#//locked my self up and sat in front of the pc actually doing something for once

[kaikaykoa]

there is no way he’s actually carrying that

[just-an-anxious-mess]

Double Standards (Part 2)

Part 1

Trigger Warning: Mentions of toxic parents, transphobia, mentions of past abuse, dead naming, wrong pronoun usage, low self esteem, unhealthy coping mechanisms, ableism, seasonal depression, thoughts of suicide and self harm. The Remus angst train will not be stopping.

They sat in their room trying to ignore their spiralling thoughts. They should have known better than to slip up and make a comment about their gender identity at dinner.

They'd known it wouldn't go down well and yet they'd still said something. Remus blamed it on their impulsivity and desire to feel validated for once.

Things had started off ok at first. They'd been forced out shopping with their mother and had come across another enby in the wild which had been great. They'd had a discussion about preferred pronouns while their mum and Roman had been in earshot.

Roman had of course been a complete ass the whole time round the shops and Remus was still furious about the leaves incident but they managed to hold themselves back from doing anything rash like breaking his nose which they felt was incredibly nice of them.

The individual at the checkout had given Remus a sudden boost in confidence and rekindled their motivation to correct their parents when they slipped up.

With this new energy they corrected their mother and the three of them (Remus, Roman and their mother) also ended up having a conversation about the LGBTQ+ on the journey home.

All in all things were going good and when they got home they decided to take the cashiers words to heart.

They had told Remus that their 5 year old cousin respected their pronouns and name more than their parents and so with this knowledge in mind Remus decided to talk to Patton.

"Hey Patton? My name is Remus now and instead of saying she or her when talking about me, I'd prefer you to use They and Them."

Patton had looked up at them with barely a moments hesitation and replied "Ok Remus."

Remus felt like their heart was going to burst at Pattons words and they couldn't fight the enormous smile that spread across their lips, especially as Patton continued to use Remus instead of their deadname.

Then dinner happened.

Everyone was sitting around the table as usual when Remus's mum used their deadname when speaking to them. Remus sighed but felt a little reluctant to correct her in front of their father, unsure if his infamous temper would explode at Remus 'backchatting' their mum.

Patton of course spoke up then, slipping up slightly thanks to hearing the deadname being used.

"It's Remus."

Remus was surprised when Roman spoke up on their behalf and was immediately suspicious, frowning slightly at his sudden jump to their defence.

"I call you Remus but mummy calls you [Deadname}" Patton stated, looking directly at their mother.

"That's because I named her after a friend of mines younger sister who died while I was pregnant with her."

Remus winced slightly, already having heard this story many times before. They avoided eye contact with their mother as she continued.

"The names I used to name her carry significant meaning to me so if I forget to call her Remus it's because of that. My friends sister was only 13 when she died and I swore to name you after her in her memory."

Remus just managed to stop from sliding down in their seat, guilt and shame suddenly weighing heavily on them as they thought on their mothers words.

Maybe they should have chosen something closer to their mothers friends sisters name? Maybe then there wouldn't have been as much issue with the whole nonbinary thing?

"I don't even know why you changed your name to Remus anyway? Names shouldn't define your gender. You didn't have to change your name, besides they're pretty much the same anyway."

Remus stared at Roman in shock and horror as they registered his words and felt sick as their mother made a noise of agreement and everyone seemed to just carry on with dinner as if nothing had happened.

When dinner ended Remus made a beeline straight to their room where they proceeded to think and overthink everything that had just happened.

All the stuff their family said weighed on them heavily to the point where they stared off into space for a bit as a horrifying thought crossed their mind.

What if they were faking all this? What if they weren't really nonbinary and it was just all a ploy for attention?

Thoughts of a similar nature bounced around their head, driving them mad with panic and making them rethink everything.

Stressed and in disarray Remus paced up and down, shaking their hands in a way similar to how they usually stimmed.

Eventually they sat down at their computer and tried to distract their buzzing mind with YouTube or music. It didn't have much of an effect.

Eventually they contacted Logan and let him know what had happened. As usual he was logical and spoke sense, even when Remus wasn't in a state to really register it.

His words somewhat reassured Remus. For now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still feeling down from what had happened a couple days previously Remus didn't make as much of an effort to correct Patton or Roman anymore but sometimes their brothers would remember on their own.

Remus spent a lot of time trying to figure out why their parents seemed to have such an issue with their identity but there wasn't really anything they could come up with except their parents were just stuck in the way they'd been brought up.

Things eventually reached boiling point at dinner a few nights later.

Dinner always seemed to be the catalyst for shit hitting the fan. It was probably because that was the only time the entire family was present in the same room for extended periods of time.

It all started with Roman doing an impression of Stitch. It wasn't terrible but it was mildly annoying to Remus's ears. They'd rather eat dinner in peace.

"are you doing a Nelson Mandela impression?" Their mother asked, grinning like she'd made a hilarious joke.

"What? It's Stitch from Lilo and Stitch." Roman and Remus said at the same time, sharing confused looks which became exasperated as their mother continued.

"It sounds exactly like Nelson Mandela, you racist." She laughed, loud and grating on Remus's ears as she nudged their father who was also grinning.

Roman glared at the two of them and tried to again reiterate that it was an impression of Stitch.

"You're a racist, it's exactly the same as Nelson Mandela's voice." their father said, speaking over Roman which was a sure fire way to set off his infamous temper.

"I'm not racist! I don't even know what he sounds like, I was just doing an impression of a cartoon character. Not knowing that my Stitch impression sounds like..."

"That's how racism starts, ignorance!" both their parents were laughing now and Remus wanted nothing more than to shout for them to stop but they kept their mouth shut, something Roman had never learnt to do as he once again spoke up.

"Out of everyone here, you guys are the most racist. You continuously use outdated terms and words that are considered offensive in our current time period."

"Oh we're racist are we?"

"Yes! You're the least PC people in our whole family."

Their mother scoffed while their father was still grinning and shaking his head in disbelief at Romans words.

"The whole family? Even grandad?"

"Yes actually, at least grandad doesn't say anything homophobic or too racist in front of us."

"Actually I think it's the fact that you pretend to be better than him but you're on the same level when it comes to outdated and offensive comments and words."

For once Remus and Roman were working together to try and stop their parents from being as bigoted and offensive.

