both of you managed to make quick work of the spirits. a few scrapes, sure, but you were overall uninjured. now, there was only one problem. every last spirit in sight had been exorcised by you and megumi, but the veil wasn’t lifting. something was still there, and you both knew. 

something in your senses clicked. “fushiguro, jump out of the way!” you screamed at him. there was something underneath you, and megumi had dodged just quick enough to not be drilled and split into two halves. 

a drop of sweat rolled down the side of megumi’s face. how would he deal with this? his first thought was to have you distract it while he attacked, but that would probably be useless and would put you and him in too much danger. 

“fushiguro! focus!” megumi lifted his head up, and you were in front of him. you had blocked a direct strike for him. he needed to concentrate. this wasn’t like the spirit you had dealt with at the abandoned building, where it showed little to no hostility, and had been weakened.

“are you back in your game yet?” you breathed out, the tiredness from blocking the attack and dealing with the earlier curses starting to kick in.

megumi took one look at your expression and hummed. there was something about it he couldn’t read, but he can’t let his thoughts consume him now.

you aren’t allowed to die here. 

the both of you observed the curse for a little longer while simultaneously dodging its attacks. it primarily dug underground to attack, which made it hard to predict where its location was. the only warning sign was the rumbling of the ground before it drilled back up, which made it just a little easier to dodge. 

it could blast balls of pure cursed energy, and with each dodge meant the interior of the cave was crumbling. you’d have to look out for falling rocks and stray boulders. 

its weak point was probably somewhere other than its head, considering it used it to dig into places. 

you shot glances at each other before megumi summoned his demon dogs to attack it from behind. “i have your back.” 

you and megumi took turns switching on offence and defence. the one on offence would deal attacks to the cursed spirit, while the one on defence would watch out for oncoming attacks and destroy any rocks that were falling from the ceiling of the cave. 

the plan worked well for the both of you. the uncertainty of when the both of you would switch out confused the curse, making it more vulnerable to your attacks. once you felt that the curse was confident on when you’d switch, you and megumi delivered one final attack to it together, letting it fall with a thump. 

“is it over?” you heaved, your hand over your chest. a sudden realisation hit. the veil hasn’t been dropped. that meant– 

“l/n, look out!” megumi pushed you out of the way before he got hit by a shot of pure cursed energy. you hear the sound of his body smashing against the rough walls, and his coughing afterwards. you looked towards megumi and briefly saw him cough blood out. you’re hoping he didn’t take the impact head first. 

you narrowly managed to escape another blow just when your eyes snapped back onto the weakened, but still active cursed spirit. it can be exorcised in a single blow. 

you rushed towards it and drove your weapon through its body as hard as possible, twisting, and slicing right through it. it’s as good as dead. you stared at the splatters on the floor that used to be a cursed spirit. you don’t have time for this. 

turning your head away from the remains of your enemy, you focused your attention to megumi who was bloodied and injured. he was resting against the stone walls of the cave, and you could hear his heavy pants and breaths. you gulped and looked at his leg. it had stopped bleeding, the crimson now staining his leg.

you ripped a part of your uniform before crouching in front of megumi to tend to the wound. your eyes showed almost no emotion in the face of the situation, yet your trembling lips gave yourself away. you weren’t supposed to care for them, and yet here you were helping one of your targets. 

you only spoke up once you finished bandaging his wound with the makeshift bandage.

“why would you do that?” you had unintentionally let your emotions slip. megumi looked at you tiredly. “just returning the favour. i would’ve gotten hurt if you hadn’t blocked the attack at the start of our battle.”

“fushiguro-” you started, quickly being cut off by megumi. “i know what you’re about to ask me,” he coughed a few times before he continued to speak. “you’re assuming i’m going to die? you’re cruel, you know?”

you tried to find words to speak, yet all you could say was a “no, i’m not,” turning your head away to not meet his gaze.

“i would kill myself if i died on you now,” he confessed, closing his tired eyes. 

“and besides, you’re all i really want to think of right now.” 

megumi went completely silent afterwards, and you heard soft breathing coming from him, compared to the heavy breaths from just a few minutes prior.

the next time he awoke, you were asleep, your head in your arms by his bedside. he felt a little sluggish, but his wounds had been properly bandaged and he was fine, aside from some soreness. you on the other hand, looked exhausted. there were creases on your forehead as you slept, and dark circles under your eyes.

there was a plate of food wrapped up on his nightstand, with a note stuck to it. “we make a good team.”

only after did he learn from shoko that you had completely gone against her instructions of two days of bed rest, and spent the time taking care of him instead. 

-

“you still couldn’t have brought something more digestible?” megumi eyed the three of you, who had brought pizza to him. something that probably wasn’t nutritious enough for a patient in recovery.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll help myself!” the pink haired male took a slice of the pizza and began feasting on it. “oh, and since we’re already here, let’s just have our sleepover at fushiguro’s!” “itadori, talk after you’re done eating!” nobara shuddered at the sight of the food in his open mouth, while megumi looked as if he were about to kick everyone out of his room.

“we are not having a sleepover in my room,” megumi said in a deadpan voice, though the annoyance was evident on his face. “we can’t have it anywhere else because you aren’t permitted to leave your room, fushiguro,” you joined in on itadori’s suggestion.

“hypocrite,” megumi thought.

“alright it’s settled, we’ll have it here!” nobara clasped her hands together in victory, earning a sigh from megumi. “i still haven’t agreed to this,” he grumbled.

-

december 21st.

it’s cold outside. the temperatures have dropped significantly ever since the day you stepped foot into jujutsu tech. currently, you, alongside two of your classmates, were camping in megumi’s room. you had to admit, with so many people, the room considered spacious for one person became cramped.

you were sitting on megumi’s bed with a mug of hot chocolate in hand as you watched nobara and yuji fight over what they wanted to put into each other’s drinks. you found their sibling dynamic entertaining. megumi on the other hand, looked at you with softness in his eyes. the both of you had grown a lot closer compared to the first day you met. you were grateful for that.

maybe not in the right way, but at least you knew he was your friend, right?

the night went on with both chaos and comfort. yuji had suggested playing cards at one point, and he lost just about every single round. monopoly was going great until megumi somehow dominated the game so hard that the banker had to borrow money from him. 

“i’m telling you fushiguro, it’s just this once! i’ll pay you back!” “you’ve said that about three times, itadori.”

you certainly weren’t in any place to laugh, and neither was nobara, since the both of you were basically hanging onto a thin thread, and if by any chance you landed on anyone’s property other than your own, you would’ve been out of the game from bankruptcy.

but you laughed anyway.

the night ended with all of you (except megumi) in your respective sleeping bags with extra blankets in case it got cold. it was quiet. too quiet, even with yuji’s snoring and nobara’s breathing. maybe that’s why you couldn’t fall asleep.

you slowly sat up, careful not to make too much noise. you looked at the clock on megumi’s nightstand. 11:47pm, thirteen minutes till midnight. 

“can’t sleep?” a quiet and soft voice invaded your ears, and you looked over to megumi. he was lying down on his bed, staring out into the bushes and trees, which had been covered in a thin layer of snow. as a response, you shook your head and got up to sit on his bed. the both of you sat in silence for a while before you spoke up. 

“fushiguro, you like the stars, right? wanna go stargazing on the roof?” 

“are you crazy? it’s freezing outside.”

“we can use blankets.” 

“have you forgotten that my leg’s still injured?” 

“i’ll carry you up.”

that was how you found yourself sitting on the rooftops with a thick blanket around your shoulders. the stars shone brighter tonight. the cold winter wind that breezed by you every once in a while made you shiver. you looked up at the moon, it was full tonight. although the moon didn’t have an expression, you were sure it was smiling down at you and the raven haired boy sitting next to you.

come to think of it, even without exchanging a lot of words, you’d argue that you were closest to megumi out of all your classmates. when you first met him, you saw him as the moon, someone like yourself. yet you realised over the months that if you had to describe him, you’d have to say he were the stars. so pretty, yet disregarded by many as something outshone by the moon. 

“y/n,” megumi’s voice broke through the comfortable silence, and you looked over at him. he had a small smile on his face. you felt him shuffle closer to you. maybe it was getting cold? the wind was getting stronger, afterall.

“yes?” megumi looked at the moon once more, then back at you. “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” the words reached your ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “and what of the sunset?” you questioned him back, feelings hidden behind your eyes and the convincing smile you put on your face.

“the sunset? i dislike it. the rays of the sun blind me too much for me to appreciate it as much as others do.” the sound of your soft laughter reached his ears again when he finished his sentence. “is that so…” you rested your head on his shoulder and looked towards the skies, some of the stars now covered by clouds. “really? i think the moon is beautiful too, but i’m the opposite. i prefer sunsets over moonrises.” you continued, one of your hands inching closer to him and eventually resting on top of his hand.

you exhaled deeply before lifting your head up. “fushiguro, what time is it?” he looked at you with confusion before answering. “a little bit past midnight, i’m guessing.” “oh.”

“may i kiss you?”

your question caught megumi off guard. it was expected, considering it came out of nowhere. a familiar warmth creeped up his face, and the hand on top of his now seemed to weigh heavier as you looked at him, awaiting an answer. he slowly nodded, and you leaned in to press your lips against his. the kiss was short and sweet, the light of the stars shining down upon him as you did.

“fushiguro-” 

“don’t call me by my last name.” you smiled when he said those words. 

“happy birthday, megumi.”

-

nobara eyed the both of you suspiciously, looking you up and down. “you guys could at least try to keep it down when you’re climbing onto the roof. i need my sleep,” 

“i thought i was being quiet. my bad,” you apologised sheepishly. the brunette looked clearly annoyed before she sighed and let it go. 

“sorry,” megumi said to you. “why are you saying sorry?” you shot him a confused look. 

“we would’ve been quieter if you didn’t have to carry me.” 

“oh, thaaattt,” you dragged your words out. “don’t feel bad. you were worth it.” 

“how about you come with me to the cliffs sometime? maybe in the next few days? there’s a great view of the ocean and sky from there, and it’s more secluded.” the invitation fell from your lips before you even processed it. 

a rare smile appeared on megumi’s face. “alright.”

“what are you two doing?! we have a mission soon, hurry up!”

-

he kept to his word. you and megumi ended up going stargazing together so often that yuji and nobara started questioning if you were going on dates. to them, it was blatantly obvious that you two liked each other. hell, even the both of you knew. it was just that none of you had confessed yet. 

megumi always felt warmth when you guys would go together, pointing out constellations and shapes of the clouds when you did. 

you on the other hand, felt the spark between you grow stronger the first few times. you tried your hardest to suppress the rising guilt. afterwards however, you spiralled deeper and deeper into the guilt you felt as a spy. you were never supposed to fall in love with him, and yet you couldn’t help but do exactly that. 

you wanted– no, needed to get rid of your feelings for him. you would never want it, but you’d need it in order to get over him.

you began growing more distant. it was hard, slowly excluding yourself from hangouts and ignoring them more and more, day by day. you felt terrible. every second away from them felt agonising. you’d push them away, dismissing their help. 

the fact that they noticed your distance made it feel even worse. you were going to betray them, and everything you had built up for four months, their trust, friendship, it would crumble.

you’d complete your mission and switch identities again. anyone you’ve met here won’t matter anymore once you disappear. that’s what you reminded yourself.

-

january 25th.

“oh, you’re here,” you approached megumi from behind, sitting down beside him. the skies were dyed with violet and orange hues, the sunset that megumi had once described to be too bright. 

“i was waiting for you. you’ve been quite distant lately.”

“i thought you said you hated the sunset?” you asked, changing the subject to avoid the question. “don’t try to change the subject, y/n. answer me, please, tell me what’s going on.” you could hear the alarms in your mind go off. you wanted to get up and run away. hell, you should’ve never succumbed to the burning feelings in your heart over your mind. 

“it’s really nothing. i’ve just been more busy lately, i guess,” a lie rolled off your tongue again.

megumi sighed. he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t want to push it. “you said the sunset was pretty. i thought the other day that maybe it was because i never took the time to appreciate it, but…”

“hm?” you hummed, looking at megumi. 

“i still can’t see why you like it that much. i still prefer the night skies better.” 

the soft laughter you let out afterwards had goosebumps pricking on his skin. he watched as the light of the sun glowed on your skin, and you looked at him. “i personally prefer the sunset…”

“but if you like the stars that much, i’ll be sure to hate the sun and love stars the next time i’m reborn.”

a light shade of red appeared on megumi’s face, and he turned to look away from you. in reality though, he’s glad. there’s the girl he fell in love with. “you don’t have to do that. we can like what we want.” 

“and i want to be able to truly love the stars.” you said, your tone sullen. 

night fell not long after, but there was no moon that night. the waves underneath you didn’t seem calm either. it was especially cold this winter night, and you and megumi found yourselves bidding goodbye to each other in front of the dorms earlier than you expected. 

mental entry, january 25th.

i wasn’t planning on seeing megumi at the cliffs today, but he was there. i was planning on spending the last day at jujutsu high alone. megumi and i really are alike. It’s a fault on my part, i guess. i grew too attached to them.

i don’t want to do this anymore.

you gulped, and just before he was out of earshot, you called out to him, grabbing his attention. he turned around to look at you, only for you to mumble a “nevermind” before quickly apologising and running back to your dorm. you couldn’t bear to tell him.

megumi was confused. why’d you suddenly call out for him? he decided not to dwell too much on it and went to bed. and the more he thought about it, the more he felt as if he had lost the chance to speak to you about something important, because you disappeared the next day.

you stopped going to classes, training, and you weren’t responding to texts either. any calls were immediately sent to voicemail, and other than the picture that the four of you took at the mall months prior, which was framed on your nightstand, your dorm had been completely emptied out.

megumi was the last person to see you.

the week following your disappearance, it was raining every day. although the higher-ups had confirmed to have launched an investigation for you, megumi was sure that they were looking into things much deeper than just your status as a missing student. he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

the first day you were introduced to them, he felt that you were different in a way. was this connected to it? 

the higher-ups had also told the first years to not worry, and that they’d take care of it. as if they’d ever listen. they had discussions every single day about where you might’ve gone, if you were okay or not, and why they couldn’t see signs of this earlier. 

they got confirmation shortly after that there were no signs of cursed energy from your dorm. it was as if you had never existed, and had it not been for the pictures you’d taken together, along with the texts you’d exchanged with each other, he probably would’ve believed it.

-

february 26th.

JUJUTSU HEADQUARTERS NOTICE

one, y/n l/n has been confirmed to be sharing confidential information to third party sources. she has hereby been expelled from both jujutsu high and the jujutsu realm as a sorcerer. 

two, the penalty of the crimes committed by y/n l/n is death. the execution will be carried out promptly.

three, second grade sorcerer megumi fushiguro will serve as the executioner for y/n l/n’s death penalty.

-

a full month after your disappearance, a notice was released by jujutsu headquarters. 

megumi’s head was pounding. he had just returned from a meeting with the higher-ups, and throughout the entire time he was in front of them, he wished for nothing more than for whatever you were accused of to be false. he was hyperventilating, his face in his hands. megumi swore he heard loud footsteps outside his room before loud knocks echoed through his room. 

 “fushiguro, open up!” the familiar voices of his classmates rang in his ears. no. as much as he wished to find comfort in his friends, he didn’t want them to see him in such a terrible state, so why did his legs move to help him stand and walk towards the door?

megumi doesn’t know whether to regret or to thank his decision of opening the door. his mind couldn’t register that it was yuji who placed his calloused hands on his shoulders and told him to snap out of it. even when they questioned him for details about you, whether he knew about your intentions, and if it was the reason you had grown distant the few weeks before you vanished, he answered vaguely. all he could think of was that it was over. you’re gone, and you’re never coming back. 

megumi wanted to run into the pouring rain and let it wash his soul away so he wouldn’t have to face reality. he wished he’d wake up and realise it was all just a dream, and he could still see your face when he walked out of the dorm in the morning. he remembers the words of the higher-ups so clearly, he was to carry out the execution without delay. he wants to be selfish and give the responsibility to either nobara or yuji, yet the better part of him stopped him from doing so. he can’t do that to them. for once, megumi wished that he would stop loving you.

that night, megumi had trouble falling asleep. he found himself tossing and turning in bed, his head constantly clouded with the many things that would follow this incident. it felt like hours before he managed to go to sleep. 

-

he saw you, right there by the cliffs. you were looking at the sunset again. now that he thought about it, how many of the things you’ve told him were lies? 

megumi walked towards you, standing beside you as he watched the sunset with you. 

“megumi, i understand why you dislike the sunset now,” you said to him, earning a puzzled look from him. “i thought you loved the sunset?” he asked. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks reached his ears, and you turned your head to look at him. 

“it really is too bright. it doesn’t suit me.” you replied. 

“megumi, have you regretted it yet?” you questioned him back, and he gulped. “regretted what, exactly?”

“us.” 

megumi wanted to say yes. he did regret it. he regretted that he loved someone whose purpose was to eventually betray and leave him. yet, his answer was stuck in his throat, and he said he never did. not for a second did he feel that you weren’t worth his time. he looked towards the horizon, where the sun had now fully set, then at the sky, where the moon was supposed to be, and finally, back at you.

“you made me fall in love with the moon.” you chuckled at his answer.

“i thought you loved the moon from the start.” a brief silence ensued. one that felt comfortable. something he couldn’t feel for the past month when you were brought up.

“would you let me substitute the moon in your sky?” your voice pierced through the silence, and he responded almost instantly.

“always.” 

a content smile appeared on your face. “i’m glad.”

megumi’s eyes fluttered open, the sun shining in his eyes. the male rubbed tried to rub the sleep in his eyes away, only to be met with a damp feeling. tears? what was that about? his mind was hazy, and he swore he dreamt, but he couldn’t remember what it was about. 

he could remember the curve of someone’s lips. yours? yea, it was. even if he went through hundreds of lives, he doesn’t think he’d mistake someone else’s smile for yours.

he didn’t have time to think about that. through the hours of lost sleep, he had convinced himself he was ready to serve his role as an executioner, and he had a feeling in his gut he knew where you were already. at the place he had refused to visit. his mind told him that you had been going there every single day, waiting for him.

-

“you’re finally here.” megumi could feel his heart clenched as he heard your words, and the eerie silence that followed creeped him out. you had a smile on your face, arms behind your back as you looked at him. 

“why aren't you moving?” you turned your body to look at him and spread your arms out. “you need to do your job, megumi.” the smile on your face dropped when you noticed he wasn’t going near you. there were no signs that his shikigami were active either.

one step, two steps, you walked towards him instead. a part of you felt as if you were walking towards your death. you felt him flinch when you used a hand to cup his cheek. his skin felt cold and slightly damp to the touch. he had been sweating. you looked down. his blade was just inches away from your stomach.

you took his expression in, and you couldn’t help but hold back your laughter. megumi’s eyes widened when you suddenly laughed. he felt guilty for loving it. was it genuine? or another one of the things you did as a spy to toy with his feelings? 

“megumi, you’ve grown attached too, huh?” it only dawned on him then that you felt just as guilty for everything you were. 

“do you know what would’ve happened if you sold us out?” megumi spoke with poison laced in his tone, and a lump formed in your throat. “the world would’ve weeped for your sins, y/n.” your expression dropped completely. “i know that better than you do, and here i am, giving you a chance to end my life. yet, you’re hesitating,” you retort back.

“so hurry up already.” you looked at him with sharp eyes, looking for any signs that he might finally give in to the orders given to him. megumi’s hands trembled as he tightened his grip around the handle of his sword. “it’s not that easy to just…” he groaned loudly.

“megumi, do you want to know why they chose you to execute me instead of anyone else?” you sighed and stared directly into his eyes. “they knew i would have resisted had it been anyone else but you.”

your hands went to wrap around his. then, you slowly pry his fingers off his blade and inspect it for yourself. “you sharpened your blade. were you hoping to finish me off in a single strike?” megumi almost choked on air in response, and nodded.

your eyes softened. “how nice of him,” you thought. 

“how about this?” you stepped further away from him and pointed the sword at your skull. “i’ll be the one to carry out my own execution. then,” you pointed your finger at him. “you won’t have to bear the burden of killing me.” you could hear megumi’s heavy breaths. it seemed that reality had yet to crash into him when he first found you here. “megumi,” you whispered as you took one final look at him, “i think you know better than i that i wasn’t trying to give you an option.” you gripped the sharpened blade and winced at the pain as your hands bled, then flashed him a quick smile before you slashed your eyes.

you groaned, holding back the scream threatening to release itself in an attempt to sooth the pain in your eyes. you had no right after all the hurt you’d caused. you couldn’t open your eyes. it hurt like hell, but you didn’t want to see the look on his face either. you convinced yourself it was worth it. 

megumi felt as if he were frozen during the entire duration of your encounter with him. what was he doing? he was spiralling into his own thoughts, and here you were, handling your own execution because he was too much attached and too much in love with you. 

every nerve and muscle in your body seemed to scream at you as you gripped the handle of megumi’s sword tight. even then, your ears couldn’t mistake the heavy footsteps of your beloved as he ran towards you just as his blade pierced your abdomen. his scream rang through your ears when crimson spilled from your wound.

ah, it seemed that blinding your eyes wasn’t enough to keep yourself from thinking of his panicked expression and guilt ridden face.

then, everything went black. you weren’t sure how long you were out for. a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes? your entire body stung, as if you were laying in a tangle of thorned roses. one thing was for sure, you were dying. 

you felt something soft under your head instead of the grassy surface the rest of your body laid on. “megumi…?” your voice sounded tired and hoarse. “is that you?” there was a brief period of silence that made you doubt his presence, but a hum from him confirmed that he was indeed still there. a smile tugged at your face even through all the ache.

“i can’t see right now. look up.” megumi looked up, and realised today was the beginning of a new moon. he could barely see anything. “could you tell me what the moon looks like?” 

“a blood moon. it looks as if roses had bloomed on the moon.” liar.

“it’s not good to lie, megumi. but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“very.”

you didn’t exchange any words to each other for a period of time after that. by now, your breathing had calmed down, and everything around you seemed hot and cold at the same time. something in you told you to let go of your consciousness, and another part wished you’d stay awake longer to feel megumi’s touch. be a little selfish, you told yourself. 

you shakily reached your hand up towards the skies. you balled up your fist, a part of your childish mind hoping you had caught a star.

megumi could hear his heart thumping in his chest, and he pulled your body closer to him. he thought to himself, even if there had been that satellite in the sky, his moon was going to stop shining soon. he couldn’t help but wonder if the stars in your sky had burnt themselves out. 

maybe all of them, except for the one that willingly let the moon outshine it.

“y/n, can’t you use your technique to give yourself a better death?” megumi asked, his hand supporting the weak, quivering fist you held up, his thumb brushing your knuckles.

“i can,” you replied back without hesitation. 

“but i’d have to erase everything that’s in my mind. and besides,” you flashed him a pained toothy grin. 

“you’re all i really want to think of right now, megumi.” 

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

fun fact: i actually invested sm into this fic i made sketches of the one of the curses

[the-s1lly-corner]

hi! if you're feeling up to it, may i request tadc cast reuniting with the reader after escaping the digital circus? (not sure if caine would work though, sorry caine fans ;_;) tysm! btw, A+ gif choices :>

Reunited! (TADC cast x reader!)

Except Caine <|3 I kept putting this up because I uh uh

Kinda kept forgetting <\3 I'm so sorry anon 😭😭

This ended up more so being what you guys get up to after reuniting in the real world!

Written on mobile!

POMNI:

Sure she may have wanted to escape the digital world... a lot... but she never thought she would actually escape, and with everyone else too..! So that's nice! Imagine her shock when by pure chance she runs into you. More so shocked than anything, but relieved.. she was so tied up from being free again that she didnt realize how much she missed you.. it feels.. weird holding your real body.. but it's not unwelcome!

JAX:

Honestly the hardest thing for jax is to tone down his whole.. asshole thing, because people in the real world arent trapped in a space. Actually it would be this reason that you almost dont recognize him..! Woah jax not being an ass for once? Thats not your man!!!!!

As for feeling stuff... oh boy I think I mentioned somewhere that hes a clingy shit behind closed doors, or maybe that was a hyper specific request.. but get ready to have to carry this dude around for a few hours

RAGATHA:

I know I mentioned this. a few times but I love the idea of ragatha and her partner opening up a little bakery together. I can see her being into baking plus I think it fits her aesthetic; if she didnt get into Doll making and stuff... ponders... tearful reunion for you two, ragatha cant help but get a little touchy when she realizes it's you.. though she awkwardly pulls away and apologizes for that.. please hold her and dont let go

KINGER:

Its.. nice... I already have two teary reunions in this post.. hmm.. I don't think kinger would cry. The way I can describe it emotion wise is when you find an old trinket from your childhood. Nostalgic, maybe? I think he takes the longest to build himself back up to where you guys were in your relationship.. the trauma (which realistically they all have, however I think so far at least its hit kinger the worst), losing his possible wife (queener/queenie), reconnecting with his kids (I hc he had at least one kid!!), ect ect

You guys are going to have to take it slow, you know? I have a second request with this prompt for kinger so imma go more into that there!

ZOOBLE:

Writing this down first before I forget but you guys open up a body mod shop together. Piercings, tattoos, ect ect ect. Idk zooble just kind of gives off those vibes, and I feel like you guys would do that together. You guys move in a.. longish..while after reuniting in the real world and confirming who you are to one another.. it's not so much as zooble wants to make sure it's really you, its more so zooble needs time to get used to the real world again + they're cagey about their space !

GANGLE:

Another tearful reunion, she cant believe it's really you. She really thought that she would never see you again... but you're here..! Similar to jax, shes going to cling right onto you and not let go.. you guys hand out nearly everyday for the next few weeks while you try to sort things out, perhaps quickly moving in together

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hello Darlings 🌻

So I received a Nonny message asking for clarification regarding Zelda’s situation in yesterday’s post. While I am always glad to answer Nonny messages, please keep in mind that I do not have the ability to answer those asks privately as I would if you sent them off anon. While I totally understand why y’all use anon, it does limit my ability to address them, especially for more sensitive or personal questions.

However, I still wanted to resolve this question as yesterday’s post comes from a very personal place, and perhaps for that reason, I do want it to be clear moving forward. While I think subsequent posts may do that, in case they do not, I will also answer it here.

That said, I will be doing so under the cut because it involves a more in depth discussion of Zelda’s situation in yesterday’s post. So if that post is as far as you would like to go on this subject, please stop reading here.

No, Zelda did not have a miscarriage. Nor did she just “not become pregnant.” Zelda and Antoine have more or less been trying to get pregnant for a year, and she has continued to get her period month after month. Let me make something abundantly clear, I am in no way minimizing the pain of having a miscarriage, nor ignoring how that could have been the conclusion of that post. However, I am specifically writing about a different experience with one’s fertility and how that can affect one’s mind in its own way.

I am clarifying this because it is its own, albeit deeply related and sometimes simultaneously experienced, pain. That is because many people will view it as “you never had anything to lose” or “there was never any traumatic event to be upset over.” It is a slower pain, damn near constant; that comes to you in cycles as you follow your own so closely.

As many women who have tried to get pregnant can testify, the hyper awareness of one’s fertility can be overpowering, as you restart each and every month, planning your life around the best time to try and conceive. Then once that passes, you search your body for every little sign to tell you whether or not you succeeded. But still, there’s nothing you can do but wait.

There’s a very specific line in that post that sometimes Zelda was late enough to make them think she had conceived. Imagine there is no pregnancy test, and all you can do is hope that every time you look down, you haven’t started your period. Even if it’s “just” one day, or a few hours, you do it every single time. Every single trip to the bathroom becomes a high stakes moment because if it’s there, then you “failed”, and you have to start all over again. Until sooner or later it eats away at the excitement and hope you felt when you first began the process.

It is exhausting and Zelda’s statement that “she is broken” becomes an almost inevitable thought as it happens over and over and over again. Meanwhile there seem to be countless examples or even other women telling you that it should be easy or that all you have to do is relax. Even worse, you’re told you have to “keep trying” because nothing “bad” has happened, has it?

There are countless women in this position, and if you are or have ever been one of them, my heart goes out to you. That is why I wanted to clarify this before we proceed any further in this story, because this is a very intentional experience I am writing about and I don’t want it to be misinterpreted for that very reason.

[hangmanssunnies]

Sfumato

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: Loving Jake Seresin isn't difficult but accepting that he won't ever love you back is. So you have to decide if what Jake does give you is enough. Can you with it? Can you love him enough that it fills the gaps in between? After all, how much does a confession really matter? At this point, you're pretty sure it can't rival how it feels to help Jake paint coyotes flying planes.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 23K

Playlist

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Abuse (Implied and mentioned), confrontation with the abuser (mentioned), Child abuse (mentioned), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles (mentioned), Rejection, Drinking, Lying, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.

Authors Note: I am not sure what to say about this. I agonized over this for 8 drafts, and now I just I hope you enjoy at least some part. Thank you for your patience in waiting on this second part. Coyote and Hangman BFF supremacy.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

++++

It wasn’t that your attempts to convince Jake to be yours weren’t going well. It’s just that they didn’t seem to make any difference. You baked his favorite dessert which ended with the two of you dancing in the kitchen together to a slow song he had thrown on the record player. Just when Jake had been about to kiss you, his phone rang, and it was work so he had to take it. 

Another time you had been sitting with him in the garage, while he worked on your car. Jake had been wearing overalls, and you found it so hard to think that before you knew it you were pressed as close to him as his sharp elbow would let you, asking how you could help. If Jake hadn’t been covered in grease, and dirt you would have kissed him right there. Again, it just didn’t seem like the right time. These moments kept happening so frequently you had practically given up at this point. You decided that you two would happen eventually. You just had to keep doing the small stuff, so when the time came you would have plenty of supporting evidence for your case. Enough evidence that it would be impossible and illogical for Jake to not want you back. 

“Sugar, would you mind helping me out?” You hear Jake call out.

“What’s up?” You call back to him already standing from the couch and walking towards the laundry room. Jake smiles widely once he spots you near  the doorway. 

“Would you mind taking those upstairs?” He asks, nodding towards a pile of towels and sheets. 

“I absolutely cannot do that for you,” you tell him, sounding dead serious. However, you are already gathering the laundry up in your arms, earning a laugh from Jake. 

“Can you just put them by my sink? I would do it but,” he gestures to the heated-up iron he is holding. 