Perhaps it was the fact they were actually working together or maybe it was just because they had no response, the dining room fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

After a few moments of silence their mother spoke up once again, eyes locked onto Remus.

"are you going to change your middle name too?"

"wha..?" Remus was completely caught off guard by the question.

"Are you going to change the middle name? I mean it has sentimental meaning and your nan was so happy when i told her I was using her middle name for yours. You were her first grandchild. so are you going to change it?"

Remus struggled to come up with a response, feeling like they were being interrogated and put on the spot.

Once again Roman came to their defence.

"You can't pressure someone into going by a name they don't identify with by telling them it has meaning to you. It has meaning to you but it's not how they identify and it's selfish to expect them to stick with it just because of your feelings about the name."

"I named her after my friends little sister who died!"

"Yes, we know, you keep saying but it's still not fair to Remus to basically emotionally blackmail them into sticking with a name they don't identify with."

Remus watched their mother and brother in shock, a warm feeling in their chest at the fact Roman was sticking up for them in such a way.

The warm feeling was immediately replaced by dread as their father spoke up, his grin still in place but it quickly disappeared.

"I'll say whatever the fuck I want to. If you don't like it then you can fuck off. It's my fucking house and I'll fucking say what I fucking want to. And Remus is a stupid fucking name. You're [Deadname]. Don't like it? Then move out!"

With each word their father said the room grew more and more tense and Remus felt their eyes prickling as the dread was replaced with hurt at the knowledge their parents would clearly never accept them as they truly were.

They remained silent, staring down at their plate, trying to ignore the few tears starting to trail down their face.

They focused on shovelling food into their mouth, anticipating the end of dinner when they could make a bid for freedom to their room and breakdown in privacy.

As subtly as they could Remus wiped their eyes, determined not to let either of their parents see just how much their words had effected them. Plus Remus didn't want to give their father an excuse to have a go at them for being weak/overreacting.

Eventually both parents left the table and Roman and Remus were alone in the dining room with the task of clearing up.

Roman was still furious at the conversation during dinner and kept trying to talk to Remus about it but Remus was very aware of their mother being in the other room and the fact Roman tended to get louder when talking about something he was passionate about so they shushed him and made a point of reminding him of where they were.

Eventually Remus was able to escape back to their room and that's when they fully allowed their walls to crumble.

The reality of what the disastrous dinner conversation meant hit them full force and for the first time in a while old urges began to plague their mind.

They collapsed into their computer chair and sobbed silently into their hands, a skill they'd had to learn out of necessity many years ago due to various things.

The little voice in their head they thought they'd finally managed to silence began whispering and Remus clenched their hands into fists in their hair, trying their best to ignore it as it seemed to get louder.

The temptation to give in was overwhelming as the fact they could never safely be their true self around their parents began to really sink in. Then a small spark of hope hit them as they remembered someone who had always been supporting them and fighting their corner, no matter what.

Logan.

In a last ditch effort to rid themself of the old self destructive urges they sent Logan a message and filled him in on how dinner had gone.

It didn't take long for Logan to respond with an optimistic message about getting them out of there as soon as possible and reassuring Remus that their name was just as beautiful as their last and that their father was being an asshole.

Remus felt slightly better but their thoughts were still spiralling and they couldn't ignore the awful feeling welling up inside them as a question filled their mind that they had no answer to.

Why can't they accept me?

They sent Logan this question, still wiping tears from their face as they waited for his response.

Logan replied and Remus scowled, ignoring the fresh tears that spilled down their face as they told Logan that he couldn't promise that they would accept them eventually, that's not how life works.

Logan tried to bring up the fact that Remus's parents had accepted their sexuality but Remus scoffed and pointed out that the real reason their parents had 'accepted' their sexuality is because they were with Logan so for all intents and purposes they could kid themselves that Remus was straight as they were with a guy.

Logan told them that they'd do anything and everything they could in the future to use Remus's name around them as much as possible until they couldn't help but use it themselves.

Remus didn't think that would work but didn't say that, instead choosing not to reply as they couldn't think of anything else to say. Instead they began blasting music at full volume to try and drown out their thoughts.

They lost themself in their music and even began drawing, an old coping mechanism they rarely used anymore but it was a much healthier one than the one they were trying their hardest to ignore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days seemed to pass without much incident, the explosive dinner being forgotten and ignored by everyone as if it never happened.

Of course it was all Remus could think of as they went through the motions of everyday life, wincing every time Patton called them Remus instead of getting the warm feeling of validation because they were terrified their father might get angry again at the reminder.

There was a moment when Remus was trying to escape to their room and their father wanted them to come back downstairs and so he shouted "Oi! Woman!"

Remus felt a wave of revulsion wash through them and grit their teeth to fight down the urge to scream, instead standing at the top of the stairs and answering like nothing was wrong.

As time passed the intrusive thoughts seemed to increase in regularity, every trip downstairs they had thoughts of throwing themselves down them, washing their hands they held their hands under the hot tap as long as they were able and sometimes out of nowhere the urge to scratch at their skin until it bled would overwhelm them.

They managed to fight through these situations by reminding themselves of Logan and their friends but there were a few close calls where they only just kept themselves from doing anything.

It didn't help that it was starting to get closer to the time of year Remus dreaded most.

Christmas.

They loved winter but Christmas and all the things that came with it was a nightmare.

It was a time they couldn't help but associate with awful times.

So many years they'd spent in their room crying over some sort of family crisis or just generally feeling unwanted and they came to hate it more and more as the years went by.

This year would probably be just as bad as ever as things had really took a downturn this year.

Losing people was never easy but Remus seemed to lose everyone around this time so there were various dates they dreaded in November and December.

It was also the time of year their mental health always plummeted and intrusive thoughts of times when they'd almost succeeded with something drastic were plentiful.

They didn't remember the exact dates of those moments but they didn't need to.

Luckily they had Logan and Virgil and Janus to fall back on. Without them Remus dreaded to think what might have happened.

They were in a better place mentally now than they had been and they had several coping mechanisms in place that were relatively healthy.

Nothing particularly big happened in the next week or so but there were a few small instances  which did start to add up, causing Remus's stress levels to reach almost breaking point.

They felt frustrated and ashamed that such tiny things could effect them so much and though they tried their best to ignore the minor inconveniences they started to pile up.

It started with a simple thing. Remus's parents suddenly started to buy a different brand of soft drink than usual due to price which was all well and good but Remus was used to the other one, the cheaper one tasted Wrong and Different and they felt slightly on edge.

The next thing was bigger and pissed Remus off a considerable amount. Their mother was already wrapping things for Christmas for their two youngest brothers and she had as always gone overboard with three black sacks full of wrapped gifts which she then handed to Remus.

"Wait what?" Remus asked, having zoned out midway through the conversation and making their mother huff in annoyance.

"I said go put these in your room somewhere Patton won't find them."

"But I don't have anywhere to put them!" Remus exclaimed indignantly and frowned as their mother raised her voice angrily.

"Where else do you suggest they be put? There's no room in mine and your dads room, Romans room also has no room and they can't stay down here. Just clear up some of the junk in your room and you'll have plenty of room."

Remus growled and muttered under their breath and reluctantly dragged the bags up to their room where they turned in circles in a frustrated moment of panic as they struggled to figure out where they could put them.

Despite what their mother had said they didn't actually have much room and while their room wasn't spotless it wasn't a complete mess like both parents liked to claim, it was just a very lived in space.

Eventually Remus ended up shoving the bags down the end of their bed and decided that if Patton saw them when he did his usual thing of bursting into their room then it wasn't their fault.

Still the bags at the end of their bed made them feel restless, the unfamiliar objects invading what they had considered their safe space but even without the bags of presents Remus was struggling to consider their room their safe place with each passing day.

The next change was a very large one. Despite only having it for two years Remus's parents had decided to get a new couch which had thrown Remus into a spiral of thoughts, none of them good. The different couch was larger than their previous ones and meant that when it came time to put the tree up there wouldn't be room where they used to put it, yay another change!

It would have to be put in front of the living room window where it would be very easy for Patton to bump into it and smash the glass decorations.

This thought sent Remus down a dark path of imagining laying in the wreckage of broken glass.

They shook this off and tried their best to stay as together as possible.

This worked slightly until the day the new sofa arrived.

Everything was hectic and there was lots of shouting from both parents which resulted in Remus falling back on an old coping mechanism.

To avoid breaking down in front of either parent Remus shut off their emotions. Or at least enough of them so they didn't end up crying.

The issue with this particular coping mechanism was Remus found it difficult to go back to 'normal' so to speak.

They were sort of glad that they were still able to block their emotions when their help was demanded with the tree.

The various decorations their mother had collected over the years usually would cause a torrent of various emotions but they remained rather unaffected through the whole process.

The snide comments and little digs barely registered as they monotonously helped decorate the tree.

The final decoration to be placed on the tree was a new one as it was every year due to family tradition. This year however it was a tribute to their mothers mum who'd died a few months back.

Their mum was instantly in floods of tears and Roman placed a hand on her shoulder, looking close to tears himself.

Remus watched as the decoration was placed on a branch and both clung to each other, teary eyed and sniffing.

Remus blinked a few times to try and escape the numb state they'd managed to get themself in but it was no use.

Their father in a rare moment of understanding gave them a small nudge and then lifted their hand and placed it on their mums shoulder.

They left their hand there for a few seconds before patting awkwardly, completely out of their depth right now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days they found themselves incapable of getting out of bed. They were tired all the time and would drift in and out of sleep throughout the day, only getting up to do housework.

Their thoughts were full of worst case scenario and thoughts of what they'd do if they didn't have Logan and Virgil and Janus.

None of them were good and all their thoughts seemed to have become twisted and dark.

It was reaching a point where even talking to their friends and Logan was becoming difficult.

They knew that isolating themself from such supportive individuals was a bad idea but they couldn't seem to stop. There were no brakes on the self destruct train.

They were managing to refrain from various things but as the month of December progressed they knew it would only get harder.

Tag List under the cut:

General tag list: @mcfreakin-childproof-caps @amethystdarkwolf @patchworkofstars @kitkat-doodles @unikornavenger @dolphin-squirrel @sympathetic-deceit-trash @starryfirefliesbloggo @cakercanart @neonb-fly @kaymischief25 @punsterterry @aprilthevene @theoddkidnextdoor @fuckingemoace @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom @im-so-infinitesimal @sea-blue-child @thecatchat @iris-sanders-athena @saphael-malec102 @smedenn @corkeecoderyt @sopi-montezzz @illogicaldeath @deadpanstar @theanxiousfander @lesliealiceinwonderland @wicked-universe @anxious-is-the-name @a-black-pegasus @erlenmeyertrashofsandersides @ace-the-weekly-doodler @luarpice @novusavis @the-life-ofa-troubled-ace @heck-im-lost @nerdy-as-heck @pansexual-cat @ravens-rambling @echomist13 @myownhappilyeverafter @im-a-sexy-mouse @xx-fandom-potato-xx @bisexualellaphants @redundant-statements-for-400 @noahlovescoffee @akl1 @love-ya-to-the-moon @misty2-0 @cdragontogacotar @shad-ster @chemicallyimbalancedromance @ivescottthis @flag-spinning-demiboy @moonstonefox12 @stupidfangirl107 @teegankitty @stormastrote @skylerskywing @oonagh-una @ab-artist @lydialightwood-bane @remythehero @amberrose80q3 @official-spookifers-child @amazonprimebox

[xan-hast]

“Together to Bloom”- July 3rd 2021

“Wake up; you’re going to be late!” I heard my older sister yell from outside my room. I can’t get up right now; it’s like six o’clock or something. I turned to grab my phone from the counter as I turned it on. Its harsh light beamed my delicate eyes. I blinked, trying to recover from the pain in my eyes. Alas, I looked at the time. It was seven-thirty! I hopped out of bed with no time to waste as the final day of school was here! I couldn’t be late for the last day of school before summer break! I’d worked so hard all year long, not just to waste it all for being late! I rushed, grabbing whatever I could get from inside my closet. I then went inside the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed my comb to fix my hair later in class. I put my phone in my pants right pocket, grabbed my backpack for school, and a granola bar before running through the front house door.

As I locked the front door, I started running to school. First period starts at eight-ten, so I should have about thirty minutes to make it to class since I probably only took ten minutes getting ready. This should be perfect because it takes less than half an hour to get to school. But it’s all estimates right now; I can’t check my phone right now because it’ll just slow down my time. I’ll just wait until I have to cross the street to check my phone.