“No problem, Jake.” You tell him. You make your way upstairs with the laundry and into Jake’s room. It is as clean and tidy as it’s been all the other times you’ve seen it 

Although when you step into Jake’s bathroom you have the sudden realization you had never been in there before. It’s clean, of course, which is no surprise. You set the towels and sheets down on the counter. As you turn to leave, something catches your eye and makes you gasp: Jake has a bathtub. 

He doesn’t just have a normal bathtub, no, it’s a large luxurious looking porcelain claw foot bathtub. The walk-in shower and double sinks don’t even catch your interest after you’ve seen this. Almost immediately, you are flying out of Jake’s room and down the stairs, sliding to a stop by the laundry room’s doorway again. 

“You good?” Jake asks, confused by your sudden reappearance and slightly elevated breath. 

“Jake, you have a bathtub!” 

He nods his head and looks confused. “Yeah, and?” 

“Why did you keep it a secret from me?” 

“I thought you knew.” He responds with a small shrug. 

“I had no clue.”

“Honestly, I rarely ever use that thing, but I keep it clean. So, anytime you ever want to take a bath you're more than welcome to go right ahead.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah of course. I got Epson salt, some soap that’s supposed to make bubbles, and those bath bomb things in that chest next to it. Which, please use.”

You want to ask why Jake would have all those things if he isn’t a bath guy. The answer seems obvious to you though which doesn’t make it less of a stab to your heart. The only thing that’s better than a bath after all is a bath with someone else. 

“You wouldn’t mind?” you ask him, double checking. 

“No, Ma’am. You go right ahead.” 

“Thank you, Jake!” You exclaim walking to his side. You make sure you’re careful of the iron’s cord, so you don’t trip. Jake is leaning downwards waiting for his cheek kiss before you even reach his side. You place a quick soft kiss there. 

“Anytime. There’s also a speaker under the sink if you want music.” Then he starts ironing again, and you linger at his side longer than necessary enjoying his closeness. 

Just after you leave the laundry room and start down the hallway Jake calls after you. “Yell or text if you need anything.” 

Jake’s bathtub is just as nice and luxurious as you had anticipated it to be. His chest of bath items had a much wider selection than you were expecting. It was just like Jake to be over prepared with all the variation.  

You soak to your heart’s content, and you are fully relaxed before getting out of the tub. After that and your post bath needs you throw on some lounging clothes and head downstairs again. You feel warm and happy. You wonder if you’ll be able to coax Jake into cuddling with you on the couch. 

It normally doesn’t take much effort on your part. An offhand comment that you’re cold, or telling Jake he will really like the show you are watching with a pat on the seat next to you. Oftentimes it won’t take any effort at all, you simply just make yourself close and Jake would naturally gravitate to your side. 

When you get downstairs though you pause, hearing a dripping sound. Following the sound to the downstairs guest bathroom you gasp at what you find. There is a huge bubble in the ceiling with water dripping out. Luckily enough it’s mostly dripping into the shower. However, it looks like the rest of the trapped water could burst at any moment. 

You stare at the compromised ceiling as if keeping a watchful eye on it will prevent anything from happening. And you yell out “Jake!” 

You don’t hear anything, so you yell again a bit louder this time. “Jake, I need help!” 

 You hear a door slam just as Jake calls out for you. “Sugar?”

“In here,” you call back. 

“Are you okay?”  Hangman asks as he comes down the hallway. His eyes scanning your body closely looking for anything amiss. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. Then you point to the ceiling. “That, not so much.” 

Jake’s follows where you are pointing to the bubble and water in the ceiling. He lets out a low whistle, at the sight.  

“Well, this definitely isn’t great news,” Jake says. He sets his palm on your back to gently urge you to the side to enter the bathroom. His chest still brushes against your side as he passes. 

He starts to look more closely at water bubble. He pokes it experimentally and the whole things reacts by sloshing and shifting. 

Jake hums and steps back around you in the doorway. As he does it, he doesn’t even seem fully conscious of the choice to press a kiss to your brow while muttering a low thank you. You turn and follow his retreat with your eyes. When he comes back from the garage with various tools. Jake steps around you again but you don’t make any attempt to shift for him. He doesn’t seem to mind brushing so close though. 

“You might want to move, darlin.” Jake says to you this time. You have to make an effort not to pout when you aren’t gifted a kiss as he passes. 

“Why? What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to cut open the drywall, well wet wall now, and let the water out.” Jake chuckles at his own joke, clearly pleased with himself. “It’ll probably get messy.” 

You heed Jake’s advice and step backwards out of the doorway planting yourself in the hallway instead. You watch as Jake cuts a hole in the ceiling over the shower and the water releases in a rush. Once most of the water has drained, Jake investigates enough to determine that there isn’t an active leak occurring. Just as Jake predicted he is dirty now, soaked and covered in wet drywall. 

“Okay that’s fine for right now. Sweetheart, can you bring me a towel and a change of clothes? So, I don’t track so much of this gunk everywhere. 

“What do you think caused it?” You ask him while turning to the laundry room and grabbing his requested items. When you come back to the bathroom Jake has stripped down to just his boxers. 

You try not to let your eyes wander. You see Jake scantly clothed around the house less than you have fantasized when you first moved in. He is almost always fully dressed. Really the only times you saw him shirtless was days he went on extra-long runs in the mornings. He would come inside heated sweaty with his shirt draped around his neck. 

Those sightings were always so early in the mornings though. They were always tinted with glowing, sleepy haze, sometimes making a question if you were still asleep, and this was just another dream. 

Right now, there is nothing deniable about the way his body is on display, and by the time you force yourself to be respectful and focus on his face. Jake’s smug smirk tells you he has absolutely no shame or ounce of self-consciousness in him about this aspect of himself. The way you were staring doesn’t seem to have bothered him either. That bottom lip of his tucking in between his teeth, almost taunting you. 

You ignore the bloom of desire in you and hold out the towel first. Jake rinses his hands and forearms off in the sink before grabbing the towel.  The fact that it’s disrespectful only bothers you the tiniest bit while you watch him clean up. You don’t say anything the whole time or when you hand him the change of clothes, too worried it would break the spell. 

Jake catches your eye while he is dressing. The way he stares at you is so intense, it makes goose flesh prickle on your arms. You had always known how charged and heated taking clothes off was, but you had never imagined that putting them on could be just as much so. 

“You didn’t hear a thing I just said.” Jake says.

“Hmm?” You hum.

“You know why I call you Sugar?” Jake asks you breaking the silence while he takes the plain black t-shirt you are holding and pulling it over his head. 

“Because you can take the boy out of Texas but not Texas out of the boy.” 

“Hey, I ain’t no boy unless you’re putting cow in front of it,” Jake says, and it’s a tone that more than borders flirty. He has been doing that more lately, flirting with you outright. You are still stuck deciding between if he actually has become receptive to your efforts to impress and entice him, or if he has finally wholly become comfortable with you around so he isn’t so strict on his filter. 

“Oh of course Jakers. I’m sorry,” you say dramatically. 

“I can’t stay mad at you,” he says affectionately. His thumb grazing your chin tilting your face. “No, even though we both know I’m a Texian through and through. But the reason?  It’s because you are so sweet to me. Sweeter than sugar honestly.” 

Jake’s voice takes on an almost musing tone. His hand drifting and settles on the side of your neck. And you want to melt, his words repeat over and over in your brain melting any other thought. Your own hand reaches up and grips his wrist almost tightly. Mostly as a way to ground yourself because you feel like you might float away, and partly because you want to hold Jake in place scared that he will pull away. 

“Maybe I should be calling you honey instead. I might like that even better.” Jake continues. His thumb swipes across your pulse point and your breath hitches. 

“Which do you like better? Sugar, or Honey?” He asks you purposely and slowly drawling out each word. Part of you wants to back out of this interaction before it can tread into any more dangerous waters. However, this is just the kind of moment you wanted and were desperate for; times that gave you a glimpse Jake might have some sort of want and need for you. 

“I like both those just fine. However, there is a third option which I would like most.” You respond after thinking over the two pet names. 

“Cupcake?” Jake guesses. 

“Nope.” 

“Sunshine?” 

“What are these callsigns?” You ask him playfully. That earns you a small chuckle and Jake inches even closer to you. 

“Darling?” 

You hum in appreciation but shake your head. “I do love darling, but not what I’m thinking of.” 

“Fine, I give up. What is it?” Jake sighs admitting defeat. You have the word ‘yours’ ready to say it’s there on the tip of your tongue finally about to be out in the open. 

However, before you can there is a creaking ripping noise as a chunk of the wet drywall falls and slams hard and loud onto the floor below. Jake is turning to asess the situation while simultaneously gently urging you behind his frame in a quick reaction. It’s yet another moment that sucks all the tension out the air. The ones you and Jake can’t seem to avoid running into at inopportune times. 

“Jake, this isn’t something we can ignore. We should call the landlord to come out and fix it.” You say peering around his shoulder to look more closely at the mess that’s been made. 

“Oh, don’t worry too much, Darlin. I will take a look at it in the morning.” Jake says with a shrug putting his hands on his hips. “It needs to dry out anyways.” 

“I know that you are capable and can deal with it. But this isn’t something you should have to bother with.”  You explain to him. 

“Yes, it is. Who else is gonna do it? I ain’t paying someone to fix this when I know I can and have the time.” Jake says, shaking his head at you with a laugh. You stare at him a bit confused and then suddenly you feel a realization start to dawn on you. 

“Jake, I’ve got a question.”

“What’s up?”  Jake’s hands are on his hips, and he takes a few steps back into the bathroom towards the hole. 

“Who is our landlord?” You ask cautiously.  

“We don’t have one.”

“We don’t?”

“No, sugar.” Jake says, peering at the hole thoughtfully. 

“How is that possible?” You ask. 

“I own the house.” He says it in a duh voice, like this is something you should know. 

You snap your mouth shut, your teeth click together and stare at him.  It is your silence or the intensity of your almost glare that tips him off and Jake looks away from the damage in the ceiling to you. You meet his green sea glass eyes, and his eyebrows draw close together a frown pulling the edges of his lips down. You slowly shake your head and back away from Jake out of the bathroom. 

“Sugar,” he says soothingly. He takes a small step towards you, but you continue backing up quicker. Once you hit the hallway you spin on your heel ready to book it back to your room. Jake catches up to you on the top of the stairs clearly having taken them three at a time. 

“What’s wrong?” Jake calls after you. 

“You never needed a roommate. Did you Jake?” You ask him desperately hoping you’re wrong about the story you’re building in your head a mile a minute. 

Jake's eyebrows lift up his forehead but the way his eyes cast down to his toes and his tongue darts out to wet his lips you don’t even need to know his answer, it’s evident. 

“No,” the word is finally uttered. You have to squeeze your hands tightly into fists to release some of the hurt at hearing it confirmed. It’s like everything around you is shifting but you are frozen in place helpless to watch it change. Your perception of who Jake is threatening to bend with it. 

“So, I was a pity project to you?”

“What? No. It was nothing like that!” Jake denies. 

“Javy told you about his wife’s poor sad friend who was down on her luck, and you couldn’t help but jump on the chance to play savior. Wanted to be a big macho hero. That’s what you live for isn’t it, Jake?”

He stops looking shocked, and you see anger at your words spark up in his eyes instead. You are glad; You want to make him as angry and hurt as you are feeling right now. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” Jake responds in almost a condescending tone. You are almost shocked he didn’t throw a nice bless your heart on top of it. 

“No, I wouldn’t actually!  I don’t want to be seen as some fucking damsel in distress. I didn’t need saving.”

“Yes, you did!” Jake cries back throwing his hands upward. The knot that forms in his jaw when he clenches it appears as he grinds his teeth in frustration. 

“Wow,” you laugh shaking your head. You turn to go to your room needing to get away from him. 

“Wait, listen. Please.” 

“I don’t want to listen to you right now, Hangman.” 

“That’s not very fair,” Jake huffs at your answer.  

“Is it an apology?” You ask, turning to face Jake once more while standing in the doorway to your room. 

“No. It’s not.” Jake responds. You can hear the annoyance in his voice which just makes you feel angrier. 

“No?”

“No,” Jake confirms. His fists are clenched so hard at his side that his knuckles are white. “I would never let anyone stay in the situation you were in. There isn’t anything wrong with getting help getting out.”

You stare at Jake wide eyed he had never been this direct with you before. He never brought up you past or why poked at why you moved in. Not even after your dad had shown at the house and he refused to reference any of it. So, it’s startling to have it open in front of you both. Jake not pretending that he didn’t know or wasn’t aware anymore. Jake pulls his hands through his hair making it stand up at awkward angles. 

“Listen you can be mad at me. That’s fine, but don’t be mad at Javy and Marlee. They only wanted you to be safe. We all just wanted you to be safe.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

“Why would that matter?” Jake asks coldly. Then after a few beats where you don’t say anything he continues. 

“I was never more thankful in my life than when I was able to move away from my father. How the hell could I have stood by and left you in that situation?” 

You start a little bit in surprise at his words. Only able to breath out a quiet, “Oh, Jake.” 

“I don’t care if you don’t like it. I don’t care if you feel like it was pity or a handout. I don’t care that you’re mad. I wouldn’t change it. It was the right thing to do,” Jake says steamrolling forward ignoring the hand you reach out towards him.  

“My feelings never mattered then?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I shouldn’t have to explain to you that the thing I care about, before anything else, is that you are safe. Once someone’s safe there is time and space to deal with everything else.” 

“How can I feel safe with someone who lied to me?” You ask him venomously. 

A soon as he fully processes your words Jake recoils in hurt. It’s what you wanted but you don’t feel any satisfaction from it. Jake looks disappointed as he shakes his head at you, which makes you feel even worse. Then with a sharp nod and grimace he tries to play off as a smile Jake spins on his heel and goes down the stairs. 

You go into your room shutting the door securely. Then you lay on your bed and try not to cry. Trying to think with any sort of a clear head proving impossible. You can’t stop wondering how you let such a nice night turn so sour. You are also plagued by thinking over every moment you have had with Jake looking to see if there was a layer of pity to him that you had just been oblivious to. 

The next morning you feel extremely nervous to venture out of your room. You had lived on egg shells before, and the feeling was sickening. The anxiety of the situation crawled up your throat strangling you a little bit. You and Jake have never had anything even close to resembling a fight, or whatever you wanted to call what had happened the night before. Despite the nausea gnawing at you, by mid-morning you finally work up the courage to venture down stairs. 

Cautiously you look around, but you don’t see Jake in the living room, dining room, or the kitchen. So, you tiptoe into the kitchen to look for food. Standing there you hear music coming from the garage. It takes you several more minutes to hype yourself up enough to peek into Jake’s workspace and confront him. 

As you open the door and step out the sound of rock music immediately envelopes you, your eyes scan the area until they land on Jake. He is measuring a sheet of drywall, making marks on it with a square pencil. 

If he noticed you enter the garage, he doesn’t indicate it in any way, continuing the task. You make you way over to one of the comfy Ergonomic Camping Chairs that Jake had set up in the shop. Sitting there waiting you are unable to take your eyes off Jake. The garage which was clean and orderly yesterday in now a whirlwind mess. Both your vehicles have been moved out presumably into the driveway, Materials for at least three different projects are strewn out. When Hangman finishes drawing the outline of where he is planning on cutting, he finally looks at you. 

Tucking the square pencil on his ear, Jake turns the volume of the speaker low. He doesn’t say anything, just leans back against the workbench and looks at you. While waiting his fiddles with the toothpick sticking out of his mouth. When Jake flips it before biting down again you decide you're going to have to say something first. 

“Good morning.” 

“Morning,” He responds tersely. 

You don’t know what to say, so silence descends again. Jake remains perfectly still waiting, the only movement is the occasional wiggle of his toothpick. You look at the wall behind him seeing it covered in new taped up project plans and half-finished sketches. 

“Can we talk about it?” You ask cutting through the silence again. 

Jake crosses his arms over this chest but nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, we should. If you feel up to it.” 

“So, you always knew why I needed to move?” 

“Yeah. Javy and Marls told me in not so many details. They knew I had a lot of extra space, and that I would never let anything happen.” 

“So, the three of you were conspiring behind my back.”

“Conspiring,” Jake scoffs in a sharp sarcastic tone. “We got you out of an abusive situation and home. We are such assholes.” 

“The point is you lied to me. You didn’t think I would want to know you owned the house?”

“You never asked,” Jake says, defending himself. 

“Typically, people like to know they are living with their landlord, Jake.” You snap back and rub your face tiredly. 

“It didn’t seem like it mattered. I’m not your landlord anyways. We are friends.”  

You consider his words and suck a breath in through your teeth. “Please tell me what I'm thinking is wrong.”

“What are you thinking?” Jake asks. 

“That you have been giving me an outrageous discount while living here. How when you told me to pay less in rent you were already subsidizing me living here.” 

Jake’s lips tighten and he holds his gaze past your shoulder. If you weren’t watching him intently you would have missed the small nod. 

“Are you at least using my rent to pay any of the mortgage?” Jake’s bottom lip tucks in-between his teeth for a moment and you know he is preparing to lie to you. Exasperated, you warn him, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“It’s been going into a high yield savings account I set up for you.” 

“Jake!” 

“What? I don’t need your money. Plus having a strong savings and an emergency fund is important.” 

You groan loudly and cover your face. It was ridiculous. It was honestly so hard to stay mad at him when he was like this. How he was caring and sweet but going about it in the wrong way. 

“I’m moving,” you say, throwing your hands upwards. 

“Why?” Jake asks, his eyes widening in alarm. “Because if it’s about the money that’s a stupid reason.”

“I’m not running away from anyone anymore, and while I appreciate your kindness, Jake, but it’s time for me to go.” 

“You won’t find somewhere cheaper.”

“Apparently not, when I haven’t been paying rent at all!” 

“Have I been a bad roommate?” Jake asks, he has that same look on his face as he does when he is trying to palace a particularly confusing puzzle piece. One he would often wear when he broke out the magnifying glass, he kept in his puzzle chest. 

“No, you’re a good roommate.” 

“What is it then?”

“Jake,” you sigh exasperatedly. 

“I need a reason besides money,” Jake requests. 

“It’s not just the money.” 

“Ah, Just. So, what else is it?”

It’s how you are embarrassed, it’s how you love him, ache for him. How Jake makes you happy to come home. “I still don’t understand what you are getting out of this. Isn’t your sense of honor bound duty fulfilled?” 

“Flew past honor and gentlemanly a long time ago, actually,” he replies slightly snarky. You roll your eyes at his answer. 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the syllables. 

“Sugar, there is something you just don’t seem to understand. You make everything better,” Jake is plain in how he says this. The sunsets in the west, otters hold hands when they sleep, and Jake Seresin thinks you make everything better�� It's that simple. 

You are stunned. You blink back at him owlishly trying to process his words. When you don’t respond Jake runs a hand through his hair pulling at it. 

“I did need a roommate,” he starts wanting to fill the silence.  “Having someone else here helps me. It gives me a reason to check the locks, use my shop, and talk to someone when I get home. I used to just sit here; you know. When I got back from the gym at night I would just sit alone, mostly in silence. Sometimes I would read, or do sudoku, other nights I would just stare at the wall waiting until it was finally a justifiable time to go to bed.”

That image is a punch in the gut. A quiet dark house, with a lonely quiet Hangman in it. You try to imagine what would happen when he enters a stress phase, but he is here alone, no one to reign him in, no one to tell Coyote that Jake needs help. Even if you’re hurt and mad, you love him. 

“Okay, Jake.”

“Okay, what?” He asks you. 

“I won't move, but you need to let me pay my share.” 

He grinds his teeth at your answer contemplating it. “Is that a deal breaker?” 

“Yes,” you tell him. 

“I’m sorry. It’s a no then.”

“No?” you gasp shocked. “You were just begging me to stay.”

“I will beg on my knees if you want. Money though? I’m sorry, Sugar. I won’t compromise on it.” 

“Why are you so difficult?” You ask. 

“Mama always said I was more stubborn than a mule. I can’t make my Mama a liar, sweetheart.” Jake says, he looks less sullen now that he seems to understand getting you to stay is possible. 