So far, they’ve all been red lights! I’ve been lucky so far, but that would also mean the drivers aren’t sharing this same luck. I only need to cross the street one more time, and I’ll be at school. I’m praying for a green light because I’ve gotten tons of notifications coming from my phone. I know that I’m not late, but there must be some big news! Maybe Eric’s mom finally let him get the gaming PC he wanted. Or maybe River finally wants to talk about what happened this week. Or Jake (my online friend) finally got the new game we planned to play during the summer! Or maybe Brittany jus-. You know what, I could just keep guessing the endless possibilities. But from the void of possibilities, I really hope it’s River.

As I was approaching Breeze High, I could see students around the entrance of the school building. With the usual people staying outside until classes started, the students already inside, some buses being late, and parents dropping off kids. But I would be a mix of two; I would stay inside sometimes or outside depending on what friend I saw first. This time there wasn’t anyone outside waiting for me. So I would go inside, but I’d rather check who was spamming me with text messages. As I turned on my phone, I saw the top message from Eric saying, “Zachary come to the cafeteria know!” I scrolled through some other text messages, but the top fifteen were from Eric. They’re all the same text with the exact grammar mistake of know instead of now; he must’ve just copied and pasted the text. But I wonder what he would want so urgently. After that was one text message from Brittany saying, “If you can come to the Student Council class really quickly, I have some things to discuss.” I guess Brittany just wants me to help her again. Under her text were two messages from Marcel saying, “Hey Zachary want to meet before first period starts?” “We can meet right outside our class.” Well, now I have to choose between three people. But under Marcel’s text was a message from my mom saying, “Goooood Morning Hun! I hope you have an amazing last day of school! And I remember that you have thirty dollars in your backpack for the Farewell Bloom Festival! Have fun!” How could I have forgotten it was the Bloom Festival today! They even do it every year for the last day of school, but it always passes my mind. Thankfully Mom gave me money. Now I feel even more guilty for not checking hard enough for money for the homeless. But the first text message I got in the morning was again from Eric saying, “Meet me in the cafeteria!” Eric seems like an urgent matter, I could help Brittany after school, I’ll need to buy things for the Bloom Festival, and Marcel just wants to talk. He never wants to talk! I guess things change before summer break starts.

I looked inside my backpack for the money that Mom had given to me. It was located where she’d always put stuff for me. In a little section of the front of the backpack, that was easy to find.

As I walked inside the school, I could see tables spread throughout the hallways. These tables at the front of the school are always the most populated. And it was all in the spirit of Farewell to some and Later to others. The tables, filled with beautiful roses and little cards where you could add a message on them. But for those who weren’t as creative, the cards already had something sweet written. I looked through the hallways trying to find a table that didn’t have so many people. I then stumbled across a hallway filled with tables and the sellers, but no buyers. So I went over to one of the tables and said, “Can I buy five roses and five cards?” But that’s when I noticed the person wasn’t looking at me, but down on the floor. He then said, “That’ll be ten dollars, sir,” as he had his hand out in front of him. I don’t remember it costing this much! But it doesn’t matter because at least I’ll “Bloom a good smile,” which is the motto of the festival. I then placed the only two five-dollar bills I had on his hand. He swiftly took the money and said, “Thank you.” As he grabbed the roses behind him and the cards on the table, he continued, “Here are your roses and cards.” “Thank you,” I said as I left. I don’t really know who that was because they didn’t show their face, but they did it so well.

Now on who to go to; Eric or Marcel. They’re both amazing friends of mine, but technically Eric messaged me first. So I’ll quickly see what Eric needs and then go talk to Marcel. Sounds like a game plan; hopefully, it doesn’t backfire!

As I went inside the cafeteria (which was near the middle half of the school), I saw it near empty. From all the tables, only one had students- Dillion, Rivier, and Eric. They seemed to be talking; maybe I should just leave them alone. River and I aren’t on good terms. As I turned around to leave the cafeteria, I heard someone yell, “Watch out!” I looked back and noticed that Amy (the vice principal of Student Council) and Gregory had bumped into each other creating a mess around them of red roses. I walked over to help the two as everyone else was just watching.

As I went to pick up a rose, Amy said, “You don’t have to help Zachary. If anything, Gregory over here should be helping!” With a strict emphasis on Gregory’s name. As I stood back up, I saw that Amy was looking at Gregory with a strict look; Gregory was looking away and seemed like he’d run away any second. I then responded to Amy, a calm look and tone, “It really is okay. I can help out. But remember not to be so harsh on your tone,” as I handed her a rose I picked up. Amy grabbed the rose I handed to her and continued to pick up the other roses. Gregory looked up at me and nodded his head as if he said, “Thank you.” I then handed him one of my own roses and the card attached. He then approached Amy with the rose and card. Amy turned to him and grabbed the rose in a more calming way. I guess my work here is done. Now to go find Marce-.

I then felt a slight tap on my shoulder, I looked back and saw Eric. “Zachary, where’ve you been! I’ve tried texting, but nothing! You’re so late! Anyways, come and have a seat,” Eric said as he pointed at the table River was sitting at. Before I could say anything, he was already walking me to the table.

River seemed to be on his phone and didn’t look up. Eric then sat me down across from River. Eric tapped his shoulder, and in an instant, River looked up. We made eye contact which felt like my own eternity until he said, “What are you doing here Zachary!” He then turned to Eric and said, “You promised we were only going to talk! Not Zachary'' Seems like I should just go. But before I could leave and before Eric could say something, River already left running. Eric then said to me, “Sorry, I thought this would help you two.” I responded, “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.” Before I could give Eric a rose and card, he’d already left running after River. I got up from the blue table I was sitting at and started walking to English class to talk to Marcel.

How did I mess up so badly with River? It all started on a very blue Monday, just after lunch. As I was walking to the Student Council class, River came up to me with tears. He said the exact words, “It’s over! I can’t believe I could even trust you!” And he ran off without another word. I was shocked at what had happened, I looked over to see people whispering at their blue lockers. Eyes from all directions made me question what I did. It was later that day when Eric came up to me to talk about it. A rumor, breaking the forever bond that I had with River. It was finally found out that River and I had been dating. River and I had already been dating for almost the whole school year, but his parents weren’t as supportive. On that day, River and I faked breaking up, it was like a little bump in the road. Luckily no one from the school noticed that we were dating as we had just been dating for a month. But during that same day, I promised to never tell another soul that we were dating. That once it was all over, we’d live the life we imagined.

Now, the whole school knew, but the thing is that I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Eric! Actually, the only person that I did tell was Jake. He was extremely supportive of how I found out my true self so fast and young. And Jake doesn’t have any way to contact anyone at this school except for me since he lives in New York. I don’t know how this person found out or why they would spread it, but it does hurt to see him gone.

I tried explaining to River, but he doesn’t answer any of my texts or calls. Even at school, he wouldn’t talk to me all week. But I guess he was talking to Eric for comfort. My biggest concern is how hurt is he. Especially with this school spreading this rumor outside of school and onto social media. I know that by now, his family must’ve seen the rumor. I just wish I could talk to him and tell him the trut-.

“You okay, Zachory?” I looked over and saw it was Mr. Johns, the English teacher. I then said, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little lost in my thoughts.” “Well, Mr. Lost, you’re late for my class. The bell rang. But since it is the last day and I’m running a little late, it’s okay.” Wait, the bell has already rung! That means I wasn’t able to talk to Marcel! I’m just lucky that Mr. Johns is giving me a break. As I walked into class with Mr. Jones, I saw Marcel laying down his head on his desk.

“So it’s just a free day today. I’d be happy to sign your yearbook. If you need to go outside, just ask,” Mr. Johns said. He then sat down at his desk and started reading his book. First, let me write something on these little cards. On this first card, it had a hand’s palm on the front. I opened it and it read, “I’m a friend that’ll always help.” On the bottom, I added with a pen, “We can talk now?” Which was specifically for Marcel. I then brought all the roses with me to talk to Marcel. As I tapped his shoulder, he looked up with a face of concern. I then said, “Sorry, abo-.” “Can we go outside?” Marcel asked while interrupting me. I then walked over to Mr. Johns’ desk. I then tapped his desk and he looked up from his book. I then asked, “Is it okay if Marcel and I go outside?” He looked over at the clock and said, “Yeah sure. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

I walked over to Marcel and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me, and we left the classroom. As we did, Marcel said, “So I finally learned how to use my phone for more than just sending messages.” “Oh, that’s good,” I added. He continued with a sad tone, “Yeah, but I saw this post thingy on social media, and it was all about you and River… is it true?” Wait, Marcel didn’t know this whole time! He doesn’t talk to too many people, but even for him, it’s kind of much. I then responded with a soft tone, “The rumor about River and I is true. We were dating, but I never told anyone.” He then responded, “It’s okay. The post went into deep detail about the rumor. I just wanted to tell you, but I guess you already knew.” I then concernedly asked, “Actually, it all started on Monday; haven’t you heard or seen anything about River and me?” “No. I’m not that big on rumors or anything. But you should’ve told me. I wanted to help,” he added. “Well thank you. And before I forget,” I said as I handed him the rose attached with the card, “here is your rose!” Marcel then said, “Aw, thank you. Let me check the card.” Wait, the card just has-. Marcel then giggled, “Well, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I?” I quickly responded, “Yes, but I was supposed to give you that before we talked.” Marcel giggled again and said, “Well, we should get to class now. Just remember I’m always here to talk.” We entered the classroom, Marcel, with a rose, and I had my three roses left.

As the bell rang, Mrs. Jenkins said, “Have an amazing break, everyone!” That’s fourth period done. I just need to get through lunch, fifth period, and sixth period then I’m free from school. I sadly don’t have any of the classes with Eric at all. And for the last two periods, I don’t have any close friends. So lunch is going to be a good time to talk to someone; I hope River and I can discuss. I also still have these three roses.

As I walked into the cafeteria, I didn’t see Eric, Marcel, Brittany, or River. Where is everyone, it’s not like I’m early for lunch. As I was about to look around, I saw Dillon and Gregory talking to each other. I walked over to their table and before I could sit down, Gregory stood up and said, “Can I talk to you real quick?” “Yeah, sure.”

Gregory then took me to an empty hallway where he finally spoke up, “All I wanted to say was… thank you.” In shock, I said, “Oh, you’re wel-.” But before I could finish, he’d already left. I didn’t even notice he left so fast! I guess I helped him; it’s something to lift my spirit. And right now, it helped more than he could imagine.

As I was finally leaving sixth period, I noticed that some left a book on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it was Quincy’s notebook! Quincy is one of the top students in the school, he’d never just leave his notebook on purpose! I need to go find him in this avalanche of people in the halls! But I think Quincy always goes to Ms. Berkeley’s class before leaving school. So I should find him there!

As I finally made it out of the avalanche of students, I noticed someone sitting down in the middle of the hallway. As I approached them, I noticed it was Quincy! You could tell from his light gold hair, skinny pants, and back shirt. As I got closer, I heard him sobbing! As I was next to him, I said, “You left your notebook in class and ar-.” He then interrupted with loud sobs, “Thank you,” as he looked up at me, his face turned pale, he continued, “oh don’t look at me, Zachary.” He then grabbed the notebook from my hands and went in the same position. I then sat next to him and said, “I’m here to talk if you want?” “What, so you can just tell the whole school!” he said with an angry tone. “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I heard the rumor,” he said with big sobs. I then took a deep breath and said, “Quincy, do you really think I would do that to my boyfriend?” He quietly said, “No.” “Exactly, there was just someone that told everyone. I’m in a rough state, but I still want to help you.” He then said, “But we’ve never even talked outside of school.” I then handed him a rose, he looked up and had a brief smile. He then read out loud the card, “It’s never too late to start things.” Then his brief smile turned into a blooming smile. He added, “What is this some kind of proposal?” I then said, “A proposal to become your friend.” He looked over at me and said, “Thank you, this really did help. It’s just that my girlfriend broke up with me. So I guess we kind of share a memory. I hope everything goes well for you. And thank you again for this and my notebook.” But before I could say something, he handed me a little note from his pocket. As he handed it to me, he said, “This is my phone number, maybe we can talk during the summer?” As I grabbed the piece of paper, I said, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to text you when I get home.” He stood up, and we departed ways, Quincy to Ms. Berkeley’s room while I was going to leave school.