“We can’t have that can we?” You finally respond, deciding to give in. Jake whoops, and later once he wakes up from the nap you forced him to take, he doesn’t stop checking on you like he expects you to disappear. 

~~~~~~~

A few weeks later things seem to be back on track and normal between you and Jake. There was a full week where Jake seemed to be watching you nonstop, hypervigilant to everything about you. He has eased up though, and you were glad to have him at ease again.  

Jake had just finished his post morning run shower and come downstairs munching on a snack in the kitchen. You are on the couch and beckon for Jake to join you. Wordlessly, he bee lines to you only stopping momentarily to grab a blanket out of the blanket basket. Jakes sits next to you. He spreads the blanket over you first and then goes to tuck it over himself as well. 

However as soon as Jake does, he shoots up out of place, shoving the blanket off him. He flips it over and examines the underside. He frowns heavily at the white lining that doesn’t match the dark blue hyper soft outside. 

“What is this?” Jake asks you. 

“It’s sherpa?” you say looking at the blankets lining too. 

He reaches out to touch it again and it makes his nose wrinkle with a stern frown. Then Jake looks like he is at war. He eyes flick from your side to the blanket again. 

“What wrong?” you ask reaching out a hand for him and making a grabby hand. 

“I don’t like that,” he says waving to the fabric. 

You laugh at Jake, but it is born of pure affection. You refold the blanket quickly, and a bit sloppily and hand it back to him. “Then go get a different blanket.”

“We don’t have to.” He says. Jake is looking at the blanket as if he is mentally preparing himself to deal with the discomfort. 

“We have lots of other blankets, Jakers. I don’t care which one we use,” You wave back towards the basket. 

“No, no. It’s fine,” Jake insists. He starts to unfold and tuck the blanket around you again, not leaving any for himself. You frown at this choice, since it means no cuddles. 

“Jakobi Seresin, go get another blanket.” You order, push the blanket off of you as Jake is simultaneously pushing it off. 

“It’s fine. Just a blanket, I’ll get over it. ” Jake tells you sharply. You don’t think his frustration is directed towards you. You take a deep breath resisting the urge to flinch. 

“You don’t have to live in discomfort to prove a point,” you argue evenly. Jake sighs, your name exasperated. It’s such a rare treat for him not to fall into a pet name. It tells you that you need to press the point. 

“We should feel safe in our home. You’re always telling me that right?”

“Yes,” Jake confirms.

"Well, that includes being comfortable. So, you should be comfortable here.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable in our home,” Jake protests.

“I have a question for you.”

“Well then I imagine I have an answer,” Jake responds sarcastically, it was a known fact he hated when people asked if they could ask a question because that in itself was a question. 

“If I didn’t like this blanket, would you switch it?”

“Yes, of course,” Jake responds immediately. 

“Thank goodness,” you sigh, “Because I hate this blanky so much.”

He stares at you frozen. You wait patiently this time for him to react. Finally, after he has thoroughly examined every inch of you Jake’s frown melts away. Wordlessly, he trades the blanket out for a grey one in the basket. You watch him flip a corner to check the inside and make sure this one doesn’t have a lining. After confirming that he hold it up for you, clearly seeking your approval. You nod three times, and even give him a thumbs up. 

“I didn’t like how that stuck to my skin. It felt like it was a million tiny hands pulling at it.” Jake explains not embarrassed, because he rarely is, but something that shares a border with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know we felt that way about it.”

“I don’t think I did either,” Jake says unfolding the newly chosen blanket. 

"We," you correct him. 

"We think this one is softer anyways," he supplies. 

"Yes, we do," you agree. 

He is once again tucking the blanket, fluffing it around you comfortably before claiming his own half. Jake sits there a moment and then readjusts the blanket again evening out the sides a bit. He starts to readjust again, stopping halfway through, he harshly pulls the blanket balling it up tightly. Jake huffs frustratedly as he starts again. 

You patiently wait unbothered and unhurried. Simply content while he gets comfortable. Only humming sweetly each time he tucks your side of the blanket in. Once he determines it is even Jake sighs clearly pleased with the soft texture of this blanket. Jake sinks back, relaxing into the couch, and you notice the distinctive space he places between you. 

Since the two of you had passed into the realm of touch being an easy given between you, Jake hardly ever didn’t take the chance to lean into it. You watch him pick up his Sudoku book, open it up to a page stare at it for approximately 30 seconds before he closes the book and trades it out of the sketch pad he has on the table. Even as he opens his and starts working, he doesn’t lean closer. 

You tentatively reach over and rub his shoulder. “You good, Jakers?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” He responds, as his pencil scribbles along the notepad. 

His response feels short enough that you pull your hand away from him, even going as far as to scooch a little further away on the couch. You wonder why he even joined you on the couch, while you resist the urge to pout. After turning your show back on, you try to ignore the distance between you and Jake but it bothers you nonetheless. 

“What are you sketching?” You decide to ask him a little while later.

“You,” Jake responds without missing a beat. 

“Me?” You ask shocked. Leaning over, you see sure enough, Jake has sketched you. It is a flattering but accurate rendition, that is surprisingly realistic. 

“Oh wow,” you breathe. Jake hums in agreement moving his hand out of the way so you can get a better look. 

“Thank you, Jake. You created a very nice portrayal.”

“Art’s easy when your subject is so beautiful.” 

 You fight against the warmth that blossoms in you at his compliment. “Aren’t you a sweet talker.”

“It’s true!” Jake says. 

“If you say so,” you tell him. 

“God, I need to take you to a museum. I can’t believe you don’t believe me. You are prettier than any of those artist muses.”

“Is that what I am then? Your muse?” You ask him playfully. 

“You are absolutely my muse. Nothing inspires me like you do, sweetheart.” 

God, you could faint at Jake’s words or kiss him. You don’t do either though, instead you just lean into his space until he naturally throws an arm around you, letting you settle close to his chest. He glances down at where you have cuddled against him. 

“Is this okay?” he asks gently. At first you aren’t sure what he is talking about. However, when you feel his arm start to shift from where it’s wrapped around you catch his wrist holding him in place. 

“Yes, always okay.” You tell him. Jake does still move his arm out of your grasp though. You feel confused, trying to consider if you have crossed any of his boundaries. Physical touch and affection was so natural and commonplace between you two that you didn’t even really give it a second thought anymore. 

“Is it okay with you?”  You ask checking in. 

“It is, but only if you are okay with it.”  

“Not really how that works,” you tell him.

“That’s always how it works between us,” Jake says. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Jake.” 

“I won’t,” he tells you with conviction. 

“Do you promise?” 

“I promise,” Jake says, kissing your forehead. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a small kiss to his clothed chest. You try to disguise it by leaving your face there, breathing in Jake’s scent. 

He doesn’t comment on it. Jake just readjusts the blanket around you again, tucking it in around you until he is content. His arm wraps around you again pulling you even closer to his chest. With a little more shifting he is situated and goes back to drawing. 

It’s one of those nights that leaves you with the feeling there is nothing in the world you really have to worry about, not when Jake is at your side. 

— — — — 

"Do I look okay? I can't decide if this is too dressy," Jake asks you as he walks into the living room. Once he is standing fully in front of you, he adds, almost sheepishly. "It's for a date." 

Your eyes snap to Jake, and you inhale sharply, caught off guard by his words. You try to play it off, scanning him from head to toe. He is wearing a patterned button-down with the sleeves neatly folded to his elbows, and the top two buttons are undone. You could see the peak of his dog tags underneath. Jake has paired the shirt with some dark-wash jeans. He, of course, looks undeniably good. It doesn't help how your stomach is stuck on one of those whirly fair rides. You gulp down your bubbling emotions, trying to keep level and at bay. 

"You look great. What are you doing?" You ask casually. 

"We are going to some coffee shop," Jake tells you with a shrug. 

"Oh wow, that should be fun. "

"It'll be something," while he sounds confident, Jake doesn't really sound excited. 

"Normally, you are supposed to be excited about a date, you know."

"Yes, Sugar. I am aware of that." He says, rolling his eyes. 

With how hard you had been trying, you think that Jake would have acted on any secret or partial feelings he had for you. This felt like the final nail in the coffin. He wasn't going to love you back; he wasn't going to pick up any of your hints. All signs pointed to that he would never feel that way towards you. It seemed all other excuses now evaporated. It wasn't that he wasn't dating right now. It wasn't that he was too busy or wasn't looking for anyone. It was simply because it wasn't you, and it never would be you. 

God, he was so handsome; even in the trenches of your hurt, you can't help but think so. "It's your hair."

"What?"

"Come here," you tell him, motioning for him to come closer to your side. "It's your hair that is making you feel that way." 

Jake comes to your side and crouches down. You reach up and touch the gelled-back strands. Ignoring the product's texture, you run your fingers through it so that it falls much more loose and free.  

"You aren't going to work; you don't need your hair slicked back like this." You explain to him kindly. You fiddle with one of the strands absently, trying to decide how you want to place it. Jake's eyes flutter shut while you play with the strands. 

"Thank you," Jake says softly, his hand settling on your waist, holding you steady while you fix his hair. You ignore how big and warm his hand feels. It's like his touch burns you with how much it makes you want to cry. You pull away and lean back, making his hand fall back to his side. 

"Anytime, Hangman," you whisper. He pulls back from you and sits in his comfy chair. 

"So, tell me about it," you say after a minute of staring at him. 

"Well, she asked me out the other night at the bar."

The last time Jake went to the bar was on Thursday. That was four days ago, and he hadn't said anything. You feel the knife in your gut twist even deeper. 

"Well, how did it happen?" You don't know why you are doing this to yourself. You know that if you don't ask him any more questions, Jake will sit quietly and content in his chair on his phone until he has to leave. 

"Ah, she complimented my shirt. She is from Texas too."

"She just complimented your shirt, and now you are going on a date?"

"Yeah, I mean, she asked, and I didn't have an excuse to say no," Jake explains to you. It's true he didn't have an excuse; after all, the two of you were just roommates and friends.

"Oh, well, that's nice. She sounds bold," You respond.

"Bold's definitely one way to put it."

"What do you mean?" You are confused by his tone.

"Well, to put it plainly, Sugar. I think that she really only wants one thing from me." Jake gestures down the length of his body before pulling his toothpick case out of his pocket and popping one out to use.

“Gottcha,” you answer. 

Jake sits there with you for another ten minutes, bouncing his leg the entire time before he tells you he has to go. You manage to force out a polite goodbye telling him to have fun. You are anxious for Jake to get back. You try to distract yourself, but nothing seems to work. Finally, a few hours later, you decide it would probably be best for you to try and get out for a while. However, when you get to the garage, Jake is there. 

You are startled and set a hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing back down. He is wearing a pair of earmuffs and hasn't seen you yet. You notice that he has changed clothes since you last saw him. Now he is in one of his ratty garage shirts and jeans. 

Walking across the garage, you call to him loudly, "Jake!" 

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye. He raises his hand in greeting and pushes off the earmuffs, then takes out the headphones he had on underneath. 

"Hi, Sugar," Jake says. 

"Jakers! I didn't know you were home. How did it go?" You ask. Despite having prepared yourself to be happy for him, your tone doesn't quite hit as easygoing as you hoped.  

"Yeah, I got home a while ago. It wasn't the best date I've ever been on," Jake says, throwing the cloth he has in his hands over his shoulder. 

"No?" You question trying to fish for details. 

"No," he sighs and rubs his face. His hair, you playfully mused earlier, is now almost messy, telling you he had been messing with it. 

"I'm sorry," you apologize. 

"No need to be. I only went to be polite anyway." Jake says, giving you a smile. His answer raises your heart from where it had been residing on the floor. You drift over to the bench to see what he is working on and gasp. 

"Oh my god, Jake, is this it?"

"Yes, Ma'am. One puzzle table, almost done." 

You appreciate the stained juniper and the design that Jake made for the table. It folds open, and the top is removable as well if you want it completely out of the way, not just folded. It has a soft white felt fabric on the inside. On the sides, there are a few hidden drawers to store pieces. You can tell it's impeccably made. The table looks almost exactly like the final sketch he had shown you for your approval and feedback before buying the materials. 

"It's amazing, just like your design," You sigh, going to run your hand over the smooth-looking wood. Jake stops you, his hand catching your wrist in a gentle grip.  

"The stain is still drying," He warns you before letting go of your hand. 

"How did you get so good at all this?" You decide to ask him, turning your admiration of the table back to him. 

"Miss Celeste."

"No way," you say, shaking your head at him in disbelief.

"No, it's true!"

"Why exactly did Mrs. Celeste know about all this?" You ask, waving towards the table and bench. 

Jake chuckles as he twirls a square pencil in his fingers. "She is a very talented woman. But the reason she learned about woodworking was because she fell in love."

"Don't leave it there, Jake." 

"Well, one day Miss Celeste drove into town to go to the store. And while she was in the tool store, she had gotten all turned around. That's where she met my Pop, Mr. Russell, he was also there and asked if she was lost. Now, Miss Celeste would rather die than admit she was in the wrong, or ignorant. So she told him she was exactly where she needed to be. So he asked her, what she needed the wood for, and what was she going to do with it? Then she looked him dead in the eyes saying she was building a new bed frame. And poor Mr. Russ had been so shocked that he laughed."

"He laughed?" you ask. 

 Jake grins widely towards you at the memory of the story. As he chuckles at his grandmother and shakes his head. "Miss Celeste was so mad that she decided she had to do it. She made him carry all the wood she picked out and to the register and then also to her truck. Pops didn't complain once about this small polish woman meeting him and immediately bossing him around either. After all the wood was all loaded up, he wished her good luck."

"Miss Celeste doesn't believe in luck." You say, thinking of some of the other stories Jake had told you. 

"No, Ma'am, and neither do I." 

"She told him that, didn't she?"

"Of course, and she said she didn't need luck, because she had skill and work ethic," Jake's voice dipped into an extra twist of accent that somewhat replicated his grandmother's unique polish southern twang you would hear on the other side of Jake's phone sometimes.    

"Mr. Russ just shrugged, helped her in her truck, and told her that he would believe it when he saw it. And it drove her a little crazy. She became obsessed with figuring out how to build a bed frame. Not just anyone but a good one. She went to the library, checked out a bunch of books, and even took some classes. When Miss Celeste finished it, she had no idea what to do. All she knew about him was he had been in a tool store, and his name was Russell.  

"Miss Celeste went back to the store and tried asking around after Russell, but no one knew anything."

"What happened?" you ask him. 

Jake's eyes absolutely twinkle, and sometimes when he talks about the things he loves, he nearly glows. He turns towards his bench and grabs a trunk off the top shelf. 

You lean close to his side as he opens it. The chest has a few different photo albums and other keepsakes. You spot a watch, a compass, some pins, and some patches. Tucked in the corner, you see a cello bridge you desperately want to ask Jake about.

However, before you can jump topics, Jake traces over the photo album's spines until he grabs one with a dark leather binding. Flipping open the scrapbook, Jake starts turning pages before he stops on one and shows the page to you. You follow where he is pointing. Saved in the scrapbook is an aged newspaper clipping. It's an advertisement for two handmade bedside tables; payment only accepted in one matching bed frame.

"He put an Ad in the paper?" 

"Every single Sunday after he met her, for months." Jake sighs and runs his fingers across the paper. 

"So, Miss Celeste finally saw it?" 

"Yeah, she contacted him and invited him over. Pops pulled up to her house with two bedside tables that matched the bed frame. Miss Celeste demanded that he put the bedside tables in her room to go with the frame. He asked her if they could go on a drive and dinner after. She said absolutely not. They had to test out how sturdy she made the frame. Pops was a smart man who said yes, ma'am, and followed orders. They have spent every day since then madly in love." 

"Wow, that's such a beautiful love story they had."

"Yeah, it was something."

"So, you are close with Russ too?" you ask. 

"I am, even if he ain't my grandpa," Jake says.

"What? He's not your Grandpa?" You ask surprised. 

"My actual blood grandpa, the one I'm named after, died young. Mr. Russ and Miss Celeste fell in love later. He always bothered my Da', but Russ is a good man."

"And good to you?" 

"Yeah, and good to me too." 

Jake turns the page, and you see the couple. They are sitting in two rocking chairs side by side, holding hands. Celeste has a neutral, if almost stern, look on her face, but Russell is grinning wide, his face happy and bright. The only thing that gives Celeste's true feelings away is that she is leaning towards him. It reminds you vaguely of how the sunflower can't help but turn in the direction of the sun. 

"He's the reason I applied to the naval academy. Helped me get my congressional nominations and write my application. My namesake was in the army, but Russ is a navy man, just like me." Jake turns the page again. 

The next picture is a huge barn with Celeste and Russell standing proudly in front of it. Russ has an arm thrown around Celeste's shoulder. She has a hand on her hip, and a hammer in the other. Celeste has a pleased look but not an actual full smile, while Russell is once again grinning. You reach out slowly without thinking and touch the picture. While Russell doesn't look like Jake, there is something you can see in the picture that is reminiscent of him. They have the same sort of aura around them.

"He is your grandpa, then."

"Yeah, he's my Pops." Jake says, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 

"They built a barn?" 

"Yes, Ma'am, and it's still standing today," Jake answers proudly. Then he closes the scrapbook and puts it back in the trunk. Before you can jump on the opportunity to ask about anything else in the trunk, Jake snaps it closed and puts it away. 

"Thank you for sharing with me, Jake." You tell him. 

"Thank you for listening."

"One of my favorite things," you answer almost cheekily. You glance over to Jake and find him already staring at you. 

"I can't imagine and don't understand people who settle for anything less than what my grandparents have," Jake says seriously to you.

"Is that why it didn't work out tonight with your date?"

Jake is quiet for a minute, like he is contemplating your question. "I guess you could say it's something like that."

"Wow. You really don't want to tell me about your date." You laugh. 

"You don't tell me about your dates," Jake says, a bit annoyed.

"Maybe that's because I haven't been going on any," you defend yourself. 

"You haven't?" He asks.

"No." 

"Oh," he responds. Then his eyes drop down to the puzzle table. He twists the top of the stain off and dips a rag into it. Your nose wrinkles a little bit at the smell, but you stay close next to Jake's side. 

"I would tell you about them," you finally say. 

"You would?"

"Of course, I would. I always want to tell you everything, all the time." You admit this like it's a secret. 

Jake sniffs before he bumps his elbow playfully into your side. "That's one of my favorite things, Sugar. Now, so this whole day isn't wasted, will you throw on some tunes and hang out while I finish this?"

Your mouth feels a bit dry at his words but you quickly reorient yourself. "Do you need help?"

"No, just company. Plus, now that the table is done, you have a job to do."

"What job do I have to do?" You ask, turning on the speaker in the garage and connecting your phone. 

"Honey, it's your turn to pick us out a new puzzle," Jake says. 

"Are you seriously going to let me?"

"Of course, I'll grab my puzzle chest for you to look through in a minute."

"What if I don't like any of those options?"

"Then we'll order one you do like," Jake shrugs. 

"What if you don't like the one I pick?"

"I'll like it," Jake says reassuringly. 

"Yeah, but what if you don't?" You ask again. 

"If you pick it out, I will like it, sugar," Jake tells you more firmly this time, leaving no room for questions or argument. It's reassuring and a warm sentiment, and it makes it difficult for you to stop grinning when you start digging through the handmade chest and examining the different puzzles in his collection. 

^^^^^^

It's a scene you wouldn't normally involve yourself with. However, it is Javy's birthday, so exceptions do have to be made for the holiday. You had never known how seamlessly Jake and Marlee could work together until watching them pull off this surprise party. 

 Jake had stayed up until two am the previous night finishing the banner. It said, "Happy birthday Javy!" with several planes on it, all being flown by very realistic depictions of Coyotes, the animal that is. You had been enlisted in helping put everything together, which you didn't mind, but Marlee and Jake had really taken the brunt of the work. 

Now, here you are in the bowling alley Jake had rented out, which is now filled to the brim with people enjoying the night. You knew Javy was funny, sociable, and well-liked, but this was genuinely so many people you were shocked. More than any of the bonfires or other parties the Machados threw. 

You were even actually having a lot of fun at first. You enjoyed talking and laughing with your mutual friends who had come to celebrate. You were still grinning from the feeling that had swept over you, watching how widely Javy smiled when Marlee walked him in, and everyone shouted surprise. After Javy kissed his wife silly and started to greet people, the high-five Jake and Marlee shared was so loud your own hand hurt watching it happen. It didn't make the scene any less heartwarming. Nothing quite paralleled the feeling of seeing the people who mattered most in your life together and having fun. All your enjoyment came to a screeching halt when you heard a conversation that definitely wasn't meant for your ears. 

"Showboating at someone else's birthday is a bit much, don't you think?" you hear coming from the conversation a few men were having near you. Curious, you followed where their gazes were turned. They were looking over at Javy, Marlee, Tazina, their little sister, and Jake. The four of them were playing doubles pool, and Jake was laughing at something someone had said while knocking balls into pockets effortlessly. 

"Showboats at work, during class, and PT, showboats at the bar. That's Hangman for you. I don't know why you are surprised. I don't think he can help himself, honestly," one of the men responds. 

"I don't know if his being dick helps anything or anyone." 

"Naw, man, you are just mad he nailed that maneuver before you last week."

"No," the first guy defends himself. "It's not that, dude. Plus you know I was flying earlier in the morning, and the weather was shifting."

"Oh yeah, Amber, you told us all about it." The third guy says, sounding exasperated like he had heard the excuse a million times.

"I don't know. Haven't you noticed something off about the guy?" Amber continues on, turning to more fully face his friends and you inch closer to hear better. 

"What do you mean?"

"The guy is an asshole. He's always making fun of everyone and then showing them up. The other day he had the audacity to tell me he already had the new manual memorized. We haven't had those longer than a week."

"Just ignore him, Amber." 

"Hard to ignore him when he is so loud and never shuts up." 

Jake did draw the eye and attention, oftentimes to an edge you knew he didn't even notice. Jake was high-fiving Tazina, after which he he picked her up and spun her around the table, gloating about their win loudly. It looked like a genuine celebration, though, not designed to specifically rub in anyone's face. And even though it was Javy's birthday, with his arm wrapped around Marlee and sipping a drink, he didn't look anything other than happy. You didn't like people talking about Jake; it made your skin crawl. They were the ones who could take a moment to celebrate whose birthday it actually was.

"Yeah, I don't know why Yote is always keeping Hangman around." One said. The comment shoots anger through you and short-circuits your brain a little bit. That was just one step too far over the line on these guys' part. 

You knew exactly why Javy kept Jake around. You knew just how close Hangman and Coyote were. You knew about the unbreakable bond they had foraged, brothers in every way that mattered to each other, wingmen, and best friends for life and death. Jake often joked that he and Javy would be bunked up together in hell just like they had been back in college. 

You knew about the time they went hiking, and a freak blizzard had trapped them together for two whole days. You knew the calls and hours they would spend together. You knew how Javy would pull Jake back from the edge, and Jake would do the same for Javy. The hours they would spend reading over a manual long after it was memorized, trying to find any hidden details together and discussing technicalities. You had been there before when Marlee called Jake, begging him to bring Javy home. Jake had gone to the gym to collect the aviator, who had been on the treadmill for hours. Times they were both struggling, Hangman would take Coyote to a wing restaurant there they would eat and have a beer before returning Javy home to his wife. 

The implication that their friendship was anything less than the bond of brotherhood, that Hangman somehow didn't give as much as he got from Coyote, was enough to boil your blood. The anger builds more and more, so much so, you decide that you have heard enough of the slander. Walking confidently over, you stop at the little partial circle they are standing in. 

"You guys are wrong," you tell them with a frown, capturing their attention.

"What's that, sweet thing?" One asks you, clearly confused. 

"Hangman is the one who put this together for him and flew their little sister out." 

"Okay, and?" Another one of the guys asks. 

"I heard what you were saying, and you are wrong. Hangman is the least selfish person I have ever met. If you can't keep up with him in the sky, that is a different issue. Maybe you shouldn't be paying so much attention to other pilots, and you might fly better. I understand not having a photographic memory must be hard for you, but I promise there are worse real handicaps people have to get over every single day." 

All three men's mouths fall open shocked at your words. One of them opens his mouth as if he is going to try and tell you off, but you don't give him a chance barrelling on.  

" And it's a real low blow for you to bring his brother into it like that on the man's birthday, too. You can talk shit about Hangman, and he will laugh it off any day. Say something about Yote; that's a different story. So, maybe y'all are the ones who should focus on the birthday boy while drinking the liquor Hangman paid for." You add sharply, nodding to the drinks in their hands from the open bar. All three men stare at you for a long moment, and you are surprised none of them has jumped into being an asshole to your face. You are a bit pleased when they all avert their gazes and look at least a little 

"Sorry, ma'am," the one in the middle utters, lowering his head. 

"I'm not the one you should apologize to." You say with a point towards the pool tables. The group nods and then scurries away and over to Javy, greeting him quickly and striking up a conversation. 

"You didn't have to do that," you hear a  familiar voice say. You turn around, shocked to see Jake lingering close. 

"What's that?" you ask, pretending to be confused, smiling at him. You aren't sure how much he heard or how long he had been there. 

"I don't care what those guys think, and Javy knows I care about him."

"I know," you say, and it's true. You know Jake cares very little about the opinion of people he doesn't deem impressive in their own right or part of his inner circle.

"I don't like hearing them say things that aren't true, though."  

"Unfortunately, whatever they were saying before was probably more on the side of truth than you want to believe," Jake says. 

"Hmm, maybe not about Hangman. They are wrong when it comes to Jake, though. And regardless, even Hangman cares about Coyote." 

Jake gives a full belly laugh at that statement, "Yes, that's true, Jake or Hangman, Coyote or Javy. We go together."

"Machado and Seresin, two peas in a pod."

"Wingmen for life," Jake confirms. 

"Best buds. In fact, y'all are so close I think that you are the only person that Marlee would get jealous over."

Jake only laughs more, but he doesn't disagree. "You didn't have to defend me. I've heard worse, and I'm sure they have said worse." 

"Of course, I will defend you, Jake. You would defend me," you say with a shrug. As far as you are concerned, it is easy math. 

"I wouldn't put up with you being lied about. If someone was saying something about you, I would do more than just defend you, sugar."

"I know you would," you say, taking a step closer to Jake. Jake welcomes your closeness and leans toward you as well.  

"I'm worried you don't know that I'm a bad guy." Jake suddenly says. He takes a pull of his drink and finishes it in one smooth motion. Setting his empty glass on a nearby surface, Jake steps even closer to you. The two of you are almost chest to chest now, only a few short inches between you. 

"You aren't a bad guy." You say, shaking your head at his words. 

"God damn it," Jake groans and rolls his eyes. He turns away from you and to the open bar full of alcohol behind you. He grabs a glass and starts to pour himself a shot. Jake throws the tequila back without flinching and licks his lips slating those intense eyes back on you. 

"I am, actually. You don't got to—" Jake says, but you cut him off. You don't want to hear anything less than nice and praiseworthy about Jake for the rest of the night, least of all, from him. It makes you too upset.

"You are good." You say insistently, needing him to understand. Jake just starts to pour another shot, his jaw clenching at your words. However, when he doesn't protest, you continue on, "I don't know who convinced you otherwise, but I am going to have a talk with them. 

"I would never let that happen," Jake says in a surprisingly forceful tone. 

"No?"

"Nope," he pops the p sound. "I would never have let him within a hundred feet of you, sugar. Let alone close enough to have a conversation." 

"Oh, Jake. Who?" you ask, trying to press him for details on the subject that has come up glancingly several times now. 

"Naw, I don't want to actually talk about it. I just wanted to set the record straight."

"You could talk to me, though." You set your hand on his arm, stopping him from hastily throwing back his next shot. 

"It's nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart," Jake grits out. 

"I'm sorry," you start feeling a little bad. "I won't push you anymore on it, but you can always talk to me." 

He does take the shot he poured, but it's much more deliberate and controlled than the first. When he sets the glass back down, he reaches for a lime slice and bites into it. After which, he finally utters a quiet "Thank you." 

Jake doesn't stay down for long. As often happens in social situations he blossoms, earning easy and casual attention by simply being himself, a feedback loop that puffs him up more, making his natural draw that much stronger. 

As the evening continues, everyone is pulled together to sing Javy happy birthday while he blows out candles on the massive cake Marlee had ordered. Once the cake is cut, everyone starts drinking more than any other activity, but the whole atmosphere is happy and warm. As the party starts to wind down and people leave. You observe and enjoy the atmosphere when an arm is wrapped around your shoulder. 

"Thank you," Javy says as his arm curls pulling you into one of his famous bear hugs. You squirm a little bit, trying to find breathing room, and laugh at him.

"Your callsign should have been Bear because of your hugs."

Javy finds this suggestion hilarious, and you attributed that more to him being drunk and less to do with your joke. As his chuckles start to enter the giggle category, you join in with him. 

"What are you thanking me for, birthday boy?" Once you two manage to stop laughing.

"Thank you for being so good to Marlee and Jake. I love them both so much. It's nice to have someone I know cares about them as much as I do." Javy says sincerely. 

"Well, they sure make it easy," you said with a shrug. Both you and Javy turn to look for the pair. Most people have left now, leaving only a handful of Javy's friends left as well as Marlee and Jake. Neither of you are surprised to see them sneaking over to the bar and picking out shot glasses together. 

"When are you going to give Marlee what she wants?" You ask Javy conversationally, settling an arm around his waist but pinching his side affectionately. 

"When are you going to give Jake what he wants?" Javy throws back just as casually. 

"Jake doesn't want anything from me," you say, deflecting that comment away. Javy just laughs and rolls his eyes. His laugh dies down, and he starts fiddling with his wedding ring. 

"I've been trying to give her what she wants. Well, I should actually say we have been trying for what we want, just no luck yet." Javy says it lightly, but you know your friend well enough to tell this is something that's weighing heavily on him. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Javy. Marlee didn't tell me." You rush out, feeling bad for bringing up the topic. 

"No apologies allowed. We have been keeping it on the down low. Just until there is something to tell, you know. If there is ever something to tell. It's been hard on us, though. Marlee feels like there's something wrong with her."

"That's not how it works," you say as concern fills you for your friend.  

"I know. We know. But I'll say this, you and Jake will probably be some of the first people we will tell.' 

"Oh, Javy, we'll be so excited for you. I'm here, you know. If y'all ever need anything. If she ever needs anything."

"Yeah, we know," Javy says and kisses your forehead. "Thank you for helping them put together this party. I know you helped more than you will admit."

"Anything for you, Coyote. You've had fun?"

"Yes, I have had so much fun. But I think that it is time for me to get the missus home." 

"Not before you have another shot. It's your birthday!"

"That's true," Javy says with a wide grin. "But only if you take one with me." You agree, as that had been your intention from the start. You tug a bit on his hip to get momentum going as you let go and move away from Javy. 

"Come on, before we miss another round," You say, starting to walk towards where Marlee was deliberating between different liquor bottles. Javy falls in step with you no hesitation. 

"It'll only happen when you say you are ready, you know." Javy throws your way. 

"What will? Shots?" you ask him, confused.

"No, what I'm saying is there is no rush with you and Jake. He is going to keep waiting. At this point, I'm pretty sure he will wait forever, as long as you need." 

"Coyote," you sigh. "He doesn't feel that way for me." Javy doesn't acknowledge what you said with anything more than a frown that quickly melts away. A few feet later, he throws his head back and howls at the ceiling tiles. 

The sound makes Jake's head snapped up and towards you two. With a wide grin, Jake throws his head back as well and howls in response. Jake is at your favorite stage of drunk, where he is giggly and overly affectionate. His eyes light up, seeing Javy. 

"Coyote," Jake says gleefully, borderline yelling. 

"Hangman," Javy replies, grinning back. 

"Where did you go? Jake asks, a pouty frown replacing his smile. He looks so upset you have to resist the urge to pull him into a hug and pet his hair. 

"I made sure Tazina got in her taxi safely, but then I was just over there, bud." Javy gestures generally in the direction that you two had been before. 

"Do you want to do a shot?" Jake asks, already pouring the drinks.

"Yes, we do." Javy agrees, gesturing towards you. He pats Jake's shoulder, giving him a little turn to face you better. Jake shifts his eyes off Javy to consider you for a moment, and his grin reappears. Once Jake moves, Coyote slips over to wrap his arms around Marlee, kissing her soundly on the lips. 