As I was walking out of Breeze high for the last time this school year, I saw Eric running towards me. As he was running, he yelled, “Zachary! You really need to go talk to River!” Once he was in front of me, he was out of breath but trying to say something. I then said, “First catch your breath and then you can tell me.” After a few seconds of Eric panting, he then said, “I really messed up with you and River today. You need to talk to him. I’m so sorry, but you might be the only person to make him happy.” I then calmly said, “It’s not your fault at all Eric. Than-. Actually,” I then grabbed from my backpack one of the last roses and continued, “this is your rose. The card will do the talking.” As he took the rose from my hand, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Zachary. Also, River by Café Venteux.” Eric’s French has gotten so good! Even if it’s his third year in French class. “Okay, bye! Talk to you later!” I then left running towards the café.

As I made it near the café, I didn’t see River. But I saw the same homeless man in the morning outside the café. I walked towards him and he said, “Hey again, I hope you have a nice day.” I then searched in my left pocket for the twenty-dollar bill that mom gave me. Once I touched it, I said, “I actually got something for you,” as he looked up, I handed over the twenty dollars. He then smiled with great joy, saying, “Thank you! May God bless you!” He then went inside the café. As my eyes followed him, I saw River at the far end of the café.

As I walked inside the café, it made its little jingle. I walked over to where River was sitting and took a seat across from him. He didn’t look up until I tapped his shoulder. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood up. But before he could run away again, I stopped him. He was weaker now, not like usual, so I was easily about to sit him down on one of the wooden booths. I then sat next to him.

Before I could talk, he sobbingly said, “Why would you do that?” I then quickly responded, “I would never do that. I hope you can understand that I didn’t tell anyone about our relationship.” He responded, “Then how did people know! How come I got hurt!” He’s deeply hurt. “River, I want you to remember who I am. I never would do such a thing. I love you with all my heart. I just,” I started to tear, “I just don’t want it to be over a rumor someone started.” River then hugged me; I hugged back. I then let go with my left hand to grab my last rose. As I did, River looked up at me. As I handed him the bruised, color fading, few pedaled rose, I said, “I don’t ever want to lose you. Let us get through this together.”

[heckinhacker]

True Damage!Yasuo x reader - I’m glad you’re evil too.

A/N: I was inspired by Ashe's cover of “I'm glad you're evil too” and I absolutely loved it. Here goes nothing! There might be some errors, I’ve read it many times and can’t find anything anymore, but can happen. Sorry.

word count: 6,311 requested: no. warnings: Cursing, as in most of my posts. Welp~!^^ + It can be messy, I never wrote a long fic and english is being hard for me :(

Yasuo loved music since forever, and knew he was talented himself. Everyone around him praised him if he had shown them his own beats. He was DJ for every school party hosted, even volunteered to be on his own prom night, but everyone said he’s fine to go and party for once. 

He didn’t want to party, nor to dance.  He wanted to be behind the laughs and screams, making it fun for others.  He knew that he wasn’t very social. I mean, he was friendly, sometimes flirty, but social? He prefered reading mangas, watching animes and making music, this was all he wanted.

And that’s how the popular DJ works alone since forever. Loner genius who was out of reach for most of musicians. No one was worthy working with him. One didn’t had enough passion, other just wasn’t it. And he searched for something. 

Musical something was found with a rise of “Giants”, or so called “True Damage” group. They had something he searched in music, but why he still felt empty? 

Ekko and girls always asked him out: -After-party maybe, Yas? - Akali smiles while bending down a little to make that ‘sneaky-happy’ pose. - As if, I had some beat idea I need to work on, Akali. - he gives her a hand with a motion of ‘stop’ while saying no. And some other time: - Yo, bro, you up for a drink after recording? - Ekko stopped him before he went off for his break. - You can manage without me, Ekko. You have fun anyway. - murmured long haired man, avoiding eye contact. And another after some: - Don’t act all cold and mysterious, ninja, while you’re drooling over some drawn big-eyed girls and come on, you have nothing better to do! - huffed Qiyana, crossing her arms on chest. - Thanks for your not-asked-for opinion, princess. - and he added nothing more. That lasted, and the longer he avoided friendly meetings, Senna tried to talk up: - I’m worried about you, Yasuo. Want to take a walk? - you could feel her concern only by looking her into eyes. That’s kind of her, but... - Thank you, Senna, but you have bigger problems than my own on your head. How is your husband, by the way? - he didn’t meant to be rude, and Senna understood. - Lucian’s fine, he’d appreciate you asking, even though you talked only once. And you’re never a problem, remember. He only waved her away, heading to home, to do his own  things. He prefered it that way, or so he thought. 

With time, things he enjoyed stopped meaning anything. For example, which hurt him the most: He was so enthusiastic for Star Guardian series, but damn it, he stopped feeling happiness with every single update from mangaka. It hurt. He knew something was off, so he thought he’ll find himself correspondence buddy. Join some group connected to the series, noone will know he’s popular and will chat about Guardians as he’d love someone to and that’s what he did! TheUnforgiven01: hi. TheUnforgiven01: i’ll let myself into convo, if that’s fine. ezpezlemonsquez: That’s what that chat is for, of course! We were just discussing which group was better in many aspects, then compared aspect to the other. TheUnforgiven01: sounds fun, i guess? but it’s obvious ahri team’s better, they had more morality about disappearing, and ahri as the leader took a step of redemption for her stars, nothing to even try to compare to. [nick]: Oh okay. Your opinion is valid but actually is not. 

Yasuo raised his brow. Oh, someone’s mad? “Valid”, he’s mad now too. 

TheUnforgiven01: and that means? i’m right and you’re not, i suppose. you’re mad abt it? [nick]: Okay, Unforgiven, listen to me now. I am longer in this group and always argued morally about everything, but plain and stupid, unexplained opinions of stubborn kids like you just piss me off. What if someone find staying by rules more morally-right, huh? Ever consider that? TheUnforgiven01: if you’d like to die just because you were chosen by some glitter and glory of first star then fine, but some weren’t, they were normal teenagers under disguise, what about their families? ezpezlemonsquez: Guys, you’re starting to fight and it’s not cool, can you chill?? [nick]: They knew about the risk by agreeing! Being chosen is one, but agreeing is their own fucking choice!!!  TheUnforgiven01: and YOU’D be fine with dying, [nick] ? [nick]: Of course not! But anyone can die while saving the world, not because of losing a light, you know? If not that, there is the risk of being corrupted, like Xayah and Rakan, isn’t that right?? TheUnforgiven01: and it hurt, but they can be saved, and by dying officially you cannot do shit about it, yeah?  ShiningBrightTonite: If you won’t stop acting up I’ll have to mute you both until tomorrow, keep it down! TU, you just joined and make a fight right away, can you give me a reason to let you stay?