"Missed you," Marlee says, pulling Javy closer into a kiss that quickly starts to become less than PG-friendly. You snap your eyes back to Jake and away from your friends. Jake is completely oblivious to them, or more likely, it is that he is better used to their PDA. 

"Sugar!!" He says enthusiastically. "Thank god you're here. I have a huge problem."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" You ask Jake with a laugh. Marlee pulls her lips off of Javy's and turns to Jake wide-eyed. 

"Oh my god, Jakers! You are brilliant." Marlee gasps. You feel a tiny twinge of jealousy in you at someone else, even Marlee, using your nickname for Jake. 

"Marlene, of course, I'm brilliant. Has it taken you this long to realize that?" Jake says back to her sassily. 

"Hey, you don't be mean to my wife!" Coyote says, glaring at Jake. Javy untangles himself from Marlee, and then a few moments later, the two men are playfully roughhousing. Marlee drifts to your side, and you wrap an arm around her waist in a half hug. She immediately follows in kind, wrapping you in hers. 

"Love you," you tell her quietly. Marlee grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and squeezes you a little tighter. 

"I love you too, bestie." 

You both watch  Jake and Javy playfully shove each other a few more times. When Jake goes to put Javy in a headlock, you decide to intervene. 

"Hangman," you say. His attention is pulled off Coyote and to you instantly, his eyebrows drawn close together. 

"Yes, ma'am?" 

"What's this problem you were having?" You ask, directing the question half toward Jake and half toward Marlee. 

"Well, you see, Marlee and I have been trying to finish this alcohol, and we just desperately need help."

"That is something I think we can help with," you say, and Javy nods enthusiastically, which makes Marlee and Jake cheer loudly. 

The four of you all take some final shots. Then you ordered Javy and Marlee a ride home. Javy and Jake hug for almost five straight minutes while waiting outside for the taxi. You make sure to take several pictures, sending them in your group chat with the guys and Marlee. You are already looking forward to hearing them try to explain their behavior in the morning. You imagine that Jake will give a long-winded explanation about how it was Javy's birthday and there is nothing wrong with hugging his bestie on his birthday. 

Once your friends are headed home safely, you and Jake, who is still shockingly coordinated, clean up the remaining decorations, drink water, and settle up everything with the venue. Then you call a taxi for yourself. Now you two are waiting outside for your taxi. 

"We should repaint," Jake decrees. 

"Repaint?" You clarify. 

"Yeah," Jake says, and he hugs you from behind. His arms wrap around you snuggly, pulling you close. 

"What are we going to repaint?" 

"The kitchen, your room, the whole house. Everything, anything." Then he hums in your ear. Dragging his nose up your neck, giving you a small nuzzle. "Whatever color you want."

You take a moment, then think of Javy's words from earlier in the night. How Jake is just waiting. You wonder for a moment if that's true and what he could possibly be waiting for. What more did you need to show him for him to be convinced that you love him and it might be worth his time to love you back? You had been putting in the work and done everything you could think of. Not that the things you did for Jake were only to win him over, you did them because you loved him, of course. It just all seemed so obvious. 

"I don't get you, Jake," you whisper to him.

"Well, that's just not true. Honestly, I think you understand me more than anyone else," Jake says, squeezing his arms around you a minuscule bit tighter. 

"No. I don't think so. You build me tables, you cook, you make me laugh, and you cuddle with me. Now you want to let me choose the paint for your house. Why?"

"Why?" Jake echoes, sounding just as confused as you felt. 

"Yes. Why?" He spins you around, his hands find purchase on your hips holding you steady. 

"How could you not know why?" Jake looks visibly distressed, and his hands squeeze your hips almost tight. He is searching your eyes and face frantically, trying to understand. Then closes his eyes like he is trying to do some really hard mental math.

"I need to detail your car." He says a minute later with a solid nod. Then he turns you around and hugs you close again.

"No, Jake. I don't need you to do that," you squawk, having no clue where that idea even popped into his head from. 

He just hums against the crook of your neck where he settles his head. His breath is warm against your neck, making shivers run up and down you. 

"Seriously, don't," you reiterate. 

He nods his head against you, "It's happening, Sugar."

You are at war with yourself. You want to be upset at him; you want to love him. You want to shake him hard and make him see, really see you. 

"Jake, how drunk are you?" you ask.

"Hmmm, why?" He wonders. Jake doesn't get actually drunk very often. Normally he drinks in measured, careful amounts. Rarely brushing completely out of his limits of control. 

 "Because I'm wondering." 

"I'm not very drunk. I've been layering  in water all night." He tells you, and it's a relief to hear. Because maybe Jake not completely in control, is what you needed. There was a difference though, between letting loose and being entirely inebriated.

"I have a question for you."

"I have an answer," Jake replies easily. You are still deciding if you are going to take the jump when your taxi pulls up. You start to wiggle out of Jake's arms to greet the driver, but he holds you still.

 "What's your question, sugar?"

"I'll ask you when we get home," you say gently. 

Jake accepts that and unwraps himself from you. Once you two are settled in the back seat together, it is like a switch flips in Jake. He is alert, and if you hadn't been watching him do shots and drink all night, you would believe he was sober. He confidently gives the driver your address and makes an easy casual conversation. 

You can't take your eyes off of him, admiring what you can see in the dark. Your eyes flick down, and you watch as his hand slides across the seat, it is a confident movement. Jake's palm flips over, where he leaves it there open and waiting. 

You hesitantly brush your fingers against his but don't settle them. Jake's whole hand flexes, clenching, going to hold you but coming up empty. Then he relaxes again, letting his fingers spread a little wider. You look up and meet his gaze, which is now pouring into yours. He is still making casual conversation, but you know he is lasered in on you. 

So in the dark, in the back seat of the cab, you settle your hand into Jake's. As soon as you do, Jake curls his hand into yours, slotting your fingers. It's not the first time you have held hands, but it feels so charged and intimate that your breath hitches just slightly. 

Jake's thumb draws against the back of your hand the whole rest of the drive. It's a slow, steady repetitive movement. You try to figure out the pattern, and when you two are nearly home, it hits you that he is drawing a question mark, tracing it into your skin. 

You are home. Jake had let go of you only once, and it was to jog and open your car door for you. Your hand was placed back in his as he helped you out of the car. He hasn't let go of it again since then. 

Neither of you says anything as you make your way into your home. Jake stares at you expectantly, and you are considering chickening out of your earlier plan. Even more so when the time has stretched awkwardly that you've stood in the entry, and Jake pulls his hands out of yours.

However, before the panic can settle at the loss of his skin,  Jake is bending down on his knees, helping you out of your shoes. He massages each foot and then your ankles. You can't help the sigh of satisfaction that falls out of your lips. After which, he places your shoes on your shoe rack. He is much more methodical and quick about shucking his own shoes. Placing them in their spot, Jake stands and pulls off his jacket, still not saying anything.

Part of you wishes that he wasn't letting you out of it so easily, but the part of you that is scared, and a bit of a coward, is thankful, glad even. You expressed gratitude too soon. 

"Sugar," he says, following you as you start to make your way to the stairs. You turn to face him, swallowing down the nerves you feel. However, you don't say anything yet. 

"I have an answer," Jake reminds you steadily. His eyes are burning bright despite the dim hallway; only one of the nearby living room lamps you had left on provides light. 

"But you don't know the question." You tell him. Jake's eyebrows crease, and his lips purse. 

"I think I do." He says carefully. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment, and you watch intently as he bites it a few times before letting go. "Why don't you ask it anyways." 

"What's the answer?" You ask him. 

"What's the question?" He repeats. 

You clench your fists tight and drop your eyes to the ground, trying to steady yourself. He has never been explicit with you about any feelings and what you want to ask is a big jump. You try to think of how you can ease him into it, how you can entice him, let him know what you want, and spur him into action. You stare into his green eyes, looking for answers, and he gives you a tiny encouraging nod. 

"Do you care about me?" You finally ask. 

"Yes," Jake says almost before you finish the question. When he processes it fully, he nods his head again as if deciding that was actually true. His answer helps ease some of the tension you feel, and you feel slightly more confident. 

"I have another question." 

"I have an answer," he replies playfully. You step so you are close to Jake and rest your hand his chest. He dips his head down a little bit to get a better look at you. He adopts a soft sweet smile while putting his own hand over yours. You can feel the steady pace of his heart pumping. 

"Jake?"

"Yes, that's me, Honey."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes," he responds steadily, and the balloon of hope in you raises so high you think you might float. 

"Would you like to fuck me?" You finally manage to ask. The soft smile on Jake's face melts, and he physically takes a step back from you. Your hand falls limply to your side. Jake shuts his eyes tight and scrubs over his face a few times. Then he pulls at his hair before looking at you again.

"No," he responds quietly. 

"Oh," you whisper. 

"No," he repeats more firmly and adds, "I don't want just to fuck you." 

You try to think of something to say, but there is nothing. All you can do is force the closest thing to a smile you can muster on, and you nod your head shakily at him. You watch Jake's eyes widen as his eyebrows draw together. He starts to lean towards you, but you can't bare it. To feel his warmth close to you at this moment is the worst thing you can imagine. It feels as if you have hyperthermia; all the heat has been sucked out of your body. Jake's gentle touch would be like throwing you in the bath, the only thing you want and the thing that would only kill you faster. 

You hurt. You ache. You want to cry and scream and maybe some other dramatic reaction. You want to do anything that would help you get some of this hurt out. You know you can't finish this conversation. You stumble back a little bit. You briefly and wryly think it would have hurt less if he had physically hit you. Bruises fade from view; you just got to give it a few weeks. You don't think that your heart will recover this time.

As you back up, your heel hits the first step of the stairs. You quickly turn, grab the railing, and start to step up the stairs. Right now, all you can think to hold yourself together is that you need to get away and be alone. 

"Wait," Jake rasps and steps quickly after you. His hand catches your elbow, pulling you back a little bit, but you refuse to turn to look at him. He presses his face into your arm. All you can do to hold your sobs in is take short, gasping breaths. You couldn't fathom how he could touch you so tenderly after having just rejected you. 

"Stop it, Jake!" You beg him tugging on your arm. Jake lets it fall from his grasp. It's a slow movement, halting and trailing. You turn to see his eyes there, waiting to capture yours. His eyes burn looking into yours, the edges rimmed in red.  

"Just, stop." You sigh, again barely holding the lump at the back of your throat down. 

"I don't understand," Jake whispers to you. His hands reach towards you but drop back to his side quickly. Where he clenches them open and closed repeatedly. Jake's hands then fist into his hair and he rips at it as his leg bounces restlessly. You can't stop yourself from caring about him. You can't stop yourself from reacting. No matter if he just shattered your heart, you won't let him hurt himself. 

"What don't you understand?" You ask as you pull the hair elastic off your wrists and hand it to him. Jake takes it from you, and his fingers start working and fiddling with it. 

"I don't understand your reaction. Why are you mad at me?" 

"I'm not mad at you, Jake." You take a deep breath and release it slowly, "I'm mad at myself." 

"Were you wanting me to say yes?" 

You just shrug and step back up another step of the stairs putting more space between you. Jake follows, not allowing more than two stairs to separate you. 

"It's a yes or no question. I need you to be direct with me. Did you want me to say yes?"

"The question wasn't about what I wanted, Jake. It was about what you did." 

"Can I change my answer?" He asks you almost timidly. 

"No," you whisper. You are unable to stop the few tears that slip down your cheek. Your eyes are burning from trying to keep the rest of them at bay. 

"But it didn't come out the way I meant," Jake tries to explain.

"It was a yes or no question, Jake. It's okay that you said no," you rationalize, trying to use that as a balm to your own hurt. 

"But, if you let me explain," Jake says as he pulls the hair band so hard it snaps.

"I don't need an explanation. I just needed the answer, and you gave that to me." Then after a small pause, you add, "Thank you, Jake." 

"Please," Jake says in that same small voice. He has his lips pressed tightly together, and you see that this conversation has also upset him. 

"You are hurting my feelings," you whisper to him. Jake staggers three steps backwards down the stairs as soon as he processes the words. You take another step up the stairs, and he doesn't pursue after you this time. 

"Are we going to be okay?" He asks solemnly. You think about his words and what had happened. Sure he rejected you, but it was probably one of the kindest and easiest ways it could have happened. Plus, now you had your answer. You didn't have to wonder anymore. Now you and Jake could just be best friends and roommates. You would never stop carrying a torch for him, you knew you would always love him, and you would get to keep Jake in your life at least, which isn't such a bad thing. 

"We'll be fine in the morning," you tell Jake pushing away a few more tears. He nods but otherwise doesn't say anything. You nod back and go finally are able to finish your escape into your room. 

What you said is true too. In the morning, you and Jake are fine. Neither of you mentions what happened the night before, except for Jake complaining about the picture you took. You tease him back about if he really didn't like them, why did he save them to his phone's camera roll. Jake still details your car and provides swatches of different colors for your approval. It feels like you are both grateful that you can move past what happened. And beyond that gratitude is a lot of heartache. 

======= 

You had seen all the signs again for a few weeks now. It was yet another one of those times that you could tell something was stressing Jake out, but you didn't know what. It wasn't hard for you to assume it had to do with his work, either. Surprisingly, usually, if Jake could talk about something that was stressing him out, like his sports teams, family, friends, or the store running out of the specific brand of yogurt he liked, he would tell you about it. Now that you knew what the signs were, it was easier for you to try to intervene and suggest Jake use one of his outlets. He was always grateful when you did, one time having explained to you that he really didn't notice sometimes until he was in the depths. 

You could tell this one was gearing up to be bad. Jake had cleaned the house from ceiling to floor, literally. He had washed the walls and scrubbed baseboards. Then he power-washed the driveway. The cleaning wasn't enough. You could see it in how he circled around the house like a shark as if ceasing to move would cause him to suffocate and die. He was staying up and working on projects in the garage until midnight. He went through every single box and chest in the attic. He also forced you to climb up the ladder so you would see the entire section he cleared out and left for you.  

What finally set you into action about intervening though was when you came home and Jake had baked 300 Pierniki mini cakes for the Big Brother Big Sister program he was involved with. When you asked if there was an event, he told you his little brother, Ryland, had a bake sale. Checking the flier that Jake had put up on the fridge, you saw the sale wasn't happening for a month and a half. You had sat with Jake in the kitchen as he baked, cooled, and packaged the Pierniki so they could go into the freezer while he cleaned. All the while found and ordered a gift you thought Jake might really enjoy as an outlet. 

When the package arrived, you spent more time wrapping it than you had any other gift in your life. You made sure that every one of the corners was folded and taped perfectly straight, as well as the bow. You were so excited you couldn't wait to tell him like you originally planned after dinner. 

"I got you something," you tell him, trying hard to hold back the excited grin that was threatening to give away your feelings. You wave Jake over, asking him to join you in the living room. 

Jake, who is fresh from a shower, has wet floppy hair and then his eyes take in the wrapped box on the table, and he almost looks alarmed. He approaches the box cautiously and guarded. 

"What is it?" He asks. 

"It's a surprise!" His expression doesn't change hearing that, so you add on, "If you really want to know, I can tell you what it is before you open it. Or unwrap it for you."

"Is it a good surprise?"

"I think so."

"Did you spend a lot of money on it?"

"I will not be disclosing that information," You answer in an overly sweet voice. It makes the expression on Jake's face crack, his lips quirking in a half-amused smile. 

He is reverent about unwrapping the gift. You can see the hesitant excitement on his face as he methodically unties the ribbon and finds each seam to pull. However, once Jake gets a peek at the box underneath, the wrapping is tearing before he has a second thought. He spares the paper a mournful glance. You just nudge the large box towards him, silently telling him it wasn't anything to overthink. 

"An aircraft carrier?" Jake's eyes drop to the model ship box as he takes in the details, analyzing the picture on the front. 

"I know that it isn't the same as yours, but —" 

"Sugar," Jake says, cutting you off. However, you barrel onwards anyways. 

"Listen, I can tell things have been hard for you lately. I don't know what's wrong, and I know if I ask, you can't tell me what it is. But," you sigh, frustrated, trying to remember the planned speech you had been practicing for when he opened this. 

"I don't want it to get so bad I come home and find out you jumped the gun on starting our next puzzle," You say. Jake laughs wryly and grimaces at that reminder.

"Not that would be bad if you wanted to, I wouldn't stay mad about it, I promise. But I thought this could be something different for you to work on with the stress. I think models like this could be right up your alley." you finish with a forced smile.

A minute of silence grows from one to two then three. Jake hasn't looked away from the box once, gripping the cardboard so hard there are indents now.

"Jake?" you ask cautiously, confused by his reaction. He ignores you and stays frozen there.

"Jake?" You ask again, a little louder. 

"Hangman," You finally try. 

Hangman's eyes snap up from the box and meet yours. "I'm shipping out, and I haven't figured out how to tell you." 

"Oh." you are so shocked you have no idea what to say. The box falls from your hands, and despite Jake's death grip, it slips out of his, too banging against the table. Neither of you pays it any mind. 

"When?" 

"Got about two weeks left, now."

Now. Jake said, now. It clicks for you, and can pinpoint it. You know the exact day that he must have gotten the news, about three weeks ago. He had come home after being at the gym for an extra hour and made one of your favorite meals. Jake hadn't said much and had scrubbed the kitchen after until it sparkled clean. 

"Oh, that isn't enough time for us to do this or a puzzle," is what you finally say, gesturing to the model box. Because what else can you say? You can't be mad that he hadn't told you, not really. 

"I was going to tell you, I promise. I've just been finalizing a lot of stuff and getting all the ducks in line."

"What kind of stuff?"

"I," he goes quiet and then clears his throat. "I updated my will, and I've been setting all my bills on auto-pay, making sure most of the maintenance around here is taken care of for a while. You know, all the checklist stuff."

"How long are you going to be gone?" You wonder out loud. 

"I don't know, six, maybe nine months," Jake responds clinically. Your heart clenches. Six months without Jake. Six months alone in this house.

"I'm going to miss you." You eventually manage to whisper out. Jake inhales sharply, hearing it. 

"I'm mad about it," he responds in a similarly delayed manner. 

“No, need to be mad Hangman. You know better than me how the Navy is. You would be just as well off being mad at God." Your joke is rewarded with one small chuckle, but Jake's serious face returns just as fast. 

"I've got so much stuff I've been working real hard on," Jake admits. 

"And you will be able to keep at it when you get back."

"There is no guarantee of coming back with the Navy either, Sugar."

"You'll come home, Jake."

"You think so?" Jake asks you. You are slightly comforted by the playful tone he adopts. 

"Yes, or else I'll reorganize all your books," You say. 

"Hmm, I don't think I would care if you do. Put them any way you like, sweetheart."

"I'll use your tools in the garage then."

"You are more than welcome to the shop anytime. Don't forget the color coding system." You both chuckle and take the moment to draw a steadying breath in. 

"I won't ever change the batteries for the fire alarms ever again." That one does provoke a reaction from him. His eyes dart to his watch. Jake stares at it hard. 

"Good reminder. Thank you, I'll text Yote the battery schedule. He will take care of it." Jake then loosened his watch's dark leather band by one notch; he shook his wrist out after, and the watch twisted out of place 180 degrees being so loose. 

"I'll do the new puzzle with someone else," you say, deciding you have to break out the big guns. 

"You wouldn't dare." Jake snaps. His attention was drawn entirely back to you. He plays up the part of mock outrage with impressive theatrics. 

"I certainly would." You wouldn't, actually.  

"Well, that's it then. I have to come home to you." 

"You never have to do something you don't want. There is no 'have to.'" You remind him, throwing air quotes in around the words. 

"Yes, there is," Jake tells you plainly and honestly. 

"What can I do to help you get ready to leave?" You ask to steer the conversation back on track. 

"Nothing and I don't want you acting differently on me out of nowhere, please. I understand if you need space because I kept it from you. But leaving is just part of my life; it doesn't need to be the end of our universe." 

"I'll try not to be weird, and I'll have months of space later," you console Jake. 

He looks at you, hopefully. Clearly, Jake had been expecting you to have a more adverse reaction. When you don't, and you open your arms to hug him, Jake melts into you. As you pet Jake's hair, you use it as a distraction to not think about the fact that he didn't say he would miss you back. It was probably just another one of those things that he didn't want from you. 

"You got us a new puzzle?" He asks you quietly after a while. 

"Yeah, it was also going to be a surprise. I originally got it as a birthday present for you. But I also thought it would be a good backup in case you didn't like the model." 

Jake shifts on the couch so he is lying down and buries his face into your tummy. His body starts to shake, and alarm shoots through you. You don't know what to do except continue playing with Jake's hair and occasionally running your hand down his neck and back in what you can only hope is a soothing motion. 

"What kind of puzzle?" He asks when his shudders die down. His head is still pressed into you, the words muffled. 

"I had it custom-made."

Jake pulls his face away and looks up at you, his eyes slightly puffy and rimmed red. "A custom puzzle?"

"I found this company that makes high-quality jigsaw puzzles out of real wood and then does a replica painting on it." You explain to him. Jake makes a sound closely resembling a whine and buries his face into your tummy again. 

"What painting? Can I see it?" is the next thing he asks. 

"Do you really want to know what it is?" 

"Maybe not." he finally says after long quiet contemplation. "Then I probably wouldn't stop thinking about it." 

"Don't worry, I won't touch it while you are gone. It'll be here waiting for you." I'll be here waiting for you, went unsaid, but you were sure he must feel it; he must know. 

 Jake sits up then, and he is so close to you, only inches away. He is staring at you intently, his breath mingling with yours. You smell the lingering mint that his toothpicks always leave. It takes all of your willpower to resist leaning forward those last few inches to finally find out how much the taste lingers as well. 

Jake's green eyes examine your eyes keenly. Then he is leaning forward, and everything else freezes. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and your heart beats so loudly it drowns out all other sounds. You part your lips the smallest bit in anticipation. At the last moment, Jake turns millimeters to the left, and his lips catch your cheek and just the smallest corner of your mouth. Jake's nose drags up your cheek slightly, almost a nuzzle, as he shifts to press a kiss to your forehead as well. 

"Thank you for the model. It's a thoughtful gift. I'll find somewhere we can store it." Jake whispers into your skin. 

Jake's warm body pressed against yours saps the strength, and you lean heavily into him. It seems to be what Jake had been waiting for when he pulls you down on his chest and pulls the back of the couch blanket over your form, tucking in the edges. 

"Why did you pick this specific aircraft carrier?" He eventually asks, his hand smoothing down your back. You press your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, sighing and relaxing even more.  

"It's the same one Mr. Russ was on. I saw it in one of your pictures." You explain slowly to him, hoping he won't be upset you did a little snooping for your gift. He isn't. Jake makes a hum of acknowledgment but otherwise doesn't comment. 

"What do you need? What can I do for my favorite girl before I go?" Jake's asks, also sounding tired. His Texan twang deepens to a level you have only heard when he is half asleep. You would bet if you were to remove yourself from this embrace, you would find Jake's eyes had already drifted closed. 

"I don't want you worrying over me when you have 100 other things to think about." 

"So stubborn," Jake sighs. It's quiet then, and you relax more into Jake, starting to walk the line between napping and still awake. 

It was one of those naps you never wanted to wake up from. If the universe was kind, it would have let you stay there forever, or at least until you had your fill of Jake. But that request would be a bit longer than forever.  

Two weeks is a much shorter amount of time than you had previously thought. You could only hope the time would keep flying by when Jake was gone. There was packing, doctor's appointments, meetings, and so many goodbyes. Every day there seem to be more goodbyes happening than there were before. 

You had asked him one day as Jake was throwing together some lunch how he stood it. Jake shrugged at first, saying that he got used to it, and now it was just part of the process. Then he had opened up to you and admitted that goodbye sometimes could still exhaust him, and it felt like he was handing out more farewell memories than he had left in him. Jake tried to explain to you that he knew most of the goodbye weren't about him but rather the people he was leaving, so he made time for it. 

"I'm sure your barber would understand if you canceled the dinner with him after your next appointment," You suggest to Jake, trying to see where more time could be made for whatever his secret project out in the shop he had been staying up way too late working on. 

"Honey, I don't think you understand how important a man's barber is." 

"Okay, okay." You say placatingly. Better to leave Jake alone concerning the 2 and ½ hour appointment he scheduled for that. 

"Okay, well, I only see two other times you can cut into," You tell Jake, scrolling through the schedule he had made for his remaining time. 

"Yeah?" He asks from where he is standing by the stove. 

"Tomorrow, when Javy and Marlee come over, or you have this blocked-off time on your last night. The whole evening is blocked off. It doesn't say with who, though." You tell Jake while locking his phone and setting it lightly back on the countertop. 

"Those are the two worst things to shorten," he mutters. Jake blows out a long-frustrated breath. 

"Sorry, Jakers." 

"I'm glad you looked because I was setting that time aside for me. For us to say goodbye to each other."

"Just us?" You ask. 

"If you're free, yeah." You hadn't thought about confronting your own goodbye with Jake. Well, you had, but anytime you did, the emotions you were trying hard to bottle up would threaten to explode, rattling violently behind your ribs.

"That works out perfectly, then. We will push back hanging out by a few hours, giving you plenty of time to finish your project." You grin at him, pleased you were able to figure it out together. 

Jake picks up his phone, frowning. "Yeah, absolutely not. I would beg to monopolize you for the whole day if I knew you didn't have an appointment."

"Jake, what are you talking about? I cleared out that whole day." You check your own calendar to confirm this and run through your mental one as well. 

"I know you did. That's why I'm treating you and Marlene to relax and get your nails at the spa." 

You blink at him, not sure that you heard that correctly. He is typing on his phone, but you see the cheeky look he has every time he looks up. Jake is very pleased with his surprise for you.

"I think I would rather spend that time with you," you tell Jake honestly. He softens hearing that from you. His dimples make a full appearance, and Jake seems less exhausted and more alert. 

"I appreciate that, but I think it will be good to relax for a bit. I've been worried that you've been more worried and stressed than I am. It's important to think of your own needs." Jake reminds you gently. 

"Wow, thank you."

Jake's large hand is warm when it covers your and gives you a quick squeeze. "I'll be an hour or so late with the Machados, but they will understand."

"It'll all work out, Jake," you tell him confidently. 

"Yes, Ma'am. I think it will." Jake responds, but he breaks eye contact before saying it, making unease creep its way under your skin. 

Now, it was his last day. By this time, the next day, Jake would be gone. You had a lot of fun at the spa. It was mostly relaxing. Marlee knew the best ways to keep your spirits high and your mind from wandering too far. Jake had asked that you texted him when you were on your way home. You had but never heard anything back. Even once you got back to the house, you didn't hear anything. You got dressed in something cute but comfy, which Jake had told you was the dress code. After waiting a bit longer, you finally decided to seek him out. 

Downstairs, You hear some banging in the garage, which leads you there. You half push open the door but not so wide you risk ruining whatever surprise could be there, waiting a moment before calling his name. 

"Yes, Ma'am?" Jake says after a decent pause. Then you hear the slamming of three different heavy lids, probably one of his trunks, you assume. 

"Is everything going okay? Is there any way I can help?" You ask while opening the door wider. Before you commit to stepping out into the garage, though, a hand stops the door's movement. Jake standing right in the doorway with you now. 

"Just some last-minute list things," he says almost too cheerily. 

"I thought we checked everything off the list?" Just the day before, you and Jake had crossed off the last items on his pre-deployment checklist. Both of you had been glad to have things done a day early. After a high five, he had picked you up and spun you around the room twice before letting your feet touch the ground again.

"We did," Jake responds, reassuring you. "This is just something that popped up in my head. Not a big deal or anything you need to worry about. Plus, some of the last-minute stuff for tonight."

"Jake, I thought we were just being comfy, hanging out, and saying goodbye?"

"We are," Jake confirms. 

"You aren't going to elaborate, are you?" You ask. 

"I don't want to. But if you really can't take it being a surprise, I'll tell you." Jake admits. You think about it before shrugging and stepping back into the house. Jake follows you in and shuts the garage door firmly behind him. 

"I can wait," you sigh with a pout. Your answer makes Jake smile, though, so you can't really be upset. 

"I am going to change. Will you be ready in fifteen?" 

"Sounds good," you confirm. Jake gives you a thumbs up and starts to jog up the stairs, but halfway up, he comes back down three at a time. 

"I'm sorry. I forgot to ask about your nails." Jake exclaims, shifting his gaze expectantly. You show the design you choose to Jake. He compliments them several times, pleased you had a fun time before he ran up the stairs again. 

"I have a question that's going to shape our whole night. Do you want to go on a drive?" Is what Jake asks you when he returns in a different set of clothes. 

"Sure. Let's go for a drive." You agree. You know Jake has the whole night planned, a fact that makes you a little giddy. It also makes the idea that he built choices for you into the plan even sweeter. He guides you out the front door to where his truck is waiting before helping you inside. Then you two are on the road driving, and an almost painful tense silence descends. 

"This is nice," you finally say, fiddling with your seatbelt. 

Jake shoots a small smile at you like it is a hard thing to do. A harrowing sight on the face of a man born to grin. Jake's mouth never knew when to quit; whether a sarcastic remark quip or an easy smirk, it was up to something. 

"You can't relax, can you?" You ask when he still doesn't say anything. Jake's shoulders slump at your question. 

"No, I can't. My mind is flying faster than my jet."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, thank you." 

You hadn't expected him to take you up on the offer, but you had hoped he would.

"Let me help you," you beg softly. Jake's hands tighten around the steering wheel, and his knuckles whiten. 

"Six months is a long time. Nine, even more. I could come home in nine months, and you could have a baby." 

"A baby?" you splutter. Jake nods back solemnly. 

"A baby, a husband, new friends, a different car. You could have a whole new life." Jake says these like each one is not only in the realm of possibility but also that he expects them all to happen simultaneously. 

"Well, I'm not planning for any of those things to happen. And I can tell you, with certainty, there won't be a baby or husband."

"Never say never."

You did want to say never, though. You wanted to hammer that point home to him. The idea of having either of those things without Jake intrinsically involved isn't even fathomable to you anymore. You can't say that out loud. You can't open that conversation because, in a matter of hours, he will be gone. It was beside the point to tell Jake that you already had a whole new life, one with him. 

"Okay, Justin Bieber. Never say never." You tell him by throwing air quotes around the phrase with an eye roll. 

Jake cracks a weak chuckle at your joke and settles back in his seat, fighting the urge to fidget. Then he summarizes, "It's a long time."

"It's not so very long. Less time than I've lived here." You mention. Jake nods along with your words, but they don't seem to help him feel any better. 

"Come, Jake, what's really bothering you?" You pry again. 

"I'll tell you, just give me some breathing room, Sugar. Please." Jake requests. 

You apologize for being pushy, which Jake instantly forgives, and silence descends. Jake drives until he finds somewhere to park the truck for y'all to look at the stars. He had carefully led you across the uneven ground to the back of the truck. You gasp when you see the setup. 

In the truck back, you find a blown-up air mattress filling the space, along with ample blankets and pillows. There is also a cooler and picnic basket in the back corner. Jake helps you get in the back before anything else. As you get comfy, he rolls the canvas top of his soft-shell camper back, revealing the quickly approaching night sky. It's a beautiful setup, and your compliments over it are waved off by Jake nonchalantly. However, he can't completely hide the pink that dusts his cheeks either. 

Once on the bed, Jake settles infuriatingly far away from you, leaving a large gap. No part of you is even close to touching. He stares up at the stars, looking troubled. You have already tried to push him to talk to you tonight, though, so you won't again. Instead, you simply enjoy the moment and look up at the stars.  

"Thank you," Jake says a while later. You don't ask what for. It doesn't feel necessary. You also worry about how long he might drag out a list. 

Jake slides his hand across the space between you. You are alerted to it when you feel the light brush of his pinky along yours. You turn your hand and let it catch his. As always, Jake wastes no time taking what he is given. He threads his fingers with yours, and his thumb starts up tracing along the back of your hand and wrist. 

"Is this where you draw all the constellations out for me and wow me with your impressive knowledge of astronomy?" 

Jake huffs a small laugh, "Not this time, sugar."

"Have I finally found something you don't know about, Jake?" You playfully gasp. 

"Oh, please, honey. You know me better than that." Jake chastises, turning his head away from the sky to give you an unimpressed look. 

"Yeah, I do. You are probably about to tell me how you did an internship at NASA." Jake opens his mouth with a tiny smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. Your eyes widen, and you speak before he can say anything. "I swear you better not be about to tell me you did have a NASA internship. I will lose my mind." 

Jake snaps his mouth shut, but the small smug smirk doesn't fade from view. You move, so you are more propped up to see more of his face. You try to analyze any hidden information on his features there. 

"Goodness. Jake, no way. Did you actually?" You ask. The longer Jake leaves you hanging, the more unsure you are. 

"Do you know what my dream is?" He asks you, ignoring your question and changing the topic. You huff in annoyance. It's not annoying; you can't feel that when trying to be some porous surface attempting to absorb as much as possible. The fact that he will be gone haunts your every movement and word in hours.  

"What's your dream, Jake?" You respond good-naturedly. 

"To go on Jeopardy," he answers automatically. It's a quick, instant response. You laugh at him, and his chuckles join in moments later.  

"We could probably make that happen." You say when you can breathe properly again. You picture getting Jake on the show, where he would insist on wearing his whites. 

"It's not my only dream, though," Jake says warmly. 

"Is it not?" you say lightly. 

"No," Jake responds in a much more serious tone. You abandoned the pretense of looking at the stars. Turning on your side, you stare at Jake instead of trying to memorize him. The slope of his nose and of the line of his neck. 

"Has it always been your dream? When you were a little kid, did you want to grow up and be on Jeopardy?"

"It was one of them," Jake reveals. 

"What were some of the others?" Jake's hand goes loose in yours, and you think that he might pull away. That you had overstepped. 

"Common Jakers, you can tell me. It's okay if you want to be something weird." 

"They aren't worth mentioning, and I don't want to trigger you with anything, sugar."

"Why would I be triggered?" You ask him, giving his hand a small squeeze. 

"Not everyone would call my childhood warm, but it could have been worse. I know that isn't the best topic."

"I want you to tell me, Jake. I'll stop you if it's too much, okay?" You say after thinking of your boundaries and the likelihood something would trigger you. 

"You promise?" He asks. Jake turns his head again to meet your eyes deadly seriously.

"Yes, I promise. Now, what was little Jake's dream job?"

"It was to be a pilot."

"You're living the dream job, then?"

"Yeah, I sure am. However, back then, I wanted to be a pilot, so I could fly far away." The weight of his words isn't lost on you. 

"Jake, what happened? You can tell me if you want." He heaves a heavy hard sigh at your kind words. He is clearly preparing himself to speak about something difficult. 

"My dad wasn't a good man, and my mama let him break her. He broke me too. To the outside world, he seemed like the perfect loving husband and father. At home, it was a different story. My dream was to be free, be a bird finally let out of my cage. 

"The older I got, the better I was at taking the beatings. There was this one time I was 13 years old and chopping some wood for Miss Celeste. I was doing it wrong, I guess, so he threw a log at my head. It hit me so hard that I saw stars, and my ears rang for two days after. Tali had to superglue my head closed enough that I would be able to walk over to see Miss Celeste and get it properly stitched up." Jake reaches up his hand, and it ghosts along the back of his head, remembering the age-old hurt. His eyes briefly press tightly closed, shutting out the memory.

"After that, I figured I could take any beating, any lecture, any mean word. I could take it all. So, I did take it all. I wasn't going to let him hit my ma or my sister. I learned how it wasn't hard to capture his attention. Especially if he was already worked up." 

You want to cry for him. You can't get the picture of Jake as a young, bruised, beaten, and bloody child out of your head. That boy walking the five miles to his grandmother's house, half stumbling, half running. Jake having poked at his dad before a hand came down on his mom or sister. How it was probably a common occurrence. 

"Jake, I am so sorry." You squeeze his hand sympathetically, feeling your heartache painfully for him. 

"When I finished my first year at USNA, I decided enough. After plebe summer, I was probably the most fit I have ever been in my whole life. It's funny how he raised me to go to a military academy, and that was the same place that would be the end for him. I went home for winter break, and everything had changed. I was bigger than him, stronger, quicker. I knew I was better in every way than him. I hadn't just done well at USNA. I had excelled, thrived even. There was absolutely no reason to cower and take it anymore. So, the next time he tried to hit me over winter break, I took it, but I warned him. I said I'm a grown man. You hit me again; I'll hit you back."

"And?" You gasp. 

"I stayed true to my word like any half-decent man would. The next time he hit me I hit him back." Responds Jake not able to completely keep the hint of satisfaction out of his voice. Your fingers flex in his, and Jake takes a long-measured breath. He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see the tension he is holding. 

"I would always goad his anger onto me. If I found him already mad at Ma or Talia, I would find some way to make sure his attention came back to me. I could take a punch in the face, a slap, or some other punishment. It was easier to explain that Jakobi is scrappy and gets into fights with the ladies and church than for my mom to try and claim she fell again or some other half-ass excuse." 

"Everyone just pretends like nothing is happening," you say quietly. 

"Yup. They don't want to address it, but how could they not know?" 

"Exactly," you confirm, thinking of similar situations you went through growing up. 

"It was my first-time home since Winter, and Miss Celeste and Mr. Russ were even coming over for dinner. Dad didn't like how Ma set the table, it wasn't hard for me to step in. Then the next thing I know, he is in my face screaming everything under the sun. Mind you, not any of it was good, and then he tried to punch me. 

"I hit him back, and I didn't fucking stop. Not until there was blood, and then I kept going for a bit more. After taking it over and over for my whole life, I snapped. Don't know what would have happened if Miss Celeste and Mr. Russ hadn't shown up." 

Jake is squeezing your hand hard. Even though the air is cool and fresh in the back of the pickup, it feels tainted, full of long-past memories and hate. Jake takes a moment, clearly needing a breather, regulating the old emotions bubbling in him. 

"It was stupid and risky. If he hadn't been so ashamed, if he wasn't so full of pride, my Da' could have ruined everything for me. Wouldn't have been hard to get my ass thrown in jail and kicked out of the naval academy. 18 years of work and my future and life could have been down the drain in one fell swoop. I am lucky. He knew how that would look reflected back on him. Beat within an inch of his life by his own son, and then that same son was dishonorably discharged. It is probably the only reason I got away with it."

Jake shakes his head wryly; you watch as he uses his free hand to pull his toothpick case out of his pocket. He secures one tightly in his teeth, the minty smell drifting towards you as he snaps the case shut. 

"He deserved it. He deserved every blow, and a million more still wouldn't have been penance for what he did. I think he learned his lesson, in the end. He didn't try to fight me unless he was very drunk after that. Was better to Tali and Ma too."

"And now?"

"Now, he is dead," Jake says plainly, not betraying any grief or sadness over that fact to you. 

"Oh," you say. You think maybe you should say you're sorry, but that wouldn't be the truth. Instead, you are glad that this man who committed such evil and was so terrible to Jake is no longer around. 

"He died four months before I got my wings." 

"Oh, Jake. That is so much. I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that." You whisper. Pulling your hand, he still has clenched in his grasp up to his lips. Jake presses a lingering kiss to your pulse point. 

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. I wish I could have stopped it sooner. Protected Tali and my Ma better. They never deserved to go through that." 

"You didn't deserve to go through that either," You add to Jake's statement. 

"I don't know. It was my responsibility to take care of them. I never should have let that all happen in the first place. I could have stood up to him much sooner. I will say, at least it gave me a leg up in basic." You try to contain your cringe hearing that mentality from Jake. 

"No, Jake, stop. You don't understand. You didn't deserve to go through that. You still would have made it through Plebe year just fine. And you're wrong. It was never your responsibility." You try to impress upon him. 

"Of course, it was my responsibility," Jake protests. 

You sit up, no longer able to handle the nonchalance of lying down for this conversation. He keeps your hand in his, not letting you pull away from him. Jake needs to know this, though. You need him to understand. Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you make sure his eyes aren't anywhere but on yours. 

 "You were a child, Jakers. A kid. I don't care if you're a boy or the oldest. You were a child. You had adults around you. It was their responsibility to protect you. It was your Ma's and Miss Celeste and Mr. Russ. They should have been the ones helping you. It was their job to do that, not the other way around." 

Jake's mouth drops in as he processes your words. Then he whispers. "I guess I was just a kid." 

"You wouldn't expect Franny to do what you did. Would you?" You ask him gently. At the mention of his niece, Jake's teeth clench together. You can practically see the anger bubbling in him at anyone even saying something unkind to his niece, let alone what he went through. 

"No, I wouldn't," he grits out. 

"No, you wouldn't," you agree with Jake's answer. 

His stubble prickles at your hand, but you ignore the feeling and continue watching him. His green eyes meet yours steadily as Jake tilts his face to kiss your palm. After which, he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath like he is preparing himself for something. 

"I have to tell you something. I can't leave before apologizing or having this conversation. You deserve me to be fair to you, and you deserve to be treated right. So, I need to put something out there in the open, just in case you haven't figured it out or it hasn't been made clear yet."

"You can tell me anything, Jake." You tell him steadily despite that extremely ominous intro. You hope it will help him feel at ease, but if anything, he tenses up more. Moving so that he is sitting up, Jake's face is pulled from your hand. He retracts his hand from yours as well. Your palm feels cold without his and a little sweaty, which only adds to the overall chilling effect. 

"I am broken, Sugar. I think I know what you want from me, but I am too messed up. I can't give that feeling back to you like you deserve. I want it to be clear it's not you. I don't think I can truly ever feel that way. I don't know if I'm capable."

You briefly consider what you are hearing; Jake knows you love him and has probably known for a while. It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. What hurts more is that he feels this way about himself. You do your best to swallow down your own feelings and put them in the corner to unpack and deal with some other time when you are alone. 

"Oh. I see." You finally manage to stutter out. Jake does look genuinely apologetic and upset as well, which is some small consolation. 

"I just. I can't. I'm not built for it. Whatever that part is in people that lets them feel and talk that way, I'm missing that piece. I don't think it's even missing. I never had one to start with. I wish I could. I wish for you, but I am broken, Sugar. I am so sorry." 

You want to protest. You want to shake Jake and tell him he isn't broken. He can love, he should love, and he does love all the time. You see that aspect of him constantly. You see it when he calls his niece every week. His phone calls with his Ma and Mrs. Celeste. The way he worries over his junior officers. You see it when he spends time with Javy and Marlee. More often than not, Jake is almost bursting at the seams with love. 

You suck in a deep breath as you consider how Jake can express love. You can't help but consider how he is with you. Jake has been showing he cares about you. You have never once questioned if he had any affection or positive feelings for you, only if any romantic ones were mixed in. That all the actions you thought were hints, a slight implication he might feel the same way, were actually declarations. 

And now here Jake is saying that is all he can give you. How Jake has loved you all along. He is trying to tell you, 'Here it is. Here is my affection. This is the best I can do. You won't ever get more than what you have right now. 

You think about that for a minute. You would never get more from Jake. He will never say the words he loves you, and he will never romantically love you. There won't ever be rings, or a honeymoon, no anniversaries. There won't be a cute baby with a mix of your and Jake's features. 

So, you have to decide if what he does give you is enough. Was doing puzzles with him enough? Was talking for hours on end? Was cuddling? Maybe not, you briefly think. However, when you think of the feeling of safety, he provides that you had never experienced anywhere else. You think of that, and you have your answer. 

You accept it. You can live with it; you can love him enough that it fills in the gaps. Knowing he loves you at all, even a little bit, even if he cannot say it. It's enough. It's enough to get to keep him. It's enough because even if Jake believes he isn't capable of love, that's part of him, and if it's part of Jake... well, water is wet, isn't it? 

"You aren't broken, Jake," you finally say after long and quiet deliberation. 

"I am," he disagrees. "I'm twisted and broken. I can't be good for you." 

"God, Jake. You already are. Sweet man." You firmly reach out to hold his cheeks in both hands, staring hard into his eyes. Your grip is firm. "Handsome, you already are a good man to me."

Jake shakes his head against your hold and slams his eyes closed. You soothe your thumb across the stubble on his cheeks, tracing extra softly under his eyes. However, he refuses to open them for you again. 

"Listen to me, Jake." He screws his eyes even tighter at the request. It reminds of a little bit of a petulant child, and despite your own heartbreak, you just want to smooth the lines of his face out and make sure this isn't hanging over him before he goes. 

"Jakobi," you beg in the softest, sweetest tone possible. You wait for him to open back up before going on. You hate trying to gauge his emotions when you can't see his face. He does eventually open them, with his gaze trained on you. In the dark, you can't wholly make out the green of his eyes, but that's okay. 

"You are good, and you are a gift, an absolute marvel. You are not broken. You don't have to feel any which way for me. You do not have to be anything more than you are right now. You could never change or completely change, but I will still love you the same."

"Thank you," he says. 

"No need to be thankful for the truth," you tell him kindly. 

He shocks both of you by crying. You are so surprised by it that your hands fall from his face. A tear falls down Jake's face, and he pushes it away, looking at his wet fingers in surprise. His eyebrows quirk, drawing together in the middle. Then more tears fall as he blinks in distress. The more he cries, the more upset he seems to be about the fact that he is crying. 

"Jake, can I hold you?" you ask him hurriedly but not wanting to trigger him further with any unwanted touch. Jake nods, and he turns towards you falling into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him and pull him into your chest. Jake's arms snake around your hips, pulling you flush to him.

The two of you just hold each other for a long while, breathing each other in. When Jake pulls out of the embrace, he doesn't go far. He only pulls away to fully look at your face. 

"You know, I can't leave without hearing your laugh. I think that's one of the last things on the to-do list."

"I didn't read that on the to-do list, and I checked it twice this morning." You say, pretending to be confused. Jake's fingers flex, gripping you tighter for a moment before relaxing again. 

"It's just my notes app one," Jake mutters, taking you seriously, his eyebrows creasing. 

"That makes two things that on this secret to-do list you are keeping from me. Is there something I don't know?" You try to urge him into the joke with you again. Jake just looks more and more removed from you, though. You are desperate to fight against that, wanting to keep him as close as possible for every second you have left. You nudge his leg with your foot playfully and let go of some of your inhibitions. If Jake will never admit to loving you, you might as well throw caution to the wind.

"I can't believe you have been keeping a second to-do list on the side and not including me," you tell Jake in a more obviously teasing way. You pull lightly at the short hair at the base of his skull. It makes him sigh in a way that leaves you feeling like you need to chase that high.  

"It isn't like that, darling. I promise," Jake says, catching up to the joke now. A playful smile smooths out his face, and his eyes aren't so distant now. 

"Oh, I've heard that excuse a million times."

"A million? That's a pretty big number."

“Well I grant you this, it’s not always to-do lists, sometimes it's calendars, calculators, personal planners, whiteboards, notepads. Somethings always being hidden from me. You hid a whole bathtub.”

“I did not hide the bathtub from you!” Jake protests light heartedly. 

“Sure you didn’t, Seresin. But I have to ask, are you hiding anything else from me?”

“Nothing! I promise.”

“You know you can be honest with me, Jake.” You remind him playfully pinching his cheek.

“I am!” Jake whines while pouting. 

“Okay. Well then I am sure you won’t mind telling me about what I found in your truck glove box…” You trail off trying hard to keep it in.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Jake shrugs in denial. 

“Is that so?” You question him giving him one last opportunity to think. 

“Yes,” Jake whines dragging out the s for an unnecessarily long time. 

“Okay,” you sigh heavily. By his neck you pull him back a bit and try to maintain the straightest most serious face possible. He is nodding along already. “Then how exactly do you explain the 300 hot sauce packets in there?”

Jake gasps and pulls further away from the close embrace you two had adapted. 

“How did you find those?” He gasps. 

“You didn’t even hide them! They were literally under your gas, mileage, and maintenance tracking book.” 

“Sugar, I don't know what to say.”

“Did you not only four days ago tell me we were out of hot sauce?”

“That definitely might have occurred. But,” 

“You’ve been caught red handed, Seresin.” You sigh, shaking your head as if you are extremely disappointed in him. 

“Woah, hold your horses, now.” Jake request clearly ready to launch into an explanation.

“Sir, this is a sting. Please save your excuses for the MP. They are on their way to this location as we speak.”

Jake’s eyes widen and he looks around the empty and very far removed area he had driven the truck. Clearly pretending to be panicked, he turns up his drama meter to the max setting crying out pleadingly, “It’s a misunderstanding. There’s been a  framing, trickery, bamboozlement even!”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, by me. ” Jake says intensely THen he shifts his whole demeanor pulling on a serious confidence, and utters “Ma’am I work for the FBI we have been instigating you this entire time.”

“On what grounds?” You gasp in fake outrage. 

“There have been multiple reports that link you to the scene of several art thefts. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What can I say? I see something precious, and I just decide it has to be mine”  You say with a shrug.  “We live in a free country, that should be one of my god given protected rights.” 

“To steal? We should review the commandments, honey.”

“No, to have precious things.” You correct him before continuing, “Isn’t that your whole military shtick? Protecting freedoms and all that?”

It takes two beats before Jake can’t take it anymore and starts roaring with laughter. That’s all it takes for you to crack up as well. Was there anything better than Jake’s smile and laugh? You thought the answer was probably no. Nothing compares.

You and Jake laugh together and don’t stop. It keeps dragging on, cycling through all of Jake's laughs including a snort or two. It's that type of laughing that makes your diaphragm ache. The longer it's drawn out, the more deranged the sounds you two make become. Finally, it decrescendos, trailing off to You and Jake are wrapped around each other, and his forehead presses against yours. 

Your breath mingles together. You appreciate the warmth, the relief, and underneath it all, as is often found in Jake's eyes, the deep-seated sadness there. It almost feels easier for you now. Easier with the guesswork and hope gone, easier to focus on what it should have been about all along, you and Jake. You don't have to think about hidden meanings, secrets, or signs. 

It lets you be wholly consumed by the details of Jake instead. How he radiates heat and almost always manages to smell good. The sturdiness of his hands with their well-manicured blunt nails. The fine lines he had around his eyes. You try to memorize exactly what color green his eyes are in the dark like this. Each detail you notice is more catching and striking than the last.  

You categorize each part of him he is willing to share. Finally, with your chest still hurting, from laughing, from tonight, or from the lingering knowledge of a goodbye, it doesn’t really matter. Jake is here now though still with you.  So you offer him a soft smile and let more of your skull's weight press into his. 

"Ah, there she is," Jake breathes to himself. Then his hand is on the side of your neck, tilting you to meet his eyes a little more directly. He wears one of your favorite smiles, where the edges twitch upwards, and his eyes are tender.  

"I got a question for you," he mutters. 

"I got an answer," you tell him just as softly. 

"Are you sure?"

"Ask me your question," is all you give him for a response. 

Jake leans in closer to you, and his lips brush past your cheek dragging along the skin to whisper his question in your ear. You only take a moment to think of your answer. It doesn't take more than meeting the honest vulnerability in his eyes. The answer falls from you easily. After all, it was the question you were expecting.

It’s the last question Jake asks you for 6 ½ months, his entire deployment, with not one single word, complete radio silence. 

[jakowskis]

torchwood fanfic resources

so i'm a chronic livejournal archaeologist, and fixating on 2000s media is particularly fun for me because it means i get to go digging on lj / dw / old fanfic forums. below you'll find some of the excavations from my torchwood fixation (give it up for month 6!) it's pretty much got every comm i've ever stumbled upon and found useful, or thought others would find useful. it's largely fanfic-oriented, though there's some more generalized comms, too. i hope you guys enjoy!

i was originally going to include a link to my reclist on this post as well, but it's still a wip, so i'll just post that separately in the future.

general disclaimer: most of the content here is from 2006-2013 or so. period-typical attitudes may pop up in places. i'm not sure if most modern tw fans have witnessed the original fandom at all, but i felt a need to say this anyway, because i've seen some icky stuff. i've warned for anything notable. gwen bashing in particular may unfortunately pop up in some of these comms, especially in the comments, so tread carefully.

if you're new to probing through old lj comms, remember to always have the wayback machine on hand, because you're going to run into a lot of purged accounts and seemingly lost fics, but sometimes you get lucky and something's been archived :)

as of the date i'm posting this, all of these comms are still accessible, but if you're from the future and some have been deleted, again, go ahead and give the wayback machine a try. additionally, livejournal has a system that includes 'cross-posting' in which, if authors choose to (and the majority of them do, to get their fics more visibility), fics get posted to multiple comms at once. so chances are, even if one comm gets deleted, the contents will survive through other comms. kind of like how reblogs continue to exist even when the original blog is deleted.

finally, ctrl + f is your best friend if you have a specific ship/character/trope you're invested in, especially in comms with less than ideal tagging systems. if a comm does have a substantial tagging system, you can find all of its tags by adding '/tags' the end of the urls i've provided.

ok... let's begin :-)

assorted livejournal communities

✎ torch-wood: this is essentially a torchwood subreddit. it started before the show even aired, and one of the highlights of it is episode reaction posts (easily accessible on the right side of the lj) that document how everyone immediately reacted to the eps, which is pretty damn cool, fandom-history wise. only thing i should mention is there's quite a lot of gwen and owen bashing in the comments of some of those reaction posts, so just be wary of that if you love those two like i do, 'cuz it's a bit of a bummer.

✎ torchwood-three: this comm is an extremely cool then-daily newsletter (that still updates sometimes?!) that compiled as much fan-content as it could find into cleanly organized lists. the posts made immediately after new episodes aired contain reactions, discussions, meta, theories, new fic, fanmixes, just about everything. very very cool to go back and see the way the fandom was thinking as the show was airing and as they were getting to know the characters. here's a direct link to all posts made in late 2006, during the airing of s1.

✎ torchwood-fic: exactly what it says on the tin. desktop layout is easy to navigate, tags are all there!

✎ torchwood-fic's profile page also features a list of affiliated accounts that's pretty handy. it's worth taking a peek at, in case i've excluded anything in this post that you might be interested in.

✎ twgenrefinders: handy dandy comm where people would ask for fics of a certain variety & be treated with reclists, or hyper-specific fics... pretty cool stuff, ive got several threads bookmarked to sort through the links later. ofc, please note that some of the things people asked for might be stinky. particularly i've seen a lot of ppl requesting gwen bashing fics :/

✎ twstoryfinder: cousin to the above comm; here, people would ask for a very specific fic they'd lost. it's kind of fun to find fics through because you get someone describing memorable scenes + hyping it up, so it's different than just a standard summary. this one still gets posted on, too, which is crazyyy.

✎ tw-unpaired: for gen fics! no romance allowed! there's some good character studies + friendship fics in there. stuff's tagged by character + authors are even tagged, in case you find one whose writing you particularly enjoy. this is v useful for when someone's main journal has been deleted.

✎ torchwood-decaf: a comm where janto is BANNED. nah i'm kidding, it's not anti-janto, it was just made because janto is so huge that it overshadows everything else. pretty smart, tbh; wading through the sheer mass of janto content can be tiresome.

✎ jack-in-cuffs: for dark tw fic, or uber smutty tw fic. as a fan of dark!fic, there's some goodies in here, but of course it's not everyone's cup of tea. most of the writers included warnings, but if you go a little further back, some people weren't as courteous; navigate with caution.

✎ jack-owen: for fic featuring our captain and his (second favorite) doctor. i know this pairing's kinda divisive nowadays, but i enjoy it a lot. the comm's got a dismal tagging system and, ngl, i don't truly like any of the fics there (i'm very intrigued by jack and owen's relationship but i've never found fic that really does them justice, and i still haven't figured out how to write them myself) - but i'll include it anyway.

✎ odetojoi: for fic featuring owen in the middle of a janto sandwich, for those of us who are allergic to women (/sarcasm). there's an oddly impressive supply of fics of the three of them, and a good chunk of them can be found in this comm. (everytime i see this comm i think of a certain abbreviation found in p/rnogr/phy... but i digress)

✎ halfwee-and-tea: for ianto x owen fic. haven't gone through this one much, truthfully. i hate when comms have no tagging systems agh.

✎ owenharper-fans: a comm for the saddest undeadest bisexualest doctor around. also features a few burn appreciation posts, which is nice to see pre-pac rim era. mostly just features a shit ton of owen fic, particularly owen x ianto fic. mostly sufficiently tagged. if you need me once i post this, btw, i will be balls deep in this comm.

✎ the pro-owen alliance: another owen-focused comm - i think this one was made directly in response to owen bashing. haven't combed through this one much but it's got a fair amount of fics.

✎ house-of-cooper: a gwen comm! made in response to gwen bashing. haven't gone through it, but i'm glad it exists.

✎ torchwoodcoffee: ianto comm! this one's hugeee. the majority of it's janto, but the pairings aren't tagged, which is really frustrating. about 6k fics on there, though! just untagged. fff.

✎ tw-femficfest: a comm for fic about any and all of the torchwood ladies. tagging's cleanly done & there's some handy fic round ups, too.

✎ tw-femslash: yuri!!! wahoo!!! a comm for f/f tw ships. there's quite a lot of fic on here, but unfortunately there's no tagging whatsoever. sigh.

✎ tw-classic: a comm for 'all things series one and two of torchwood'. was made after s3 and was popular around s4 out of nostalgia for the golden age <3 good amount of fic, discussions, etc.

✎ torchwood-house: this comm is, like, letterboxd, but for torchwood fanfic. basically a group of individuals who thought of themselves as having Good Taste would read Good Fic and then go in this comm and write a post about why they recommend it. it's well-made, easy to scroll through, and sells the fics v well, and it kinda gets you more excited to read them when you get to see someone hype them up with Fancy Words. it's like a little torchwood yaoi bookclub. we're eating quiche

✎ tw100: a drabble challenge; this thing's full of 100 word drabbles. ngl i hate drabbles but i'm throwing it in here anyway

✎ touchyerwood: i love kink memes... i love kink memes less when my favorite character/pairing is unpopular. the pac rim kink meme's been a blessing bc i'm a basic ass newmann - the torchwood kink meme? not so much. it's got a fair amount of shit, though, so maybe someone else will appreciate it. this one isn't the original, that one's been wiped off the internet, to my chagrin. keep in mind before digging that people in kink memes are horny & gross. that's your warning.

✎ reel-torchwood: for any and all movie aus... ok i have a bone to pick with this comm. i'm a big movie nerd, i love film, i've seen dozens of films i've thought would make good aus - i combed through this and there is not a SINGLE fic in there that piqued my interest. NOTHING. needless to say my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. i'm sure my experiences aren't universal though.

✎ torchwoodslash: ah, remember when we called it slash? gee whiz. i'm not big on this comm, it's not very user friendly + there's like no tags whatsoever so it's extremely hard to navigate. enter at your own risk & good luck, lol.

✎ rounds-of-kink: this isn't a torchwood-exclusive comm, but it's got a sizeable torchwood tag, which can be found here. pretty organized tagging system; makes me happy.

✎ tw-declassified: this comm was mainly used for running a 'torchwood bingo', which, i've been in other fandoms that do episode bingos and it's usually cute... this one confused me a little so i didn't bother peeking around too much, but still a cool little bit of fandom history.

✎ writerinadrawer: this was an annual torchwood writer's challenge that ran for four years... it's kinda hard to navigate but it does have some fic in it so i'm putting it here.

✎ dmarley-recs: a recs journal someone ran for compiling torchwood fic; it's got a l o t of recs on there, largely jack/ianto.

ok and straying from lj briefly for two other places to find fic...

✎ kink_bingo: this is a dreamwidth comm, and it's not torchwood-exclusive, so i've linked straight to the torchwood tag. this comm has a livejournal equivalent, but for some reason the tw tag is pretty barren on that one? not sure why. but on dw it's got a fair amount. the tagging system is rough, it tags fandom and kink but not pairing, which is irritating, and every post is hidden under a cut AND makes you go through a discretion barrier every single time (but probably only if you don't have an account? i'm not logged in) which makes navigation a pain. but i dunno, more smut, if you want it.

✎ whofic.com: this site is for doctor who fic, but it's got a very substantial amount of torchwood fic. i do not, however, like the formatting at all. i'm being overly nice; i HATE the formatting. it's very reminiscent of fanfic dot net but, like, worse. it reminds me of adultfanfiction dot org which was a NIGHTMARE to use. but! there is torchwood fic there so it's going in here.

aaaand there we go! that's all i have. i hope these prove handy! enjoy :D

[manifestingkai]

The “SO EXCITED!!” Method:

This is my very first “method” and I’m so happy to share it.

✨DISCLAIMER:

You don’t need methods to manifest, methods can be a cool way to switch it up and make things fun. YOU are the power behind any method you use, not the method

The method has nothing to do with actual feelings lol

This method involves the use of affirming/states and the law of expectancy which (in my opinion) works parallel to the law of assumption.

This method involves the use of affirming/states and the law of expectancy which (in my opinion) works parallel to the law of assumption.

Law of expectancy is essentially what you’re expecting to happen is what will happen. Video with a more in-depth explanation here.

I’ve always been an affirming girlie but I’ve always believed in doing that in the way that’s most comfy for you. You don’t need to repeat the same 3 sentences. You can have inner convos, you can affirm whatever comes to mind that implies you have/are getting it.

✨THE METHOD

It’s very simple, I affirm/think to myself either out loud or in my head how excited I am that x is happening, that I’m about to get y, or that I finally have z.

I do this through affirming but it can be done using any technique you would usually use or love (scripting, SATS, lullaby method, visualizing - this method is very malleable to you in my opinion).

For me, telling myself that I am excited about something leads actually feeling excitement or anticipation about it.

It tricks my brain into thinking that I’m feeling excited about my desire either happening or has happened!

The important element is that when you’re thinking of it you will think of it as if it happened already, happening now or is GUARANTEED to happen.

The placebo of “excitement” really has helped me to live in the end / think as if and my body definitely believes it too.

With this technique and any others, the key is to persist and stand firm about what you want.

You either have it / know you are 100% getting it or you don’t have it.

Those two versions of you or realities can’t exist at the same time. Are you the person who has it or not?

Once again, you don’t have to actually feel excitement. You don’t have to “feel” anything while manifesting.

Thinking (affirming) that you’re excited about it implies that you have or are getting what you want (imo) and for me it has a physiological effect on the brain and body which I’ve found helpful in maintaining the state of having what I want or thinking as if, whichever wording you’d prefer to use (since it’s all one and the same, really).

✨ CONCLUSION

I think this method is similar to the “isn’t it wonderful” technique by Neville. You can sub the phrase out for whatever you’d like, really. “It’s it amazing”, “I’m so glad.”

I like specifics and this specific one has been successful for me.

When I affirm that I am excited, it creates thoughts that follow of anticipating or expecting my desire to push out and then it does.

I don’t use this method for everything but I do like it and have manifested successfully with it so I wanted to share.

Things I’ve successfully manifested with this method:

my apartment that I now live in

my new phone and tablet (+ manifested them to be delivered early from a 4+ week back order)

lots of food and being spoiled a lot!

✨EXAMPLES

Specific affirmations:

I’m so excited that I’m moving to x next year

I’m so excited I just got the offer for the job I really wanted

I’m so excited SP and I are getting back together I can’t wait

I’m so excited about the deposit I just got out of nowhere

Blanket affirmations:

I’m so excited

I’m so excited about how perfect my life is

I’m so excited because I always get what I want

I’m so excited because manifesting is so easy for me

✨ MY ND TAKE:

I have a tendency to hyper-fixate / hyper-focus on things and I’ve noticed it shows up when I’m consciously manifesting too.

Being “excited” about my desire has worked similarly to self soothing. If I am excited, I’m probably safe and thinking from a good place.

Thinking as if I am excited gives the placebo to my brain that I am, more thoughts and feelings that reflect those feelings follow naturally. It helps to continue to think as if I have what I want.

I am not perfect. I have bad brain day and bad thoughts. We are human, it happens. If you are doing your best each day, being consistent and sticking to the story that you’ve created then it IS working and you are doing everything right!

We can and do manifest regardless of how we actually feel.

We can feel shitty and still get what we want.

We can have mental health issues and still get what we want.