Yasuo’s hands twitched. He ALMOST dissed admin, and that would be it, poof and no corresponding buddy for him. He sighed deeply, took himself some longer moments and only typed. TheUnforgiven01: sorry. i’ll join next discussion and be all innocent and sweet, like newborn baby. [nick]: Newborns are wrinkly and ugly.  ShiningBrightTonite: [nick] !! [nick]: Just saying. TheUnforgiven01: aight, ama head out. 

~TheUnforgiven01 has left the chat~

That was it for today. 

Yasuo just took a quick shower, ate one sandwich and went to sleep, while blasting music on his headphones. Way to deal with his nerves.

About your side…

Generally you’re the angel of this community, you’re always passionate and calm about others opinion, but this dude just pressed the wrong button by his like...third message? No one saw you this mad, and this group had many dramas which YOU were most of the times reason to stop, but now? Some admins laughed about that in admin chatroom with you about it, but let you be with a slight warning, friendly nudge on the arm with ‘don’t do that next time, he’s new and doesn’t know how to hang on things, ya kno?’ So you went with it. Even decided to apolagize to this dude in pm. The question was: today or tomorrow? Tomorrow sound more appealing, but if you do it now, you won’t have to do that tomorrow, so it’s now. You sighed deeply, it’s been an hour and a half, so you hoped he’s cooled down too. 

[nick]: Sorry to bother you in your “private message” zone, but I thought about all this situation and I’m sorry for how I acted, really? Not like all fault was mine, we both know that, it’s just...I shouldn’t had curse and stuff. I’m not generally bad, I hope you don’t hold any grudge to me. We’ll chat on a group, ye? 

…

And no answer. Maybe he is that furious? You sure hoped he wasn’t. Or she. Or anyone that was. With a heavy sigh you stood up, got yourself warm cup of tea to chill a little bit more. You’ll go to sleep...eventually. 

By sleep you mean passing out on your desk, face down. Your poor arms...and back...it’ll hurt, that’s for sure. Watching Netflix till late was a bad idea. Good thing it’s weekend, right? Your day of freedom from responsibilities! 

What time is it…?

You locked your eyes on your room’s clock which was 6 minutes late from time but you’re too lazy to fix that. It was - according to your always late clock - 01:06 pm. You still felt sleepy, but it’ll be fine, right? Slowly, you rubbed your wake-up tears from your eyes and looked at screen in front of you. A few pings from group chat from admin role and one private message. Huh, neat, time to eat- hold on, wait a minute. Private message? You sat up straightly and clicked on it right away. This is this unforgiven fella! After you wrote this short message you grinned weakly and went off of your room to wake up properly.

TheUnforgiven01: no problem, it’s nice how you defend what you believe in.  TheUnforgiven01: am sorry too.  TheUnforgiven01: not sure if i am good at chatting in group, but we always can hit each other up here? TheUnforgiven01: if you want to TheUnforgiven01: and i didn’t mean to sound weird TheUnforgiven01: ah whatever, answer here if you want or not, bye.

You made yourself your favourite breakfast, ate and thought about this little spam that person did. Kinda cute, maybe they’re self-concious, and joining chatting group was overhelming? You’ll answer after refreshing cup of [coffee/tea/hot chocolate], you promised yourself. You never write to anyone before morning cup. To summarize  your morning routine, the hot drink had to be in your now favourite cup. Earlier one got shattered into pieces by your unaware of consequences cat. You weren’t mad at it, but at yourself for leaving the cup on windowsill instead of hiding it properly. That kind of sad event for you made you buy this cup from that new music group you enjoyed listening to. True Damage, wasn’t it? You never liked rap, but this boy Ekko nailed stuff. You loved everyone equally in this group, but never understood that long-haired, masked (you assumed) asian man and his influence. He was there, maybe he made the music in the background, compositor? He seemed too mysterious for you, but meh. He fit group’s aesthetic, and you were sure he had his place in there, and it’s fine. Maybe you figure it out once you see them live, since, what a shocker, they had a tour around the world and were not only in your country, but in your town too! They'll be here in like… 6 months from now? You can't wait! Bonus to that: No long trip ahead of you, just buying tickets and going, you were hyped for that.

Meanwhile this waterfall of thoughts you managed to drink and eat everything, and as responsible as you can get, you washed the dishes right away, going back to your PC to answer this maybe-shy fella.

[nick]: Didn’t figured you’d like to talk ‘privately’, but whatever floats your boat ;)  TheUnforgiven01: i changed my mind, don’t write to me again. [nick]: Hey, hey! I was just joking around, don’t be like that! :(( TheUnforgiven01: i am unforgiven, and you are too in this situation. TheUnforgiven01: i honestly joined to make one friend in this group and leave TheUnforgiven01: and didn’t got any chance of meeting anyone else but you TheUnforgiven01: and you wrote to me first into priv, so that’s the start. TheUnforgiven01: can it stay like that?  TheUnforgiven01: if we won’t like each other it’s chill to just say oficial bye and stop, just sayin. [nick]: As for someone who types so fast you don’t make that much of typos, isn’t that amazing?  TheUnforgiven01: maubie. TheUnforgiven01: maybe* TheUnforgiven01: fuck you just jinxed it. 

You genuely laughed by this little mistake, you didn’t saw that coming and it amused you. You weren’t much of a talkative person yourself, but writing to someone, not seeing their face and such was much easier. And consequences of making yourself of a fool are much smaller than knowing someone from the same - let’s assume - town. [nick]: I’m sorry I did, but the moment I picked to say that was funny, wasn’t it? Nothing to be ashamed off, it often happens to me too! TheUnforgiven01: didn’t saw you make a typo yet. [nick]: Because I’m giving way too much attention not to do a typo since I want to make a good impression on you. Sounds good? TheUnforgiven01: … TheUnforgiven01: sounds good, relatable actually. 

Well, now at least you know you’re stuck in the same situation. 

And that awkward situation was two weeks ago. 

Now? Now you’re talking daily. From all you know, your, as he called it - corresponding buddy - is a very busy he. He didn’t revealed his real name, which you assumed that he’s embarassed about it. You told him what you’re doing in life generally, while he just said he’s normal, let me quote: “big-ass adult who lives with parents but work in some fast-food, at least i’m trying.” which was cool for you, at least he didn’t lock himself in his parents’ basement. Unforgiven was a chill dude and at the beginning you thought he’d only hit you up with Star Guardian topics, but later? You started talking about yourselves, about other interests. 