We can be ND and still get what we want.

Sometimes in our process we also find creative ways to support our brains too, and I think that’s pretty incredible of us!

Source: my thread on Twitter

[localsharkcryptid]

Fuck it, I NEED to talk about a hyper specific headcanon I have for cpunz.

So the sort of precontext for this is that I have this idea for Punz being something called a False Selkie, a concept of mine but to put it simply they're like selkies but substantially more fucked up and predatory (think seal + the loch ness monster). They are like what kelpies are to horses kinda - fucked up predator edition ya know.

Punz specifically is a False Selkie with traits from a Leopard Seal, they may also be the local lake/water cryptid of the dsmp but that's for another post. Either way, I have the idea that they can make vocalizations like a leopard seal - kinda like in this video where people are being sooo fuckin stupid but it's the only thing I've found where you can really here that clunking noise they make. This sound in general for leopard seals (and by extension Punz) basically means "Fuck off", it's a threat, a warning to back up or else learn why they're an apex predator under most circumstances. It is also used to drive off rivals and probably equivalents to "Fuck off, I'm bigger and this (territory or whatever) is mine".

---

Punz does of course have very good control over his emotions and reactions to things, years of training to be able to suppress most things in favor of their job. But they've struggled with being able to stop making that threat sound in the later days of the SMP once the plan is in place, usually no one is ever close enough to here that subtle clunk, clunk, clunk that wells in the back of their throat now and again but it's there. It's a warning, a threat and the only tell they have to show that they are feigning politeness with the idiots of the server and no one ever really hears it. Even if they did who's to say it was coming from Punz? As far as everyone knew, Punz was simply a little off, they had no idea what he was so it would probably be brushed off.

Dream had heard it once or twice before the plan went into effect, but he eventually heard it properly the day he explained what happened in the prison- he had known of Punz's true nature but the sounds caught him off guard, Punz showed little emotion, they were a person of action most days but now they stood before him, slightly hunched over a table and making that deep clicking that almost echoed in the room. A threat but also a promise, a promise to set things right, to break even at the very least - after all the diet of a leopard seal includes flightless birds and well, they sure as hell hadn't ever seen Quackity fly.

Additionally they would no doubt use this sound as a challenge, Punz and Sapnap are more than prone to bumping heads- though their fights never got very far in the original days of the SMP, and even then it was mostly snide comments from Punz that were jabs to purposely get under the blazeborne's skin. But eventually the two cross paths later on in the days of the SMP - perhaps a situation where Sapnap feels the need to be a hero or simply a time where things go differently and Punz has to be between Sapnap and Dream. Either way their jabs, their cold comments purposely made to try and get Sapnap to make the first move are accented with that deep clicking except this time it's practically a threat phrased as an invitation. "Do it, I dare you, give me a reason."

There's one more time where the sound is heard, the first time it's heard in fact. In the dark of a hidden bunker, deafened by screams as those of L'manberg were betrayed. Wilbur is the one to hear it. In fact he heard it in the walls behind him before the button was even pressed. An ominous series of deep clicking sounds that were not human is what also befell the president's ears when he lost his first life.

(this string of thoughts also works with them being a normal selkie too tbh)

Anyways I'm deranged about my cPunz interpretation and my favorite hobby is making them horrifying<3

[secret-engima]

*dramatically leaps down from Hokage mountain like an anime op*

HI I HAVE MORE UCHIHA CLAN THOUGHTS.

-I’ve seen the HC floating around that the Uchiha are really ableist about blindness and people with vision problems, like ostracizing a clan member etc. To which I say LIES AND SLANDER.

-This is one of the *only* dojutsu clans in canon, and the *only* one who canonically go permanently blind from overuse of their ability. Hinata in canon only went blind for a few days from eye strain, but with Uchiha the only time we see vision loss mentioned it’s *permanent* unless they get an eye transplant. Now blindness is only mentioned in canon specifically in relation to specific op abilities (Izanagi and Izanami) and the mangekyo sharingan, but the fact that blindness is *baked in* to the most powerful sharingan evolution and abilities indicates that eye strain is a very common problem for Uchiha, and it’s not unreasonable to assume that Uchiha who grow old are at high risk of eventually just. Going blind. It’s not from the mangekyo, it’s not even really from sharingan overuse. It’s because the sharingan is hyper evolved for perfect vision and so as an Uchiha gets older and their body naturally starts to degrade one of the things that tends to break down is the chakra pathways that allow the sharingan to work, and once those are gone, the brain probably just- stops being able to process the data the eye is transmitting. Because Finicky Brain Things.

-Not saying that every Uchiha goes blind if they go old, but I’m just sitting here thinking that it’s probably a very common problem. It’s the Uchiha version of going bald when you get old. It’s *natural*.

-On top of that, something that would definitely have cropped up more often in the Warring States and pre-Warring States eras would be Uchiha being *born* blind. Again, that kind of evolution that enables the sharingan is *finicky*, especially when it’s being developed. So stuff like really bad sickness during pregnancy, premature birth, or even injury from the mother being attacked (or being on the battlefield before she knew she was pregnant) could all contribute to an Uchiha child being born straight up blind, or at least super near-sighted.

-Once Konoha was founded and things were just- in general safer/more stable for Uchiha mothers as well as the advancements in medicine, this risk would have gone wayyy down, but it would still be like. A Known Thing. There would be clan superstitions about ways to help prevent the baby from being born blind.

-Anyway what I’m getting at is blindness is a known thing in daily life of an Uchiha and *they would account for that*. While I can see there being old clan laws about blindness affecting inheritability of like- high ranking positions in the clan (since they are a shinobi clan and thus high ranking positions are directly tied to shinobi capability), overall the Uchiha would probably be the *least* ableist about blindness in their members? I can easily see them being the ones to have rigidly organized streets to make for easier navigation, a specific pattern of houses and streets so that you can find your way to and from a place by sheer memorization. Houses all probably have a similar layout of rooms, if not furniture, to again assist in any navigation problems.

-For heavens sake the three *known* Uchiha-related contracts are Crows, Hawks, and *House Cats* (Hawks are in canon only related to Sasuke, but since we never have any canon explanation on where he got them- *points at the old Uchiha fortresses scattered around Land of Fire*. And as for the cats, they’re the same thing, we see ninja cats in Neko-baa’s place and she is specifically an *Uchiha* weapon/supply provider). None of those are strictly combat summons unless you have the chops to summon a cat the size of a house or something but do you know what all three of those are really good at? *Navigation*. The two bird species both have very good vision, and cats have excellent night vision on top of just being generally really good at finding their way around. Plus, all three are feasibly small enough to be near or on a person at all times.

-These people literally have three very good to perfect contracts for *seeing eye animals*, and I know Kishi in no way intended that since Kishi world builds in the same way a goldfish contemplates philosophy, but these tools and ideas are there and I’m gonna use them to make something interesting and coherent doggonit.

[smallestapplin]

Hear me out hear me out-

@onestepbackwards (my sweet darling beloved) and I talked about this a long while ago, but forgot to say anything. And I’m hyper fixating again. (There is also another loz au we were gushing about, but that’s for the next ask-)

Twilight princess au, with submas taking the place of Midna.

(Sfw for rn. But speaks of injuries.)

-

-

The two cursed and banished princes, finding you in wolf form chained and jailed.

Emmet is the one who sasses you, the Twili prince only focusing on getting his and his brother’s true forms back.

Ingo is firm and distance, they need your help, so he isn’t as sassy as Emmet, but he is strict and having a full schedule and plan on what you need to help them do.

Ingo doesn’t want to form a friendship, only a partnership (at first-)

Emmet doesn’t much care, his distaste for those in the light is much more evident.

Emmet is the one who shifts into your friends, whom at the time you thought were dead. And was surprised at how viciously you snapped at him, body jolting like you were holding yourself back.

Ingo just sighs and calls Emmet rude, as that was unnecessary. Though the two won’t say it, seeing you get so angry, especially at them was unnerving.

They quickly become your companions.

While they do most of the talking, mainly Ingo, their banter is always funny, until they drag you into it and asking you who’s right.

“Growl once for me, and twice for me!”

“Emmet that’s not how this works!”

Once you got your human form back, they slowly started warming up to you, talking to you more as this time you could actually respond.

Like in twilight princess, only you can see them when in your human form. They stay hidden in your shadow, helping you along the way.

Emmet shadow hops to learn more information, and the town gossip.

Reporting back with whatever he can find.

They slowly want up you, while being wary of everyone else, aside from the princess.

Until Zant attacks, which you and Zelda take great care to ensure their safety.

Emmet does a complete 180. He becomes so affectionate and clingy to you, always tugging at your tunic and staying close to you.

Ingo becomes much softer, thanking you over and over, then at random times for your kindness. He talks to you, specifically you, a lot more and a lot longer, both of you having full conversations about the dungeon or people.

Or even just about what you like to do, or his world.

Emmet sulks when Ingo has most of your attention.

The closer you three get to completing the mirror of twilight, the more they hesitate, the more they start trying to delay it.

They want to save their people and the twilight realm, but they will also miss you.

It’s then the two Twili realize they have fallen so deeply for you, your strength, your kindness, your selflessness, everything about you is perfect to them.

You slowly become aware of how protective the two have gotten, Emmet tears up while Ingo weeps anytime you get hurt.

They give you your healing potions or fairies during battles, or if you’re hurt, panicking and fretting over you.

They don’t confess to you, they never planned on it, thoroughly believing they would take it as a secret to their graves.

Until the final fight with Zant.

He wasn’t strong, but what he lacked in strength he made up for in speed at the end, keeping you on your toes.

You ended up with many cuts around your arms and back, from his spinning attacks.

All you did was simply kneel, panting, trying to catch your breath before getting to your potion.

Only for the two to pop out from the shadows, crying loudly. The two hold you so tenderly, shushing you quietly as you groan.

Your body shaking, only making them cry harder as they try to give you a potion. But they are just as shaky as you, nearly dropping it.

The spike in their anxiety had them blurting it out.

“We love you, please don’t die!”

“W-we can’t- we need you! Please!”

Emmet managed to get the bottle to your lips, which you greedily gulp down its contents. While the princes cry into your chest, holding you tightly as if you’d vanish.

But oh are they embarrassed afterwards.

More so when you laugh as hell then you feel the same.

[wisteriasymphony]

I Can't Be Your Boyfriend And Your Therapist.. But I'm Sure as Hell Going to Try!

(The Adrinette Yes/No Hands Thing but with Claudrien and I make it better and perhaps even cute)

Adrien tugged on the collar of his sage green sweater-vest as he mulled over how to properly introduce the exercise. His girlfriend, in all fairness, had commented once before on how his usual sense of style made him look like a psychologist, and whether she knew it or not he was probably going to live up to that notion quite soon.

"So, I know we had a fight very recently," is how he started it off. Probably not a particularly brilliant choice, but it set the foundation as he needed it to.

"Yes." Claudia knit her eyebrows together as if she was wondering just how stupid Adrien was. "We did."

"And-! Because that fight was, erm..." He gestured with his hands for a moment as if trying to pull in the latter half of his sentence with a length of twine. "...Borne of- er, brought about- by a miscommunication in our respective wants, I thought we should find a way to alternatively communicate that bypasses your usual hangups of not wanting to tell me things!"

As always, as Adrien got more anxious, the more he peppered in hyper-specific and fancy words into his speech. It clearly didn't help his case for clear communication much, now did it? Claudia had to take a moment to parse what he meant, but she was usually better at the 'listening' shtick than she was at the 'speaking'. That was in part what brought them together so quickly, he supposed. His desire to be heard and her tendency to listen.

"Okay," she finally agreed, a touch of reluctance in her voice. "And what is this 'alternative communication'?"

"Well," he said, chewing on his lip, "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to raise your left hand if your answer is 'yes' and your right hand if your answer is 'no'. Like this." And Adrien raised his left and his right hands one after the other.

Claudia, sitting directly in front of him, mirrored his movements exactly.

"Uhm-- Your left hand."

She raised her right. "I mean, from your perspective, this is my left, so I was going off that," she said. "This is left to you, right?"

"Right— Er, wrong- I mean—" Adrien paused for a moment just to tussle with his own perception of which hand was which, making an "L" with his left hand for good measure to confirm it was what it said it was. "My left and right doesn't matter, it's yours that does."

"But then you might think I'm saying the opposite of what I am if you mix them up."

"I'm not going to do that!"

"Adrien, I fucking saw you mix them up a few seconds ago," Claudia sighed. "Let's just go with your left and right, and I'll do the math in my head to reverse it."

Adrien felt it necessary to capitulate—Jung, Maslow or Spielrein he clearly was not. Not just because those were all psychologists and what he was doing here was closer to leading his girlfriend through a therapy session (...Better than leading a patient into his bed, he supposed).

"Alright." Adrien took a deep breath, before taking out a piece of paper with all of his questions for her written on it. "Question One: Do you feel trapped in this relationship?"

Claudia paused. Raised one hand halfway, then raised the other. Then both were raised at about shoulder height, and then she dropped them both entirely.

"See? This is another issue with this whole yes-no thing. It's more than that."

"Well then tell me. Why is it 'more than that'?"

Claudia seemed to hold her breath, letting her words dissolve in her mouth like a bitter pill rather than saying them out loud.

"No, I'll play your little game," she muttered, raising both hands and averting her eyes from his. "Ask me if I feel like you are trapping me in this relationship."

He didn't have that as a question, actually. He thought that was what 'Question One' meant.

"Okay.. Do you feel like I'm trapping you in this relationship?"

Again, both hands were raised, but it was at a skew: If the height was a factor, it seemed like her answer was 75% "No" and 25% "Yes". Still, her eyes were turned away.

"Do you feel like I'm intentionally trapping you?"

100% "No". Adrien thought about it for a moment, and what he got was probably a clearer picture than if he'd just stuck to the original first question outright. She did feel trapped or obligated in some way, but it was slight and she didn't think he was doing it on purpose. She probably didn't even see his proposal as anything malicious moreso than as something impulsive. Claudia probably understood—and he did too, to be fair—that when he had proposed to her, Adrien had been blinded by his own hopes for the future that he sort of disregarded what would have to happen to get there. What Claudia would have to potentially change about herself to make that work.

"Do you feel like you're trapping yourself in this relationship?"

100% "Yes". ...That was interesting.

"How?" Adrien set the paper down on the floor entirely. "Is there something else to it, or—"

Claudia had closed her eyes entirely. "That's not a 'yes' or 'no' question," was all she said.

"...Do you think you're trapping me?"

200% "Yes". She even used her other arm to support it, stretch it up further. Adrien just nodded, and continued to think of similar sentiments or questions to try and get to the bottom of it that way.

"You think you're trapping both of us in this."

Still a "Yes".

"...And you think you're doing it.. more intentionally than I am?"

Even more of a "Yes".

"Are you worried that I'm unhappy in this and I don't know it?"

"I can't raise my hand any higher than this," she joked. "Hell, Do you want me to stand up? Jump?"

"No, we can stay seated," he said. "...Here, my turn. Ask me if I'm worried that I'm unhappy in this."

Claudia finally opened her eyes, and Adrien noticed they were initially shut to hide how watery they were. She looked to his crossed legs, then to his shoulders, and then right as the top of his head—the closest she could probably manage to eye contact at that point.

"Are you?"

He raised his left—her right.

"No," he said, keeping his hand raised. "Not at all. I feel like if I was unhappy and didn't know it, it would at least be something eating away at me or whispering in the back of my mind, but it's not. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Claudia nodded.

"And- If we really need to look at it in this way— I enjoy myself more when I'm with you. Quite literally—I think I'm a better person because of you. It's been really nice to have someone to open up to like this," he confessed. "—And I know I'm hiding things, just like you are, but I hope we can work through that together. I really do have just as many issues as you do, Claudia. You're not any more of a burden to me than I am to you."

"It's not really a 'burden'," Claudia sighed. "I feel like I'm trapping myself in this because I want to take care of you so badly. It's kind of ruining my life, and it'd be better to let it go... but I still want to because I love you."

"Exactly," Adrien said. "So why can't the same be true for me?"

[ghooostbaby]

The whole first kiss of hualian’s is like an absurd fantasy-setting comedy of manners, where xie lian realizes that this random person who splashed down out of nowhere to where he was hiding underwater from a resentful fetus spirit and started kissing him is actually that new acquaintance he really admires and has been really hoping they’ll keep spending time together, so wouldn’t it be rude to stab them? would he want to have lunch again?

Once you start to pay attention to Xie Lian’s inner dialogue in book 3 you see how absolutely preoccupied he is with rules... figuring out the unspoken rules that everyone else seems to know and he doesn’t, and then stressing out about how to follow them, and then feeling embarrassed and berating himself for not following them because they go against his conscience or instincts.

The huge distance between the inner narration of this weary, cautious scrap god of Book 3 and Book 2′s naively self-assured crown prince communicates so much without saying anything. His actions and choices on either side of the 800 years aren’t really any different, he always had bold, different ideas, and followed them despite how much the people around him tried to persuade him to proceed by the expected protocol. But after 800 years, even though he still can’t help doing what feels right to him, he’s always second guessing himself and agonizing internally if this or that was impolite or against some social norm.

I remember that in Xie Lian’s early years as a god, the book described how unlike the other gods Xie Lian was acting - he almost never hung around heavens, or participated in the bureaucratic activities, and spent most of his time patrolling the mortal world, but Xie Lian just ignored those expectations, and was confident his approach was the right one despite the protocol. When he returns to the heavens 800 years later, it’s like all of that iconoclasm (so funny to use this word for god) or freethinking was because he was just doing what felt normal to him. It’s so clear how hard he is trying to be polite, following the social norms, but he just doesn’t do it very well. He tries so hard to participate in the communication array like everyone else only to be told he’s kind of acting embarrassing and can he please stop. He seems hyper-aware that any thing he might do that feels normal could come off as anti-social and is obsessively analyzing everything he says or does for whether it transgresses any rules of politeness. He still does mostly the same things as he would have done, but he’s generally very hard on himself for it, constantly watching himself from the outside and fretfully examining all his behaviour, and trying to correct himself and force himself to consciously follow the social standards. (relateable!!!! neurodivergence!!!! masking!!! ahhhh!!!!)

The fall of Xian Le for Xie Lian was this conflict between having to obey the rules of the universe and doing what he thought was right. Over the years, I think his willingness to sacrifice his body is how he managed to abide by the rules of the universe, heaven, etc while doing the work of helping others. (”Give another cup”, if there’s not another cup to give, give your own.) It’s more uncomfortable, actually, for him to rely on others than to sacrifice himself. Because even though he’s trying to fit in with others, he really doesn’t trust them. Maybe, specifically because he had to go against what feels right and natural to be accepted, he doesn’t trust them.

There is a tension that comes up often between Hua Cheng wanting to protect Xie Lian and help him to do what he wants and cares about, and Xie Lian choosing to get hurt to be able to do what he wants and cares about. Why Hua Cheng showed up and started kissing Xie Lian is not really explained as far as I can tell, but he seems miserable about it when they get to the shore, and it really doesn't fit with his MO to just suddenly go grab Xie Lian and kiss him, especially not the first time! It seems like it had to be for some non-romantic reason. Was this the best thing he could think of to keep Xie Lian’s mouth occupied so he couldn’t swallow any ghosts or swords? (He only passes Xie Lian air after they've been kissing for a while, after Xie Lian realizes who it is and is so shocked he opens his mouth and loses his air, so I don't think that's the reason Hua Cheng initiated it.)

Hua Cheng is insistent on not allowing Xie Lian to be hurt, but Xie Lian constantly comes across this problem where the only way to help others is strategically using his tolerance to pain, and, well, death. Xie Lian is willing to endure pain and hunger to help anyone, or even just prevent them from feeling discomfort or feeling slighted, but he’s not willing to rely on anyone. He doesn’t really trust anyone to be able to handle his vulnerability. No one else has been able to handle his vulnerability.

When they’re on the beach after the kissing is over and the fetus spirit has been dealt with, the more Hua Cheng tries to be aplogetic or helpful, the more Xie Lian gets distressed and tries to hide that he’s uncomfortable at all, or even bleeding from a needle lodged in his foot. The discomfort of the kiss and after has meaning for Xie Lian’s narrative/character development. When Hua Cheng carries Xie Lian to paradise mansion and kneels before him to pull the needle out of his foot, seeing him go down to the floor like that makes Xie Lian feels uncomfortable. Even when Hua Cheng offers to prepare a feast for him, he seems to awkwardly wave that away to go for a walk to buy some food together. It seems like he’s afraid of asking too much of Hua Cheng, or getting supported by him. In his internal narration, Xie Lian keeps worrying to himself about being perceived impolite, not adhering to social rules, as if what Hua Cheng is offering is a secret trap, and he’ll embarrass himself or end up pushing Hua Cheng away.

After removing the needle from his foot and finding a place to eat, Xie Lian doesn’t get any relief from being further embarrassed at all, and even gets teased by Hua Cheng about impotency! Xie Lian tries to run away again, but he ends up allowing Hua Cheng following behind to catch up, and let’s himself express some of his embarrassment, whining “San Laaang”, which Hua Cheng responds to teasingly. I think this is a very underrated sweet, trust-building moment. Up until now Xie Lian has been constantly worried of doing things wrong and seeming impolite and trying to cover up all his blunders but after this, as he narrates the interactions with Hua Cheng, his internal self-examinations seem to tend more and more to a slightly less panicked thought process of “oh no, I shouldn’t have done that, but since it’s San Lang, it’s probably fine.” Hua Cheng not flinching at playfully embarrassing him (I mean he didn’t BRING UP the impotency but he teased Xie Lian for it), he shows Xie Lian it’s not a big deal and that he’s accepted with him regardless. (Unlike, say, Feng Xin and Mu Qing, who fly off the handle at every small thing he does that diverges from norms of social etiquette.)

When Xie Lian suddenly asks about Qiandeng temple, he thinks to himself it would be uncomfortable if Hua Cheng made it specifically for him - again worrying of asking too much, so luckily Hua Cheng lies through his teeth (who’s afraid of being embarrassed?) that it was just a temple he had lying around, and Xie Lian was relieved it was a more or less casual gesture. Hua Cheng is also immediately apologetic about the temple, and says he’s embarrassed about having to admit that the beautiful, peaceful temple he made for Xie Lian is built in the midst of the chaos of Ghost City. Xie Lian initially ponders about the socially proper response to give, and decides he should compliment the temple to make Hua Cheng feel better about it. Which he also seems to take to doing very naturally. It feels like his nervousness about being socially appropriate is easing. It’s just ... so sweet. Every moment that comes up where he could say the wrong thing, he labours over what to do, and then takes a little leap, and Hua Cheng never reacts critically, and so each new occasion that comes up it becomes easier and easier, Xie Lian’s inner monologue feels less and less tense.

When they’re in the temple Hua Cheng humbles himself again, showing something he isn’t good at (calligraphy) and asking for Xie Lian’s help. Xie Lian even recognizes that Hua Cheng’s handwriting is actually very embarrassing and has to fight not to laugh, but it’s not really a big deal either. (!!) Xie Lian is pretty self-effacing about his calligraphy after not practicing for so many years - but eventually he accepts Hua Cheng’s request to teach him. Once he starts teaching Hua Cheng, the constant anxious back and forth of his inner monologue seems to completely fade away, and he’s just focused on the moment, feeling his competency and also his enthusiasm to take charge and teach someone something. One of the first things he does is put his hand over Hua Cheng’s to guide it. He pauses for a moment to worry about how inappropriate it was, but thinks to himself, it’s San Lang, so it’s probably fine, and just goes ahead with it and they have such a good time (T.T). Even when Xie Lian can tell Hua Cheng is purposefully moving his hand chaotically the more Xie Lian tries to firmly guide it (brat!), and he assumes Hua Cheng might be teasing him, he also doesn’t worry about it too much. This is San Lang after all. You can see how Hua Cheng has put his anxieties about following social rules at ease, and made Xie Lian feel like here is someone he can genuinely trust (bless them!).

As Xie Lian takes on a dominant role  in the calligraphy lesson, and Hua Cheng in tandem makes himself more teasingly submissive, Xie Lian feels more grounded and at ease with himself. It’s what feels good to him, but went so wrong in his past, and Hua Cheng is helping him connect with that again (by being the best brat he can be).

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil has always had nightmares and night terrors for as long as he can remember; however, when he met you, those began to subside more and more. Over the years, he had begun to forget what it was like to wake up in a cold sweat and terrified; that is until a few months ago. Once more, his mind has been plagued by these agonizingly real dreams.

BEGINNING NOTES: HAH! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WRITING SAD FLUFF WITH VERGIL; WELL THINK AGAIN (He really is my comfort character--I swear). There are 12,886 words in this… This beats my last one so now this is the longest chapter I’ve written--It’s like 23 pages in google docs lmao. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ ▪️I couldn’t find an exact answer to this so I will put this here: a grin refers to the lil’ smirky smile Vergil gives Dante in DMC5 while a smile is closer to like showing your teeth. I hope that helps clear things up a bit lmao ▫️I use an in-game combo term (DMC 5)--just a head’s up. ▪️When I reference triggering unless I say specifically “Sin Trigger” I am referring to Vergil’s regular trigger (the pre-DMC 5 form; however, I use the concept art for DMC5 as my visual reference… I know that’s kinda complicated. Just look at his fandom page and then the gallery; you’ll see the concept art for DMC5.) ▫️I’ve never personally had a concussion before so I did some online research; forgive me if it is a bad representation of having 🛡️⚔️🛡️ 💠Vergil x Male reader; I tried to write G/N but it got confusing, sorry. 🔹Pre-established relationship--married and living together. 💠Fluff… well more angst; I got kind of carried away. 🔹Minor accusations of physical abuse; THE KEYWORD IS ACCUSATIONS. (trigger warning) 💠Minor blood warning; from both of you. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ READER RELATED 🔹The reader uses: Beowulf and Revenant 🔹Reader is overly chill about things; I am a rather passive person so it ended up being that way with this story, sorry. 🔹It is mentioned that you are younger than Vergil--and closer to Nero’s age. 🔹Reader does throw up; only mentioned it isn’t like graphic or anything--still figured I should warn just in case. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ VERGIL RELATED 💠Vergil has PTSD-related nightmares/actions. 💠Self-harm? Vergil skins himself accidentally; so I am not sure if that is self-harm per se. Plus it’s only in one part so it’s not that big of a talking point. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Slight spoiler, don't read if you don't want to have things spoiled: To add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again.

==

INSPIRED BY: And when thy heart ceased to beat--By: Craig 

Please give this a read. It is what originally inspired me to write this, plus it is just a really good story and takes a pretty realistic look at what Vergil’s life could/would be like after everything that’s happened. 

==

     A cold wind swept through the arena as all movement stilled. 

     At the edges were the two remaining contenders; circling one another. One, a male human equipped with Beowulf, was out of breath and exhausted: the other, the olive-armored Nelo Angelo, had barely warmed up and diligently awaited the human's next move.

     Seeing how the man defeated the slew of lesser demons that Nelo had sent prior, he decided to take things into his own hands. The devilish swordsman was confident that he’d win this fight; even if this particular human has been more of a challenge than anticipated--as the pair has been going at it for nearly an hour now. 

     With gritted teeth, the man sprinted at Nelo, cracking the ground in their wake. He was going to try and grapple with the large knight. Right before he was able, Nelo swung his greatsword. The silver blade was suddenly halted as it hit the Beowulf gauntlets. Even though the man was unharmed, the momentum of the attack was enough to fling the human far across the field. 

     Using the claws of the gauntlets, the man shredded the arena’s floor and stopped himself. Nelo turned to face him and waited for the incompetent warrior to stand back up. Noticing that the knight stood still, the man began to grow frustrated; knowing that the devil was taunting him to try again. 

     With a pounding heart and exhaustion only worsening, the man stood up with a grunt. He rolled his shoulders, cracking them loudly, and took a deep breath. Once more he sprinted at Nelo. When the man was close enough, he decided to jump off one of the nearby walls. Springing himself above the Black Knight and performed Starfall. 

     Nelo dodged but wasn't quite fast enough and was nicked along one side; which only further irritated the Black Knight. The second the man's feet landed, Nelo kicked the underside of their knees--bringing them to a kneel.

     Not wasting any time, Nelo raised his sword to strike, only to be blocked once more by the Beowulf gauntlets. The pair locked in a bind; Nelo’s sword heavily pushing downwards onto the forearms of Beowulf, which were painfully held above the man’s head.

     No matter what way you put it, a devil's strength is insurmountable to a human’s, even if the human is wearing the armor of a former devil. Nelo knew this and drove his weapon harder into the demonic protection as it began to falter.

     Knowing it was only a matter of time before the gauntlets shattered, the man moved into a position where he could dig his feet into the ground. This allowed him to stand ever so slightly. Not having any better ideas, he used this small amount of space and attempted to jump. This, in turn, used the demonic energy of the boots to push the gauntlets up harder into the greatsword; allowing the man to stand up further. Without wasting any time, he jumped once more and noticed small cracks that began to spider on their forearm guards. However, he had enough room to break away from Nelo; making the knight slam his blade into the ground. 

     The man grumbled as they looked down at his gauntlets, seeing that they would shatter if hit by the sword again. 

     Nelo pulled his sword back up and huffed. Now it was his turn.

     Nelo sprinted at his opponent and lunged with the broadsword; catching the man off guard; as he only barely dodged the sharp edge, rolling into a stand. Before the man had a moment to think, Nelo attacked once more. A large sweeping motion from the broadsword hit the gauntlets and blue sparks flew off the sword from the impact; sending the human flying into a wall of the arena. 

     Standing back on his feet, the man looked at his forearms; Beowulf had fractured all the way through. Seeing Nelo begin to move in again, he quickly shed the broken armor and dodged. Using Beowulf’s boots, he jumped onto Nelo’s shoulders and used him as a surface to bounce off. 

     The devil turned to face the man and heard him say something unintelligible; and yet, something so familiar. Nelo ignored it with a small dismissive shake of his head and continued the fight. Once more he moved to attack. The man attempted to dodge in the same way again, not knowing what else to do. However, Nelo wasn’t created yesterday. He was quick enough to grab the man's leg in a flash. 

     Nelo used the human’s limb as a handle to swing the attached body into the ground. The floor cracked from the extreme force as the man's flesh made contact; followed by an ear-piercing scream and the sound of an unimaginable amount of breaking bones. 

     A strange feeling ghosted at the recesses of Nelo’s mind, a feeling of terror--a deep underlying urge to stop what he was doing. However, the knight had to finish what he started. The demonic swordsman grabbed the man by his neck; making him scream once more. 

     Despite their wounds, the human still attempted to fight. He grasped at Nelo’s face and horns, pulling on them; all the while, the man was saying something Nelo was still unable to understand. 

     It didn’t matter, the struggle was pointless.

     Like a hot knife through butter, Nelo plunged his broadsword through the man’s torso. Nelo felt the human’s body go limp and their hands released the tight grasp on his face. The dead man’s blood trickled down the silver blade and onto Nelo Angelo’s olive-armored fingers. Before the knight could enjoy his victory, he decided to get a better look at his opponent. 

     A loud clatter emanated from his sword as he dropped it and the fresh corpse. The Black Knight’s hands shook as he looked at the blood that was dripping from them, horrified at what he’d done.

     Vergil shot upwards with a loud terrified scream. 

     He frantically turned his head around to get his bearings. He was sitting at home, in bed, with you. Vergil’s heart was racing and his skin was clammy. With short panicked breaths, Vergil gripped his face tightly, unknowingly tearing at his skin with his claws, as he replayed everything in his mind. 

     “Vergil? Is everything alright?” a confused and very concerned voice called from the space beside him.

     The blue devil nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing you speak. You sat upwards upon noticing his terrified state.

     “Hey,” you whispered and gently touched his bicep, making him flinch.

     Vergil turned his head to you and just stared. You noticed that his arms were partially triggered, his eyes were glowing dully, and there were small pin-prick-sized bleeding marks caused by his claws on his face. His stare was blank with his brow ever-so-slightly creased. He looked afraid… almost as if he were lost.  

     “Another nightmare?” you softly kneaded against his arm, hoping to bring him back from whatever terrified thoughts he was in, “It’s okay, Vergil. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” 

     His stare moved down to your chest and he slowly reached outwards. Confused, you let go of his arm--allowing him to fully pivot to see you. Barely-there scaled charcoal-black fingers ghost down your midline. You noticed a slight tremble in his lips and his stare had softened a bit.

     Slowly you grabbed his arm, making sure he could see what you were doing (and to be cautious of his forearm’s blades), “I’m right here, Vergil. You’re safe and at home. Everything’s okay.”

     He opened his mouth but no words came out, just a weak crack of his voice. The both of you just sat for a few minutes; his palm resting firmly over your stomach while you rubbed his forearm. You continued to try and ground him back in reality with your words, hoping to keep things from escalating. 

     When Vergil’s trigger began to subside, he cleared his throat and spoke in a barely audible voice, “I didn’t…” his voice trailed off once more.

     “It’s okay Vergil,” you noticed his expression had shifted and he seemed to be more present, “You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re alright.”

     Vergil nodded slowly, his free hand moved to yours that you had on his forearm. You let go of him and watched as he removed his palm from your skin. He placed your hand in between both of his. With trembling fingers, Vergil ran his digits over your hand and arm while staring down at the interaction. 

     Another few minutes passed, Vergil’s trigger had fully subsided and a few stray tears fell from his eyes. It pained you to see him like this; to see him so scared and not know how to help him. A small pang of hurt tugged at your heart; you had a feeling that whatever the nightmare was, it involved you as (you presumed) most have. However, tonight was different; Vergil didn’t attack you.

     Over the past few months, Vergil’s nightmares and terrors had been getting steadily worse. Just two weeks ago he woke you up by almost dislocating your shoulder. A week ago? Vergil triggered in his sleep and gouged the crap out of your back--enough that you had to get new bedding because of bloodstains.

     Tonight, you finally managed to get him to sleep for the first time in a week and he had another agonizing nightmare. It was also the first time he had tried to speak to you afterwards; rather than sit in silence. 

     A stuttering breath caught your attention. You looked into Vergil’s eyes as he spoke, his voice still laced with a terror you’d never heard from him before, “I couldn’t… You...” the blue devil’s jaw quivered, not being able to bring himself to finish his thought.

     “You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” you moved to get closer to him, “I promise.”

     He pulled you into his lap and buried his face into your neck and continued to mumble, “I’m sorry,” over and over as he shook against you.

     You gently wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, “It’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry.”

     The two of you remained this way until you both fell asleep. Vergil, thankfully, did not have another nightmare; however, his sleep was far from restful.

==

     A ringing phone woke you from your sleep and you moved to grab it, only to be stopped by a strong set of arms. Vergil had wrapped himself entirely around you--legs and all.

     “Vergil,” you whispered, “I need to get up.”

     He grumbled in response and loosened his grip just enough for you to slip out of bed. You grabbed your phone and went to the bathroom. While in there, you saw that Dante had tried to call you and text you:

     “You coming in today?”

     “Hello?”

     “I am going to keep spamming you till you respond,” and that he did. 

     It looked like Dante had been doing this for the past 30 minutes. 

     After you finished up in the bathroom, you called Dante.

     It rang once before the red devil picked up, “Mornin’ beautiful.”

     You rolled your eyes as you made your way back to the bedroom, “Do not call me that; Vergil will kill you.”

     “Be one hell of a way to die--make sure to put it on my grave, yeah?”

     The both of you laughed, “So, what’s up? The shop finally burn down or something?”

     “Honestly… I don’t think the fires of Hell could burn this place down…” you could hear Dante’s chair creak as he leaned forwards, “You both forgot about that job this morning, huh?”

     Your face went pale, “What--”

     The younger twin laughed, “Verge and you had a contract for today. It’s nearly noon and you both are still at home?”

     “Son of a bitch!” you yelled, forgetting that Vergil was still sleeping, “We’ll be right there.”

     “See you soon,” you could practically hear Dante reveling in the fact Vergil messed up.

     “Mhm, yep,” with that, you hung up the phone.

     “Dante?” Vergil grumbled from the bed, making you jump slightly.

     The bed creaked as you sat on it, swinging one leg on it, “Yeah… We are late to work…”

     Vergil moved to set his head on your lap and sighed, “I will undoubtedly never hear the end of this mistake.”

     “Mhm,” you gently ran your fingers through his naturally down hair, “knowing Dante.”

     “Brillant,” Vergil looked up at you and had a strange pained look.

     “Something on your mind?” 

     His lips parted slightly as he took a hand and reached up to your face, not saying anything.

     You kissed his palm, “I’m right here, Vergil.”

     He closed his eyes and nodded with a sputtering exhale. This had also become a regular occurrence in the last few months; even before the terrors began. You had noticed that Vergil would often stare at you with this sad and distant look on his face. One night, he finally acknowledged that he did so and admitted why; that he was afraid you aren't real.

     After a few moments, Vergil removed his hand and sat upright. An air of remorse emanated from the twin as he whispered, “I did not harm you last night, did I?”

     You shook your head, “No,” you set a hand on his bicep, “You did talk to me a bit, though.”

     His brow furrowed as he tried to remember and looked over his shoulder at you.

     “You kept… apologizing, telling me that you didn’t know..? I won’t pry, but…” you locked eyes with the blue devil, “I am here if you ever want or need to talk about it, okay?”

     He turned to you, “Thank you for your offer… But I assure you that I am fine.”

     “Vergil,” you placed a hand on his and spoke softly, “You don’t have to be fine all the time; it’s okay to be upset, to have problems.”

     A weak grin was all he gave you in return, squeezing your hand tightly. 

     The eldest twin knew exactly what had set off this spiral of increasingly terrified thoughts; however, he was ashamed to admit it, even to you. 

==

     It had been a job just like any other; clear out demons here and destroy a nest there--a piece of cake really. However, the weather was far from amiable; being overcast and heavily raining.

     “Fuck me!” you growled as you violently yanked the Beowulf boot from the mud. 

    The demonic hardware is rather heavy, at least for your human legs, so it is not ideal for muddy rainy weather--often getting stuck. Vergil noticed your grumbling and scrunched-up expression from the corner of his eye as he stifled a laugh. 

     “Don’t even--” you insincerely growled at him, “I swear I will throw them at you.”

     Vergil smirked slightly and huffed a laugh through his nose, “Perhaps you’d prefer me to leave you here?”

     Playfully you shoved his shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare.”

     His eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't?"

     You raised a brow, "You'll sleep on the couch for a week if you do, mister,” your voice was heavily layered with sarcasm and playfulness.

     Without responding, Vergil grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you over one of his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

     “Hey--!” you squirmed in his grasp.

     “Stop struggling,” his grip tightened as his fingers dug into your skin, “Or I will drop you.”

     With a shake of your head and a smile, you laughed, “What a romantic husband I have.”

     “Tch,” Vergil was scowling, but you knew it was disingenuous.

     The two of you walked like this for some time, enjoying the comfortable silence (which if you listened very closely, you could hear Vergil purring). A part of you had almost forgotten that the both of you were on a job; that is until Vergil yanked you from his shoulder and plopped you on your feet. 

     He placed a stiff hand on your shoulder, “Stay,” with that, Vergil dashed off behind you. 

     Confused, you turned around and watched Vergil zip around a group of miscellaneous demons. You lovingly wolf-whistled at the silver-haired hunter. 

     Similar to a peacock showing its feathers, Vergil did these solo fights to show off--to flirt with you. You knew that this was the case because he would always finish the fight with a fancy move; be it an over-the-top judgment cut or using his doppelgänger in a combo. Today he opted for the second type.

     You smirked widely as you watched Vergil return the Yamato to its scabbard and dismiss Doppel.

     Lovingly, you cooed at the devilish swordsman, “I love watching you work, you know that?”

     His face was emotionless, holding intense eye contact with you. His lips were slightly parted as he seemingly tried to come up with a response. 

     Under your breath, you laughed quietly and approached him, “my Dark Slayer,” you winked and gave him a large grin. 

     He closed his lips and looked down with a tiny smirk, a trace amount of bashfulness ghosted his features. As you got within reach of him, a loud noise made both of you snap to attention. The two of you moved closer together, back to back; as per typical routine. The source of the noise sprung from the nearby buildings. It was a group of four Scudo Angelos and two Proto Angelos. 

     Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed in irritation. He would always take care of these two types in particular, alone. Right now, however, it is impossible to get you away to a safe distance without a high risk of hurting you. 

     “So, you got a plan?” you calmly asked over your shoulder to Vergil.

     With a small click of his tongue, Vergil spoke, “You take care of the Scudos; I will take the Protos.”

     “Sounds good,” you nodded and the two of you broke apart. 

     Using Beowulf, you made quick work of the smaller demons’ shields. The talon heels of the boots are always a great tool for crushing the demons’ thick skulls. It didn’t take long for you to have them all but bloodied remains beneath your heels. You turned to address Vergil, figuring that he had finished his fight alongside you; however, he was still in combat. 

     You raised a brow as you watched him take on both of the knights. Confusion pricked at the edges of your mind, it was unusual for Vergil to take longer than you. The closer you watched the more off he seemed; his movements were overly stiff and his technique was sloppy. Deciding to help him, you moved in on one of the Proto Angelos. It didn’t take long for the demon to notice you. It charged at you and, just as it swung its broadsword, you parried the attack using your gauntlets. Taking advantage of the small gap of time that it took for the demon to pull its blade upwards, you hit it square in the chest. 

     The Proto Angelo stumbled back a bit but was relatively unphased by the uncharged punch. Now circling each other, you waited for the demon to attack. Once it did, you jumped upwards and were able to perform Starfall upon the knight. Grinding your taloned heels into the flattened olive-armored demon, you did a fancy flip off of it; deciding to have some fun. Which was a major mistake. 

     You hadn’t noticed that the second Proto Angelo also had its attention on you as it had knocked Vergil into a far-off wall. Hearing movement, you spun around to defend yourself but it was too late. 

     A searing pain shot through you as the demon’s broadsword slashed horizontally along your torso. With a loud shout, your knees buckled a bit as you stumbled backwards. You placed your arm along the slash, feeling it with your fingers--as to not break eye contact with the demon. The wound was bleeding profusely and was much deeper than you anticipated. 

     “Shit,” you grimaced and noticed the first Proto Angelo stand up. Thinking quickly, you sprinted at the second one and jumped off its shoulders. With another loud shout in pain, you landed using a shoulder roll. Your head was spinning as you slowly moved to kneel with your back to the demons. 

     A bright blue flash caught your eye and you felt a gush of wind pass you by. Once you managed to stand, the pair of Proto Angelos had been desolated into nothing but specs of dust in the wind. Where the demons once stood was Vergil in his sin trigger. Instantly, he was in front of you, making you jump a little. 

     With a huff and a weak smile, you jested, “Kinda sad I missed that,” you winced a bit as you felt your gut twitch in pain.

     A large grey-scaled hand gently touched your wound. Despite the heavy distortion of his sinful voice, you could tell he was worried, “You are hurt?”

     You did your best to play it off as you set a hand atop his, “I’ll be fine; it’s just a scratch.”

     He huffed loudly and pulled his hand from your body, looking at his palm that was covered in your blood, “I am sending you home--”

     “What-!” you shook your head, “Vergil, you can’t be-”

     The blue devil snarled lightly, “This is not up for discussion,” he sighed with a shake of his head returning to his human form, “It is not worth the risk to keep you here.”

     With parted lips, you did your best to formulate a sentence despite your anger, “I’m not just going to leave you,” you shifted your jaw to the side, “We’re partners, remember?”

     “As if I could forget,” Vergil’s eyes met yours as he mumbled, “That is why I am doing this.”

==

     ���Vergil?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, “You okay? You’ve been zoned out for a few minutes.”

     “Forgive me,” he removed his hand from yours, “I was lost in thought.”

     You looked at him curiously.

     Vergil shifted to the other edge of the bed, “We should get ready,” with that Vergil left the room.

     You pursed your lips and sighed through your nose as you stood up; admittedly, you had hoped he might indulge you on what he was thinking about. 

     After a few minutes, Vergil returned to the room. You already had the majority of your gear on and were in the middle of tying your boots when the ringing of your cell phone caught your attention.

     Before you could answer it, Vergil snatched it off the bedside table, “What do you want, Dante? "

     Although you couldn’t hear the younger twin, you could tell that he was poking fun at Vergil for being late. 

     “Have you called only to pester? Or is there a reason for this conversation?” Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed through his nose.

     A small smirk tugged at your lips at Vergil’s feigned irritation at his baby brother.

     “I see,” Vergil slowly looked over to you and eyed you up and down, “My partner and I will discuss it and let you know,” he turned his gaze from you, “Goodbye,” he hung up the phone and placed it gently down on the bedside table as it was before. 

     Vergil moved to the closet and grabbed a dress shirt, his jaw moving slowly around as he mindlessly buttoned the black fabric. Your boots hit the floor with a soft thud. Humming a soft tune as you moved to the dresser to grab Revenant off of it, sliding it into the horizontal holster on the small of your back. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Vergil standing behind you. 

     “Oops, shit-- sorry,” you shuffled out of the way.

     “Do not apologize, I am in no rush,” he opened one of the drawers and grabbed a pair of pants and his belt.

     A bright smile adorned your face as you resumed your humming. You grabbed your coat and his off the nearby wall hooks and walked over to him.

     Vergil had moved back to the closet and slid on one of his vests.

     “Allow me?”

     The blue devil turned to you, “I can button my own clothing.”

     “I thought you weren’t in a rush?” you teased gently.

     You handed Vergil his coat to hold and slowly began to button the slate-blue apparel. Out of the top of your vision, you could see that Vergil was staring down at you with a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

     “So what did Dante want?” you reached over to the closet behind him and grabbed one of his ties.

     “He wanted to know if you wished to trade places with him for today.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” you made sure the tie was semi-loose--as he prefers--and tucked it beneath his vest.

     “That he would accompany me on the job and you would work with the women--taking Dante’s place."

     “Well,” you rested your hands on his shoulders and sighed quietly, “I guess that makes the most sense since we are so late today…”

     “Are you sure you are alright with it?” his eyes flicked to your hands then back to you, “I know you prefer to work with me,” he tossed his coat over on the bed and placed his hands on your waist.

     You laughed as you felt him pull you closer, “It’ll be fine, dear,” you leaned your head on his chest, “just promise me you’ll stay safe and keep in touch?”

     “Of course,” his voice was barely over a whisper as he kissed the top of your head, “Same goes for you.”

     “I will,” a grin spread across your face as you leaned back to look at him. Lovingly, Vergil pressed further into you and moved one of his hands to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. The two of you kissed gently. His other hand kneaded into your hips as you moved your hands down the front of his chest, grabbing his vest. 

     Gradually, you two split from the kiss. The blue devil stayed touching your forehead. You shivered slightly feeling his hot breath against your lips, wanting to taste more of him.

     “Perhaps we should save this for later?”

     “Just a little more… please?” you pouted slightly.

     The blue devil chuckled softly, “With a face like that,” he brushed his lips against yours, “how could I say no?”

     The two of you intertwined yourselves once more. He moved both his hands to your sides, slowly and strongly kneading down them. With kisses as sweet as molasses, he made sure to show you how much he relishes in your affections. One of your hands moved to his hair and slowly ran your fingers through slicked back pomaded locks. A small distant purring could be heard as he pulled you even tighter to his body. Vergil’s lips left yours and ran down your jawline and neck.

     “I love you,” you murmured, “so very much…”

     He removed his lips from your skin and looked you in the eyes; his way of expressing the same affection. Despite his silence, you knew he felt the same. 

     A ghost of a smile hinted at Vergil's face as he reluctantly let go of your body, returning to his regular volume, “We should get going; otherwise I may change my mind about saving things for later.”

     Your face turned a slight red at the flat-out way Vergil said that he wanted you. The blue devil had walked over to the bed and slid on his coat. He then grabbed Yamato from its resting place next to the bed and your phone.

     With your phone outstretched in his hand, he raised a brow at your expression, “Ready?”

     You shook the ever-encroaching ideas from your head as you meekly grabbed your phone, “Yeah.”

     “Good,” his hand was still outstretched, “Shall we?”

     A large smile decorated your face as you grabbed his hand, “Lead the way, dear.”

==

     The instant you left Nico’s van after work, you went inside to bathe. It had been another rainy day and you were not only coated in demon blood but also mud--lots of mud. You pulled off Beowulf before entering your shared home and set them on the rubber mat near the door; leaving them to clean later. 

     Slowly, you undressed as you made your way to the bathroom when you heard something odd.

     “--to do,” it was Vergil. You peered through the door of the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from you and was talking to himself, “Perhaps it would be best--” he stopped and turned his head slightly to the right. 

     You bit your lip and knocked gently, “Hey, sorry to intrude… Didn’t know you were home.”

     Vergil pushed up on his knees, standing to turn and face you, “Do not apologize, I wasn’t doing anything important…” he looked worn out.

     The door creaked as you fully opened it and stepped into the room, halfway undressed, “You look tired, babe.”

     The blue devil shook his head, “Dealing with my brother is exhausting.”

     “Well, then after I shower,” you set Revenant down on the dresser, “maybe we should take a nap together?” 

     “I-” Vergil’s expression hardened, “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

     Your lips parted slightly as you looked with a soft crease of your brow, “I know it’s been rough but… you need some sleep, Vergil…”

     He looked as if he were going to say something, but moved his gaze to the floor and nodded in agreement. 

     “You don’t have to wait for me,” you moved back towards the door, “I’ll join you when I get back, okay?”

     The eldest twin nodded as he watched you leave the room.

     He had already removed most of his clothing, only having his pants and his, untucked, dress shirt on. Slowly, Vergil stood and went to get a more casual shirt; removing the rest of his work clothes. 

     Now dressed in a loose-fitting black tank top and navy boxer briefs, he moved back to the bed. Apprehensive didn’t even describe how he felt right now; no, the eldest son of Sparda was petrified over the thought of sleep. However, you were right, he was beyond beat and wanted nothing more than to rest. With a heavy sigh, he climbed into the bed and closed his eyes, praying for just a moment of pleasant sleep.

     You came back into the room about an hour later. With a warm smirk, you tip-toed around the room to avoid waking the sleeping devil. Once you re-dressed yourself, you turned back to look at Vergil when you noticed something was wrong. 

     His face was contorted into a rather violent grimace and, as per the night before, was partially triggered. Vergil was also breathing heavily and growling in his sleep. In his arms, he had taken one of the pillows--and some of the duvet--into a death grip, ripping them.

     Biting your lip in thought you sighed, “Shit…” although you knew that this could only end badly, you decided to wake him up from his nightmare.

     Cautiously, you moved to the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Vergil..?”

     Nothing.

     Your gut twisted with fear as you shook him harder, “Vergil?”

     Still nothing.

     With a heavy sigh, you shook him harder, “Wake up…”

     Instantly, you were pinned to the floor by a set of charcoal-black scaled hands around your throat. You had never been scared of Vergil before but tonight? You were terrified. His face was somewhere between emotionless and furious. A loud rumbling growl emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to squeeze ever-tighter.

     “Verg-” your voice sputtered as you grabbed his arms, gasping for air. 

     Blood had begun to trickle down your palms as you accidentally sliced them on his forearm blades in your panic. Becoming steadily aware of your need for air, you grabbed at his face and neck; anything to get him off of you. 

     Tears sprung from your eyes as you felt his claws pierce the sides of your neck as his grip tightened even further. You knew that if he pressed down his thumbs, Vergil would stab right into your windpipe and kill you. 

     Lightheadedness began to sink in as you croaked out another beseeching plea to your lover, “Vergil--!”

     With nothing left to do, you clawed harder against him and roughly cut into his cheek with your nails. This seemingly pulled him from his delusion as his grip loosened.

     A new look replaced the hardened glare from before, a look of complete and utter horror. 

     Vergil’s voice trembled as he realized what was going on, “What--?”

     You took a loud deep breath and pulled his arms away from you and spoke as best you could with the growing pain in your throat, “Move,” you pushed against his body and did your best to speak normally, “please.”

     Without hesitation, Vergil removed himself completely and stood staring down at you. He looked at his, still-triggered, hands and saw your blood dripping from his claws. The blue devil’s blood ran cold. 

     “Vergil-” you groaned as you sat upwards, watching him bolt out of the room, “Wait-” with a strained grunt, you gradually stood upright and did your best to stabilize your wobbly legs.

     The blue devil slammed the bathroom door close, quickly locking it behind him. His hands had de-triggered and shook violently as he tried to wash the blood from his skin. He had turned the faucet as hot as possible and had begun to inadvertently scorch his skin. While he was brutalizing his own hands, he felt something drip down his jawline and to the tip of his chin. Vergil looked at himself in the fogged-up glass in front of him.

     Upon each side of his face and neck were dark smears of your blood from you pushing him away. Three large scratches decorated one of his cheeks and were slowly bleeding; now dripping off of his chin and to the sink below. Vergil took one of his hands and slowly ghosted over the markings on his face. A deep all-encompassing pit formed in his gut as he replayed the nightmare from just the night prior. The feeling of you desperately tearing at Nelo’s face, trying to escape him.  

     A tremble found its way to Vergil’s lips and body. Pressing as hard as he could, the eldest twin began to desperately scrub his blood-stained face with the sink's boiling water; grimacing from the feeling of peeling the top layers off of his flesh. You were the only person in the world he wouldn’t dare fight, wouldn’t dare harm; yet, only mere moments ago, he had his hands around your neck. A wicked thought echoed in his mind, how it would have only taken just a few more seconds or just a little more pressure for him to have killed the only person he has ever loved. Vergil bared his teeth as he let out a muffled whimper, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

     The knob of the door jiggled, “Vergil?” the Dark Slayer flinched at the sound of your voice, even though it was soft and calm, “Vergil, are you okay?”

     He couldn’t come up with what to say in response, only whimpering again with a sad twitch of his lip. 

     Using an even softer tone, you set your head on the door, “Vergil… Let me in, please?”

     Despite his effort to come up with something, all he could muster was a loud voice crack as gripped the countertop.

     “Vergil,” you sighed quietly, “I want to see you. Please open the door,” an overwhelming amount of fear had consumed your mind; not for yourself, but over how Vergil might punish himself over this, “Please, Vergil…”

     “I-” he took a harsh breath trying to calm himself--and failing miserably, “What if I--” a crack began to form in the laminate countertop as his raw skinned fingers gripped harder and harder in growing frustration.

     “You won't; I promise.”

     After what seemed like an eternity, Vergil shut off the faucet and unlocked the door. You opened the door slowly and felt your heart sink at seeing your blue devil. 

     At the furthest point from the door, he was sitting on the floor, trembling heavily. Scalding red marks adorned his pale skin where he had been scrubbing and his fingers were no better. 

     “Vergil…” you approached him and saw his body stiffen, “Can I sit next to you?” 

     All he gave you was a small nod. Slowly, you moved next to him and sat beside him.

     Neither of you spoke for nearly a half hour. At one point, you managed to get a hold of one of his hands and intertwined your fingers; thumbing over the fading red marks. Internally, you were fighting the urge to hold him as close and as tight to you as possible.

     Vergil’s voice was nearly silent when he finally spoke, “I’m sorry.”

     “It’s okay--”

     “No,” he pulled his hand from yours and turned to stare at you, “No, it’s not okay,” with each word he got louder and held more frustration, “I could have--” he clenched his jaw as he scrunched his face, holding back his overwhelming storm of emotions, “I could have killed you!”

     “Vergil…” you decided to follow his idea and pivoted to face him fully, “I face death every day with work so it--”

     The blue devil snarled loudly, “I am not some mindless fucking demon,” he gripped his face with his hands, “I should be able to control myself!” tears began to slide down his face as he grimaced intensely, bearing his teeth in frustration.

     You were taken aback, you have never heard Vergil swear before, let alone sound so distraught, “I--” your lips pursed as you carefully chose your words, “I didn’t mean it like that, Vergil,” you gently set a hand on his knee, “I just meant that I’m used to that kind of thing, as morbid as that sounds.”

     A tremble reappeared through his lips, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that from me; it goes against everything I…” his mouth opened as if he were going to continue but no words came out.

     You were trying your hardest to stay calm despite wanting to join his crying upon seeing him this way. Tenderly, you thumbed over his leg, “When we got married,” you made sure to keep your voice slow and soft, “I signed up for whatever hardships may happen, to or from either of us--that we would figure things out together,” you noticed that Vergil’s stare had finally reconnected to yours, “no matter what the what happens."

     Vergil pursed his lips before taking a slow deep breath through his nose. His brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, slowly stopping his weeping, and removed his hands from his face. 

     A part of Vergil wanted to argue with you; to tell you that you're insane, delusional, that you shouldn't bear the punishment of his inner demons. The feeling of you grabbing his hands and holding them pulled him from his bitter thoughts. 

     Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, whispering against them, “I love you,” you brought the other hand up and repeated your action, “more than anything in the world, Vergil.”

     His grip tightened on your hands, “You are a fool," Vergil did his best to sound normal but only managed to give a small whispering whimper of a response. 

     “If loving you is foolish then I will happily play the court jester, my love,” a small smile tugged at your lips, hoping to make him feel a little better.

     After a brief moment of silence, Vergil released your hands and scooched closer to you, “May I see…” he meekly gestured at your neck.

     You nodded slightly and exposed your neck to the blue devil. The skin of your neck had already begun to darken and had small red petechiae marks. It was easy to tell that Vergil had used his hands on you because of the long slender lines of bruising; which ended in much darker spots where he had been pressing the hardest (except his thumbs). At the end of each dark spot were small needle-like marks that had dried blood on and around them. 

     Although you tried your best, you flinched at the feeling of his fingers ghosting your neckline. Vergil’s expression became increasingly distressed the longer he looked at you. Seeing this, you grabbed his other hand and held it tightly; hoping to provide some solace to him. 

     “It’s alright, Vergil, it’ll heal,” you whispered as he pulled his hand back from your neck.

     A small tremble found its way to his lips as he whispered back, “I am sorry.”

     “You do not have to apologize,” you grabbed his other hand and held it, “It is not your fault.”

     He paused for a moment before speaking, “We,” his voice cracked as he avoided your eyes, “We should get you cleaned up.”

     With a comforting grin and soft voice you thumbed over his fingers, “You sure you are okay to do that?”

     Vergil nodded, “I’ll be okay,” he pulled one of your hands to his lips and kissed it very gently.

==

     It wasn’t long before morning rolled around. Reluctantly, you had agreed to let Vergil stay in the living room for the night and you sleep in the bedroom, alone. 

     You woke up freezing as you had grown accustomed to the broiling body heat of your lover. With a loud groaning yawn, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. As you walked to the bathroom, you felt a sudden sharp headache form. 

     Upon reaching the desired location, you noticed that the laminate countertop was cracked badly by Vergil gripping it.

     “Shit,” you grumbled.

     Your thoughts were cut off as you began feeling very off balance, leaning on the broken surface for support, before suddenly lurching forward into a kneel and throwing up in the toilet. During all your years of hunting, you knew what concussions felt like and this was definitely one of the worst ones you've ever had.

     “Fu-uck,” you sighed with a scowl slowly emerging on your features.

     Finishing up what you had originally gone in there to do--and making sure to brush and rinse the fuck out of your mouth--you left the room with a few painkillers in hand.

     The house was uncharacteristically silent as you wobbly meandered your way to the kitchen. Once at the sink, you poured yourself a glass of water and took the pills. With your hands resting on the edge of the sink, you slowly drank the rest of the water; doing your best to stay upright. The lukewarm water only helped to highlight the growing pain in your throat. 

     “Are you alright?” a voice called from your right.

     “Gah--!” you jumped slightly and dropped the cup in the sink--which was thankfully plastic. Then turned to see that it was Vergil, “You scared me, Vergil--" you took a deep breath trying to calm your heart, "I am fine, just a little sore is all.”

     His face softened as he cautiously pulled you into a close hug, “I’m sorry--is there anything I can do to help?”

     “This is exactly what I needed,” you leaned further into him and heard him purring quietly, “How are you doing, dear?”

     Vergil had a small smile as he whispered, “Much better now that I am with you.”

     The two of you held each other--swaying slightly--for what seemed like only mere seconds; when, in reality, it had been nearly a half hour. 

     Vergil nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head and spoke very quietly, “I hate to ruin the moment; however,” he pulled back from the hug enough to see you, “Dante requested us to come in early today.”

     You raised a brow, “Why?”

     “Morrison brought in a big contract; Dante requested that all of us be there for the briefing…” Vergil placed a hand on your face, not wanting to let you go.

     “Mmn, suppose I need to get ready,” you leaned into his palm and closed your eyes, and sighed, leaning out of the hug, “Best not to be late again."

==

      Both of you stood at the front door, debating on how you were getting to the DMC. Since you had a concussion, traveling with the Yamato was out of the question--last time you had traveled under the same circumstances, you almost threw up inside the portal and then proceeded to pass out once on the other side.

     “You sure you’re alright with this? I can just call an Uber or something,” you folded your arms and raised a brow.

      Vergil nodded, “I am fine with it; however if you aren’t then--”

     “No- no, it's fine just,” you tried not to laugh, “never thought 'flying via devil' would be something I’d do.”

     He grinned, “Perhaps we should travel this way more then.”

     “And here I thought you only used your trigger for emergencies,” you playfully teased.

     “This is an acceptable outlier,” Vergil laughed quietly. 

     With a bright flash of cornflower blue light, Vergil stood before you in his devil trigger.

     A warm smile adorned your face as you approached the black and blue devil, "I never knew the devil was so handsome,” your voice was laced with sarcasm as you placed a hand on his cheek.

     “Chivalry will get you nowhere, human, ” Vergil gently jested back, holding back a small laugh, “I will devour you whole.”

     “Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you dramatized your words; placing the back of your hand on your forehead and leaning back slightly, “Someone save me,” you did your best to stifle your laughter.

     He wrapped his wings around you and looked downwards at your expression, “No one will take you from me, pet. ”

     “I-” your lips were slightly agape as you tried to formulate a response--Vergil had never called you that before.

     However, he spoke before you could come up with anything, “What? Devil got your tongue?” he leaned in close, breath washing over your lips.

     “Mmn, no,” you moved your lips even closer to his, “I wish he did though.”

     Vergil cautiously connected with your lips. You moved your hands to the dark reddish-brown underside of the leathery appendages and slowly ran your fingers along the grooves. This elicited a moan from your blue devil and made him push himself against you harder. His fingers were trembling as he ghosted them along your sides, catching your attention.

     Breaking off the kiss but not moving away, you whispered against his lips, “You can touch me, Vergil. You won’t hurt me,” you used your hands to push his palms to your sides.

     His pupils dilated slightly, “Are you--”

     You cut him off with an aggressive kiss, placing your hand on his chest and kneading into him. Not wasting any more time, Vergil came back at you with an even more intense fervor. He pushed his tongue within the confines of your mouth. A muffled moan came from your lips as Vergil used his oral mastery inside your cavern; touching everything he could and playing with your tongue.

     After a minute or two, you both broke apart from the kiss. You smiled widely at him and placed a long sweet smooch on the tip of his nose; making him scrunch a bit in confusion. The two of you stood holding one another for a few minutes before you broke the serene silence. 

     “We should probably get going,” you sighed, “otherwise we won’t be making it to work…”

     The eldest son of Sparda sighed as well, “I suppose you are right…” he picked you up bridal style as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, “Shall we?”

     You nodded as he opened the door. A sudden cold wind shot right through you as you leaned in closer to the hot-blooded devil. It was raining quite heavily so Vergil shifted you to face him completely; sheltering you the best he could from the elements, holding you underneath your thighs. With a small grunt from the devil, you two were off into the air.

==

     The flight wasn’t very long, you were at the DMC within a half hour; however, the rain had steadily gotten worse and made it a less-than-optimal flight. Vergil decided to land on the roof rather than risk being seen on the street and quickly ushered you indoors; fearing you would fall ill. 

     You took off your sopping wet coat and shook your head a bit, trying to dry off. Vergil had de-triggered and, because of how hot his devil trigger is, he was bone dry as he raised a brow at your “dog-like” actions.

     “What?” you looked up at him, giving him a curious smile.

     “Nothing,” he gave you a smirk in return.

     The two of you came downstairs, Vergil went first as you followed. Upon entering the foyer, you noticed that Vergil wasn’t kidding when Dante said “everyone”. Said red devil, Nero, Trish, Lady, and even Nico were inside the Devil May Cry; all chatting amongst themselves. 

     The younger twin noticed you both on the stairs and flashed a wide grin, “Glad you both could make it! Thought maybe you were going to sleep in-- Ah,” a small dagger from Vergil jabbed Dante in the arm.

     You pursed your lips and stifled your laughter, quietly speaking to Vergil, “Give me your coat? I’ll go hang it.”

     He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before doing as you asked; delicately handing you the dark navy clothing. Vergil moved towards the bar counter to converse with Nero as everyone else resumed their conversations. With a small spring to your step, you waltzed over to the hooks near the front door and hung both your jackets. Pivoting on your heels, you went to move back into the room when you were stopped by Dante. 

     The red devil stood in front of you and used his forefinger and thumb to turn your head upwards; revealing the bruising on your neck. An aggressive furrow appeared on his brow as he frowned intensely.

     “Dante,” you whispered so that only he could hear you, “It’s not what you think--” his turquoise eyes locked with yours before he let go of your chin. It was too late.

     He turned around, “Alright,” Dante’s voice was between serious and pissed-off, a tone that was highly unlike the high-spirited brother, “What the fuck.”

     Vergil tilted his head ever-so-slightly and parted his lips in confusion, squinting at his twin.

     Dante made his way across the room, you followed him and tried to get him to stop, but were unable as he spoke even louder than before, “What is wrong with you?!”

     The blue devil’s face only became more confused as his eyes flicked between his brother and you.

     The red devil shoved Vergil, “Answer me, Vergil!”

     Fearing that the two would escalate into a larger fight, you grabbed one of Dante’s arms and tugged him away, straining your sore voice, “Dante you don’t understand-”

     Dante turned to you, “I think I know strangle marks when I see them,” his eyes went back to Vergil, “I'm tired of not saying anything.”

     With a slight sharpness, Vergil closed his eyes and scrunched his face, “What are you talking about?”

     “Don't play stupid,” Dante raised his voice even louder with a slight growl, “You think that I didn’t notice? Everyone here has noticed--fuck,” he flung his arm out, gesturing at nothing in particular, “even Morrison asked me about it!”

     “What does--”

     Dante's voice was unbearably loud as he yelled at his older brother, "You're fucking beating your husband, Vergil!” 

     The shop went silent. At this point, Nero had moved toward the couch the three ladies were sitting on, awaiting Vergil’s response.

     Your eyes widened at Dante and the absurd notion he had brought forth. Knowing Dante as you do, you had figured he was going to jab at Vergil for "being too rough in bed" or something stupid--not domestic abuse. With a slightly furrowed brow, you turned to the group next to you, then back to the brothers, and noticed Vergil’s pale stare. 

     Vergil huffed quietly through his nose as he looked downwards, pursing his lips in thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Dante with a cold glare, "Do you really think that lowly of me, Dante?"

     Dante cocked his head to the side, his voice still laced with a growl, "You know, after what you've done? Sorry, but I wouldn't put it past you."

     Vergil’s face was barren of any emotion--to everyone else besides you, that is. You’ve been in a relationship long enough with the stone-faced slayer that it was painfully obvious how much Dante’s accusation hurt him. Unable to think of what to say, he just stood there and glared at his twin. 

     "I ain't letting this go, Vergil. I'll stand here all fuckin--" a loud crack of thunder cut Dante off as the power went out in the shop.

     You weren't sure what happened, but the next thing you knew, you were on the floor and a sin-triggered Vergil was encompassing your surroundings. It was overwhelmingly hot as you felt his wings and arms tighten around you, pushing you further into his chest. The blue-grey devil shook wildly as a continuous thunderous growl emanated from deep within his chest. At any other point, it would have been a nice feeling; however, the loud sounds, sweltering heat, and the bright blue light from his chest made your headache turn from bad to agonizing. 

     Through the loud rumbling, you could vaguely make out Dante speaking; something about Vergil overreacting. Then you felt Vergil shift slightly and heard a loud yelp from the younger twin. There was a loud shuffling of hasty movement from the couch beside the two of you which made Vergil snarl even louder. 

     Lady could be heard telling Dante to “back off” of (presumably) Vergil. You then a loud creak of the garage door being opened and more shuffling feet. The last thing you heard from the rest of the crew was Nero saying something unintelligible and shutting the door. Leaving Vergil and you alone in the foyer. 

     This was the first time Vergil had done something like this and you were unsure how to calm him down; so you just slowly wriggled your hand free and kneaded into the bright blue lines of your lover’s chest, “Hey,” you whispered in hopes of catching his attention, “It’s alright, Vergil.”

     His growling quieted a bit, however, his grip tightened into an almost painfully tight vice.

     A small grunting groan left your lips as you spoke again, “Vergil, we are okay. I’m okay,” you heard his growling subside further, “It’s okay, darling. We are safe, inside the Devil May Cry,” you leaned your head into his chest and kneaded harder against him, “It was just thunder. It’s okay--we are okay.”

     You continued to intermittently tell the blue devil various forms of grounding statements as he slowly calmed down; loosening his grip and quieting his thundering growl. Although he doesn’t have to breathe when in this form, you heard soft whistling as he took small short breaths in through his sharpened teeth. His shaking had subsided as well; only moving with the reverberations of his small breaths. 

     A grin tugged at your lips as you heard a small distant start of a purr from your kneading, “It’s alright, my love. Nothing is going to harm us…”

     Finally, he pulled back from your body. He placed his palms flat on the floor next to you and kept his wings around you, just much looser now. His pupil-less luminescent eyes just stared at you, leaving you to assume he was looking over your body for any sign of injury. 

     Very carefully, you moved your hands to the sides of his face and gently thumbed over the leathery denim-colored skin, “Hey…”

     He leaned forward placing his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, showing you that he was coming back around. You placed a long tender kiss against his fangs and heard him purr louder. 

     As quiet as he could manage with his distorted voice, Vergil whispered to you, “Are you okay?”

     “I’m fine,” you smiled and gently jested, “head’s killin’ me though and the floors kinda cold” you laughed and moved your hands to the gap of skin between his shoulder pauldrons and neck, kneading with your fingers, “Are you alright, Vergil?”

     Vergil nodded slightly, “Yes,” feeling the soft touch of your fingers against him, he allowed himself to de-trigger; slowly switching to his regular trigger and then his human form. All the while, you continued to massage his shoulders and tried your best to ignore the throbbing in your skull; wanting nothing more than to rip your head off. 

     The blue devil’s breath was ragged and he avoided looking you in the eyes. When he went to sit upwards, you grabbed his forearms, gaining his attention, “Vergil,” your voice was barely audible.

     After waiting a moment, Vergil cocked his head slightly, “What is it?”

     “Could,” you pursed your lips with embarrassment, “Could you help me up?”

     Vergil nodded, “Of course.”

     The eldest twin stood up and then leaned forwards to help you upright. You stumbled into him as you felt nauseously lightheaded.

     Noticing this, Vergil held one of your arms, “Steady…”

     You used your other hand to grab his shoulder and did your best to adjust to standing. He looked over to the couch and then back to you; before slowly picking you up and setting you on the pleather surface. Not wanting him to leave you, you grabbed his tie and tugged it slightly. 

     “I will be right back,” he grabbed the hand from the tan fabric and kissed it gently; which surprised you because of his distaste for out-of-house affections. 

     It was then that you noticed how quiet the shop was and how dark it was; the power had gone out completely. A loud creak from the garage door made you scrunch your face in slight pain. Vergil stood in the doorway and said nothing before moving back to stand near Dante’s desk. 

     You noticed a large cut through Dante’s shirt and realized that Vergil had used his tail to defend you from the red twin. Thankfully, Dante could heal quickly otherwise it might have been a trip to the ER from how large the incision seemed to be.

     “So care to explain what the fuck that was?” Dante’s voice was loud, as normal; however, it felt like he was shouting right beside you.

     Vergil noticed your discomfort and addressed his brother, “Quiet, you are being much too loud,” he flicked his gaze to you, “and no; I don’t.”

     The younger twin’s face scrunched in irritation. Before he could speak, Lady cut him off by roughly slamming her hand atop his shoulder, “Maybe the two of you should go home for the day? Dante can text you the information later on.”

     “Are you sure?” Vergil raised a brow at the sudden personable suggestion, “Or would Dante rather yell more absurd accusations at me?”

     The red devil growled, forgetting to keep quiet, “You son of--”

     “Watch your tongue. Mother is right here,” he flicked his eyes to the photo on Dante’s desk.

     “I fuckin--”

     You scrunched your face harshly and hoarsely snapped, “Oh my g-god,” you groaned, “Vergil isn’t beating me and I have a fuckin major headache. I thank you for your concern Dante, but it is misplaced… so can you please just drop it?”

     The younger twin shook his head, “You expect me to--”

     “It is a result of my night terrors and we are dealing with it ourselves,” Vergil said curtly, despite not wanting to talk about it. Then turned to address Lady, “I think we will take you up on that suggestion and leave,” the blue devil moved to grab your coats from the wall “Keep us informed..?"

     No one responded as Vergil handed you your coat and you put it on as best you could while sitting. You wobbled a bit as you went to stand, but, a set of strong arms picked you up. A small blush found its way to your face as you realized Vergil was carrying you from underneath your thighs in front of everyone else.

     Nero was the only one to address either of you as you headed up to the stairs, “Fly safe; winds pretty bad out there.”

     Vergil nodded in thanks to his son as the two of you disappeared from view, heading to the roof. You nestled your face into the crook of Vergil’s neck, taking a deep calming breath. It didn’t take long for you to sleep--or rather pass out--in the blue devil’s arms and it stayed that way till you got home. 

==

     When you opened your eyes next, you were laying underneath the duvet of your shared bed. Slowly blinking awake, you mumbled, “Vergil?” and felt around to see if he was nearby. Nothing.

     A hissing groan left your lips as you sat up and looked at the alarm clock. It had been several hours since you left the shop. You stretched upwards and immediately regretted it.

     “Fuck,” you groaned as you grabbed your head with one hand, the headache from earlier surged back into existence. 

     In hopes to remedy this, you decided to try taking a hot bath. The moment you stood up, however, you fell forwards and just barely caught yourself with your forearms. A small laugh of disbelief escaped through your painful groan, it was really just not your day. 

     The sound of a familiar sharp voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. You slowly moved your head upwards and saw Vergil standing above you with a wide-eyed confused stare. He was wearing a space-blue sleeveless turtleneck with black yoga pants.

     Admittedly, you weren’t exactly in a normal headspace when you cooed at the blue devil, “Ooh! You’re even prettier at this angle, Vergil.”

     The blue devil crouched in front of you and rested his forearms on his legs, “I leave you for five minutes and you end up on the floor?”

     With parted lips and raised brows, you eyed him up and down, “Was my plan all along since, from here, I get a really good view of your--”

     Vergil put up a hand telling you to stop, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Would you like help up?”

     “Nah,” you jested and rolled over to face the ceiling, “I like being stuck on the floor,” a sly smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head back, “especially when we’re--”

     “Enough,” Vergil sighed and moved to help you upright into a soft embrace. 

     You sighed and leaned into him, “You know I love you, right Vergil?”

     “Perhaps I should take you to the hospital, you are acting in a very concerning manner…” 

     “No way in hell am I going to the doctor,” you pulled back and had a small pout on your lips, “I just need you beside me and I feel much better…”

     “That seems rather counter-intuitive, don’t you think?” his voice had an outlying tinge of sadness as he looked down at you. 

     “Not in the slightest. In fact,” you moved your hands to his chest, “I already am starting to feel better in your arms.”

     He avoided your eyes and had a small sad frown. A deep sharp pang of sadness stabbed at your heart at seeing him look so dejected. 

     You used a hand to cup the cheek facing away from you and gently turned him back to face you, “Vergil, care to join me for a bath?” you knew that he was still beating himself up over things and wanted to distract him for a while.

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose as he closed his eyes in slight confusion, “What..?”

     “Come on, you need a break… to relax,” you cocked your head to the side, “Please?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

     Which seemed to do the trick as he sighed with a smirk “If that is what you want then I will accompany you.”

     You pulled his face down to yours and gave him a small peck on the cheek, “Thank you, Vergil.”

     Although the blue devil was hesitant to let you go, you eventually wander off with a very wobbly saunter. Slowly, you moved to the dresser and began to grab some clothing when you heard Vergil murmur, “I’ll go draw it up and I’ll be back for you; please try and stay upright,” then he left the room.

     Your headache had subsided for the most part and was just a dull throbbing now. However, you still wanted to lay with him for a while, knowing that he needed it as much as you did. A warm smile crept its way to your face as you moved toward the edge of the bed to sit until he came back. You decided to lean over to the side table and grab your phone, checking it for any messages. Surprisingly, Dante and Nero had texted you.

     The younger twin had sent a rather all-over-the-place paragraph explaining that he was sorry for the outburst in the shop and that he was just worried that something was going on. You sent Dante a text explaining that it was nice of him to worry but that, before he goes off, he needs to listen better.

     Nero was making sure that both of you were alright and that if either of you needed anything to let him know. 

     Before you were able to respond, Vergil walked back into the room, “Are you ready?” his voice was very quiet and meek; catching you off guard.

     “Yeah just gimme one second, just gotta send this…” Vergil looked at you with a slightly curious head tilt, you smiled at him, “Nero was just making sure everything was okay.”

     “I see,” Vergil gave a weak grin.

     “Nero’s worried about you,” you set the phone back down on the table and grabbed one of Vergil’s hands, “He’s a good kid, ya know? You’re one lucky dad.”

      With a small shake of his head, Vergil pulled you off the bed, “Need I remind you that he is technically your son, too?”

     You laughed and pursed your lips, “Sometimes I forget that part if I’m honest,” the two of you slowly made your way to the bathroom, “Especially since we are like the same age--you cougar,” with a playful wink you let go of Vergil’s hand to get undressed.

     Vergil’s face scrunched, “You make it sound as if I am too old for you.”

     Playfully, you shoved his shoulder, “Bah- you don’t look a day over 30; besides,” you paused a moment as you watched Vergil remove his shirt, “I like older men~”

     “Those two statements contradict each other,” he noticed your gaze as he slid his pants off, “However, I appreciate the sentiment.”

     Once you both were fully stripped, Vergil helped you into the tub; fearing you would fall, “Hey, Vergil..?” he looked at you, “Can you sit in, like,” with pursed lips, you tried to figure out how to explain what you wanted, “in my lap? Like with your back to me?”

     “I-” he raised a brow and turned his lips to a thin line, “May I ask why?”

     A smile ghosted your face as you cooed, “I want to be able to play with your hair.”

     The blue devil was a little apprehensive at allowing such an action, but he did as you requested; positioning himself in front of you. His shoulders tensed up at the sudden feeling of vulnerability and being so exposed to you--even if the two of you have been together for a long time now. Noticing this, you gently wrapped your arms around his middle and leaned him back into you while you leaned back yourself; ending up in a semi-lying position. 

     Tenderly, you ran your fingers through his neatly slicked back locks, “You alright, Vergil?”

     With a small stuttering inhale, Vergil rested further against you, “Yes…”

     A faint purring came from the blue devil as he relaxed against your touch. The two of you just sat in the warm soapy water for nearly fifteen minutes, laying against each other. 

     Vergil shifted a bit to lay the side of his head on your chest before meekly whispering, “I love you,” typically, this would have made you ecstatic hearing him say such a thing; but there was an underlying sullen tone to the phrase. 

     You moved one of your hands to grab his while keeping up your ministrations through his hair, “I love you too, Vergil--more than anything.”

     “May I ask you something? And I want you to answer me honestly,” his eyes were glued to your fingers that were intertwined with his own.

     “Sure,” you removed your fingers from his hair and set that hand on his shoulder.

     “Are,” with each word his voice became quieter, “Are you afraid of me?”

     “No,” you answered without skipping a beat, “I will never be afraid of you, no matter what...”

     Another bout of silence fell as you felt him lean harder into you while taking slow deep breaths.

     “May--,” the Dark Slayer closed his eyes and spoke in a hushed voice, “May I confide in you for a moment?”

     “Of course, my love,” you leaned and kissed the top of his head attempting to reassure the man. 

     He sighed and turned further into your chest, hiding his face, “N-Nothing scares me more than causing you pain,” you felt his brow furrow, “These past few months, have been spurred on by a combination of that fear and,” he had a lump begin to form in his throat, “and my time spent under Mundus’s…” he swallowed audibly in an attempt to deter his emotions.

     You squeezed his hand tightly and you moved your other hand back to his hair, hoping to console him a bit. 

     Which worked, he took a shuddering breath and continued, “In my dreams--” he pursed his lips and unintentionally pushed himself as hard as he could into you, “I’m always back as- and I can’t,” he paused once more, realizing that this is much harder than he had anticipated, “control myself and I-I don’t know that it’s-- until it’s too late,” his voice cracked into silence as he gripped your hand in a vice hold. 

     That was enough for you to put together what he meant as your eyes widened. You whispered and moved your hand from his hair to his shoulder, holding him close, “Vergil…” you didn’t know what to do--how to help him.

     All you could think to do was to hold him close and comfort him as he cried into your chest. You knew that he had nightmares about his time of being enslaved to Mundus and the other atrocities that have happened to the poor blue devil. Throughout your time together, Vergil had told you about that time and has even sought comfort in you when he was upset. 

     A meek whisper pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m sorry,” he sighed heavily, “I know this is substandard behavior.”

     “Vergil,” you kneaded his bicep, “This is normal behavior, you don’t have to be strong all the time,” placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, you murmured, “You’re human--you have emotions; both good and bad.”

     “I feel as if I have disappointed you,” despite his sad tone, a light purring could be heard from him--indicating he was at least comfortable.

     “You could never disappoint me, Vergil--especially over something like this. Things take time to heal and even then they still leave scars; you aren’t to blame for what has happened, my love.”

     “I do not understand how after what I have done in my lifetime,” his voice cracked with a tinge of frustration as he sat upright. His front side was facing out of the tub toward the innards of the room,  leaving you to see his side profile, “Why you still believe me to be a good person…”

     “Vergil,” you moved to sit up as well, no longer resting your back on the tub, “I don’t believe that you are a good person; I know you are a good person,” you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his emotions again, “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

     A thin pained grin adorned his features as he turned his face from you; hiding the fact he had begun to cry once more.

     “People do bad things,” you shrugged your shoulders a bit in thought, “that doesn’t make them a bad person. Traumatic experiences make people do things that otherwise might not have.” you paused and thought for a moment, “Vergil, you have been punished ten-fold by everyone your entire life, even for things that you had no control over. Which is total shit. You deserve to be treated well and like a living breathing person. I know you are a good person because you have shown me that many times over; you are worthy of love, Vergil.”

     Vergil let out a loud shuttering exhale and turned his head to look at you with pursed lips. He wanted to say something, anything, but all he could muster was a small whimper of acknowledgment. 

     Moving to your knees, you spoke softly, “Is there anything that I can do to help you with these nightmares?”

     “I,” after a small pause in thought, he turned to come face to face with you and grabbed your hands in his, “Could you promise me something?”

     “Anything.”

     “If we get into any altercations with,” he avoided your eyes with an increasing embarrassment eating the edges of his mind, “Angelo-type demons, please, leave them to me; please..?”

     Your brow twitched in confusion as you cocked your head to the side; that’s when things clicked and you remembered what happened shortly before these terrors began, “Sure, if that is what brings you solace then I will,” you smiled, trying to make him feel a little better.

     “Thank you,” his eyes re-connected with yours and he gave a small smirk.

     The two of you sat for a brief moment before you pursed your lips and smiled semi-awkwardly, “I hate to ruin the moment, but could we get out of the water? I’m kinda cold…”

     Vergil straightened his posture and nodded, “Of course, wanderer,” he moved to get out of the water and held his hands out for yours.

     You grabbed them and wobbly got up, “Oh? I haven’t heard you use that in a long time.”

     A small huffed laugh came from the blue devil as he handed you a towel, “It was the first nickname I gave you. I thought it appropriate for the moment…”

     “It was wasn’t it?” you shook your head, “That feels like a lifetime ago…”

     “In a sense, it was quite literally,” he leaned over and drained the tub.

     With a small laugh and nod, you finished drying off. While the two of you got dressed, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your lover. 

     “Is something wrong?” Vergil noticed your stare.

     Pursing your lips you thought for a moment and decided to indulge in his love for Blake’s poems, “ 'Joy & Woe are woven fine,/A Clothing for the Soul divine;/Under every grief & pine,/Runs a joy with silken twine.' "

     An amused look adorned his face as he stood with parted lips thinking for a moment, “Auguries of Innocence?” the Dark Slayer cupped the side of your face, “We never did finish that poem; you’d always fall asleep.”

     “Not my fault you have such a soothing voice,” you placed your hands on his chest and leaned into his palm, “Want to try again?”

     He leaned against your forehead, “If it is alright with you, I think I’d rather sleep…”

     “Only if you stay beside me,” you looked into his icy eyes; enamored with the thousands of different blue-grey hues, “please..?”

     “Are you sure-- Mnm,” he was cut off by a sudden connection of your lips.

     It was a slow and passionate kiss as you poured all the love you could into that one moment. Once satisfied, you left the kiss and whispered against his lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vergil.”

     Without another word, he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. Carefully, he set you down and crawled into bed with you. A small lingering sense of dread crept in from the edges of his mind; however, those were pushed away when you laid atop his chest. You curled into him and he tangled his limbs with yours.

     As the two of you drifted off to sleep, Vergil had a very small content grin as he allowed himself to sleep; knowing that, at least for tonight, his terrors will be kept at bay. 

==

Ending Notes: Sorry that was lowkey all over the place, I just went with the flow of my brain. It kind of just ended up being a long fluff fic.  Also to add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Poem quoted:      Auguries of Innocence: William Blake

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 1-5 with Itward

Probably going to alternate between characters instead of brute forcing through these in a solid line of posts like I did with jason, mostly to give you guys some variety and because like

2 of the 3 characters I wanna do this with are VERY under rated

While I usually do just 3 prompts per post imma bump up to 5 because uhuh

These are personal writings and I know a bulk of you wont be interested in the characters I have in mind so less posts = less spam for you guys

ONE BED TROPE

He is... very polite. He cant deny that he feels a little soft on the inside at the thought of being in such close proximity to you, but hes a gentleman! Hes going to make sure your comfort is the priority! Do you need more room? Hes scooting away. Need something to cuddle in order to fall asleep? .. he might just offer his arm..! He's not quite used to being so close to someone for so long so it's fair to say he might not fall asleep. No matter, he can always sleep another time!

SICK

FIRST KISS

I've written this before!

Its been a while since hes kiss someone else, though he probably has done it before. Obviously with no lips you can only take it so far, not that it's that big of a deal, he wants your first kiss to be.. sweet, with intention and passion. He doesnt kiss and move on. Though I hope you can forgive him for tugging his hat down to cover his face after he lightly presses his teeth to your lips..

LOSS

On the chance that he thinks you're... deceased... he tries to keep himself together to those around him. Hes lost people before, be it to them naturally drifting away or they've passed away. It.. gets easier. That's not to say hes not preparing himself to start grieving once he comes to terms that you're gone.. except you're not, you eventually turn up. Hes still shocked, dont get me wrong. Actually hes shaken to his core, he could've sworn you had.. but hes so relieved that you're still alive..! He may need a moment to himself to recover from the emotional whiplash, though..

HANAHAKI

He is aware of what the disease is, so he already knows how to prepare and cope with it when hes the one who gets it.. though how much damage can it really do when the sick doesnt have lungs to be smothered and torn apart? Its more of a nuisance to him than anything. It doesnt make it any less messy, though.. he knows what he has to do to make it stop, but itward isn't sure if he has the nerve in him to do it. The real thing pushing him to doing it, asides from the inconvenience of the mess and coughs, is you growing worried for him.. and as selfish as it may be, you worry be has it for someone that isnt you. You know it's terribleto think that but the thought is still there.. its actually not as dramatic as an ordeal as it would have been had the roles been reversed

[sphylor]

can kitty dew get high on catnip??

he can indeed! Mountain started growing it as a joke when he first found out about Dew going kitty but he never thought it would actually have any effect on him. he doesnt get hyper. he gets super chilled out and lays down and starts rubbing and rolling around. after a while he zones out completely, high as a kite. he'll normally be found half hanging off the sofa upside down with his tongue blepping out slightly, a huge dopy grin on his face. he also tries to make a lot of noises at the same time. so he'll meow and growl at the same time for example and then get all confused at the sound that just came out of his mouth and try again. it doesnt last long though, only around 10 minutes or so before it wears off.

once they realise it has an effect on him in comes little mousey 2.0! so basically normal little mousey is the one he takes everywhere with him and is his emotional support mousey but the second little mousey is one of those toys you can put catnip in. unlike little mousey, this one is orange instead of blue (they were bought as a set and those were the ones chosen specifically because the colours correspond to Rain and Dew). it doesnt come out every time he goes kitty but if he's having an especially hard time relaxing or calming down from whatever sent him into kitty brain in the first place then they bring out the orange mousey for him.

[meowthefluffy]

AU EXPLANATION MASTERPOST 

Hello hello my darling followers, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of new folks here so I thought id explain all my au’s in one post and where to read them so all of you can understand what the hell I’m talking about 90% of the time! 

I’m Madeline, the world’s number one producer of hyper specific prinxiety au’s and I hope you’ll enjoy what’s I’ve got in store for you!

I’ve ordered these in descending order of most content to least amount of content. Each story has a brief plot description and where to find them! All of my au’s are ongoing so even if it’s a bit old if you pop me an ask or want more content of an au I am happy to provide :)

(Explanations are under the cut)

Lust!Roman au:

First and foremost the au that started it all, the lust Roman saga! Don’t let the title fool you this is a 100% pg13 story I just named it before I thought through the consequences. 

Format: This au unlike all my others is a full scale comic (that ranges in quality art wise as I’ve spent over three years on this comic and I’ve improved a lot as an artist)

It also is the au with the most amount of supplementary material ( animatics, a side ask blog illustrations ect.) As well as the only one I have that takes place in the normal universe

Summary.

Something is horribly wrong with Roman. Some thing or someone has replaced the Roman the sides know and Virgil is determined to get to the bottom of it, but he’s far closer to the center of the issue than he could have ever predicted.

TLDR: Roman goes evil mode to get Virgil to love him

Rating: Solidly pg13 , a few jokes here and there but mostly a serious emotional drama 

Link to master post :

Evil king au

One of my more recent au’s but definitely a favorite of mine! 

Format: Sketched Comics, illustrations and a series of asks explaining the au in bite sized chunks 

Summary:

Virgil is a morally bankrupt evil king and Roman is his diligent personal guard. When Virgil eventually falls for his guard he’s convinced Roman is too good for him,  Virgil is evil after all, but his guard is happy to prove him wrong. Underneath his sweet exterior Roman is just as twisted and is more than happy to serve his king.

TLDR :

Omg they are so messed up and evil but they’re gonna kiss about it

Rating: Definitely dark but has clear spots of happiness. Overall a tragedy 

This au is all under the tag #evil king au so you can find everything there!

Sleeping beauty au:

A very recent au, A modern fairytale retelling, now with bonus tragedy!

Format:

Colored and sketched Comics, illustrations and asks 

Summary:

Once upon a time like in many other stories a prince fell into a deep slumber, but unlike those other stories true loves kiss doesn’t come to save him. Instead the prince is awoken again in the present, hundreds of years after he was put to sleep and is has lost everything. Now he’s nothing but a footnote in history and everyone he has ever known is long gone.

And to make matters worse a man identical to the one he loved in his time is here as well, with no recollection of him at all.

But as he grows accustomed to modern life he begins to question, was any of it even real?

TLDR:

Man out of time, fairytale tragedy edition 

Rating:

Overall quite sad but with a hopeful ending.

All of this au can be found under the tag #sleeping beauty au

Zombie au:

An older series but a fun one nonetheless! Also my au with the highest number of sketches comics !

Format : 

Mostly sketched comics, with sketch sheets, illustrations and an animatic to supplement 

Summary : 

Virgil and Roman are best friends (and maybe something more) but when the zombie apocalypse breaks out the two are separated and Roman parishes.

Virgil feels extreme guilt over this, so when he suddenly finds Roman again, now fully zombified and questionably sentient he’s determined not to let him go again.

Now they must try and face off against the wasteland they’re in and survive together, hopefully…

TLDR : It takes the literal Zombie apocalypse for Virgil and Roman to get together 

Rating: It has quite a bit of violence and a little bit of gore (Roman is rotting after all) with an overall melancholy tone at best 

This au sadly has a very inconsistent tagging system, (I kept forgetting what the tag was when I made new posts) but check my archive tags for any variation of the tag #zombie au! 

Cupid au

Format: Comics, illustrations, and asks

Summary : 

Virgil is a grim reaper that works in the misfortune department of the heavenly council. Roman is the first cupid to ever be transferred to the misfortune department, and Virgil is assigned to him to keep him in check. The two get along wonderfully despite their differences, or at least right up until Virgil accidentally proposes to Roman. And Roman says yes.

By the time Virgil realizes what he’s done it’s too late, Roman is already half way through planning the wedding and Virgil would rather die than break his heart like that. Roman’s just so happy and he keeps looking at Virgil likes he’s hung the moon every time they’re in the same room, and he can’t take that joy from him. There are worse people to accidentally marry, this won’t be too bad.

Right?

TLDR

 LOCAL EMO ACCIDENTALLY MARRYS CO WORKER AND THEN FALLS IN LOVE WITH SAID COWORKER 

(This one is one of my favorites)

Rating E for everyone, all rom-com gags and sweet moments 

Found under the #cupid!au or #cupidau! Tags 

Eldridge abomination au

Format Gag comics , illustrations,bullet fics and asks

Summary 

Virgil moves into a new neighborhood and is obsessed with his very reclusive neighbors. He’s convinced there’s something horribly wrong with him(and he’s right but no one knows that just yet) 

Now he’s determined to figure out what, so of course he has to observe his neighbor! 

And if those “observation sessions” happen to be in the format of dates that is nobody’s business.

TLDR LOCAL CRYPTOZOOLOGIST OBSESSES OVER HIS MONSTER NEIGHBOR BUT HE PROMISES ITS NOT CAUSE HE’S GAY

Rating Very family friendly (it’s all gags) not including Romans whole horrible abomination monster thing which might be a bit spooky for some

Found under the tag #Eldridge abomination au

Superhero au

Format: very unfinished at the moment, it’s an older au I am currently reworking, mostly illustrations and explanation posts

Summary 

Virgil is a superhero and Roman is his supervillain, but when they aren’t fighting each-other the two are best friends at school . (and also crushing on each-other HARD) shenanigans ensue!

TLDR what if the miraculous love square was good

Rating  Very chill au , angsty in regards to Roman’s backstory but it’s mostly cartoon fun :)

Found under the tag #superhero au (Altho the tagging is a bit inconsistent)

Bonus au’s with not a ton of content but can still be fun to check out :

Mermaid au: I only made a few posts about this au but it can be found under the tag #mermaid au

Ghost au: This au never really took shape but it’s still a cool concept so check it out under the tag #ghost au! 

Let me know what you think of my au’s if you do end up looking at any of them ! :)