[nick]: Hey? [nick]: I assume you’re busy today, again… [nick]: I was wondering, what are you busy with? I mean, you said you work on some fast-food place, then sit in your room, are you gaming? I’d understand that, I was just...thinking. [nick]: Sorry if I seem pushy, it’s just that I really grew on chatting with you and was wondering when are you free again! Heh.  [nick]: We’ll talk later, then, hit me up when you can!

You pushed yourself back on your chair, groaning. You totally were pushy, but didn’t meant to - that’s what you thought, but it’s totally normal, you’re just interested with someone you just met. You chatted with a lot of persons in the group, etc. but no one had your interest pointed directly at them, that’s a big something. You kinda felt like you’re opening too fast for him too, and you had no clue if that’s ok. You cover your eyes with hands, overthinking your situation with unnamed male. When your thoughts started to be not too pleasant you heard your communicator's sound going off. As fast as you pushed yourself back, you were that fast in front of your PC. 

TheUnforgiven01: i have a break now.  TheUnforgiven01: i'm sorry [nick], I am not ignoring you on purpose.  TheUnforgiven01: i enjoy talking to you too, don't ever think oterwide  TheUnforgiven01: otherwise* TheUnforgiven01: we'll talk about that later.  TheUnforgiven01: now, how are you? i hope i didn't made you sad.  [nick]: No, no! It's OK! I understand you have a real life too, I assume a real life friends too. That's normal, that's okay.  TheUnforgiven01: i like you. i can consider you as my friend, but.  [nick]: But?  TheUnforgiven01: but you should not consider me as yours.  [nick]: What t? Why?/?? / TheUnforgiven01: my break's over, i gtg. i'll catch you later.  [nick]: Okay, later! 

Your hands twitched uncontrollably after that weird message. What did he mean? You're his friend but he's not yours? It kinda worried you, but you went to do your stuff until he has time to talk. Maybe it sounds cliché but you wait impatiently until he starts a chat with you and you know each other for only two weeks. 

It made you worry about your friend. Maybe he has some troubles you don't know about for sure? You only had to hope it's not gang involved. You were sure to later tell a few words to him. 

You ate out with one of your friends, just to eat, chill around. As you weren't sure what to do generally about "unforgiven situation", you decided to ask her:  - Uh,  it's kinda awkward, but can I ask you for advice? -  you ask.   - Oh of course! What's going inside of your pretty little head?   - So I met someone on my group-  - Nerd group? -  she interrupted.   - Yeah, that one. -  you admitted with defeat. Honestly, no matter what you say, she still keeps on going with nerd club. -  And there was that guy, he started arguing with me. Later we apologized to each other and now we're chatting for two weeks everyday, but about how much do we write depends if he's free or not. Today he said something odd, have a look. 

You moved your phone so your friend can see mysterious message from Unforgiven. She sighed and then looked at you with that pity look of hers.   - What?   - Honey, swettie… you have two options. One: he's really trying to make you think of him. Two: he really means it. You should start off with "I'm worried about you!" and tell him how you really feel.   - Okay. Okay… I just. I don't know what's going on with him.   - Why are you so moved of that? You know each other for only two weeks. Are you… Crushing on him?!?!   - WHAT? Nonononono, you got that wrong, I just want to get to know him! That's all, really!   - Uh-huh! When he's free today, you get him, tiger! Just won't get into any trouble, sweetheart. 

You sighed, then smiled at her, closing your eyes in satisfaction.  You're a lot calmer now.  "Thank you, [friends name].” You said, until you both went back on chatting about everything. 

And when you were back? You dressed yourself to home wearing, sat down comfortably on the couch and checked your phone. Unforgiven actually wrote to you first! And a lot. 

TheUnforgiven01: hey. TheUnforgiven01: sorry I had to go all of sudden, work stuff, had shorter break.  TheUnforgiven01: i don’t want you to think i don't want to get to know you, i do.  TheUnforgiven01: it's just hard for me, ‘n stuff.  TheUnforgiven01: we'll get to it, please give me some time.  TheUnforgiven01: you'll know everything about me in no time, just give me some and we'll be friends, true ones.  TheUnforgiven01: if you'd want to, ofc.  TheUnforgiven01: hit me up when you're back from your little date. 

You gave into every single message a lot of focus. You weren't sure what to say at first, but decided to just go for it. 

[nick]: It's OK! I was worried about you, but if you say I'll get to know all the things about you in time, I'll go with it! But remember this one thing: I consider you as my friend, no matter what. We'll get through your insecurities and secrets, I'll be patiently waiting! 

[nick]: And it was NOT a DATE. I was out with my friend!! >:( TheUnforgiven01: yeah, sure, you playa. TheUnforgiven01: better be good.  [nick]: Very funny!  TheUnforgiven01: for me it is.  [nick]: Aren't you tired after work? You don't want to sleep?  TheUnforgiven01: i thought you genuinely missed me, buy you want me out right now.  TheUnforgiven01: now i'm sad.  [nick]: It's not like that! I'm just worried about you, goofball.  TheUnforgiven01: sure, explain yourself even more. TheUnforgiven01: only guilty explain themselves.  [nick]: Come on!! D: TheUnforgiven01: i can chat for a bit and then go. 

You chatted and chatted, slowly getting to know his character, but he still remained as Unforgiven, unnamed boy you slowly, but in agony, fell for. It's been three months from your first encounter. 

You wonder how are you going to ask him about a next step in your friendship. It is, indeed, hard. Good question is why are you the first to ask? It almost hurt imagining yourself with blank space, nor even voice known to begin with. You fell hard for dude you only know behind Unforgiven, and wanted to hear his voice. You were ready for him to decline, but you won't know without trying. 

He said he'll be back pretty late today, and he may not write, but he left you a warning pretty early in the morning. You weren't sure why did he woke up so early, but you just shrugged it, saying that he must be in some other time zone. You didn't even knew where he is from, this man is a big mystery for you.

You waited for him to come back in your bed, before sleeping.  You had to ask that question now or never, you know if you'll put it for tomorrow you want do that anytime soon. It has to be done. It was 2am now and your eyelids were getting heavy. Reading books or literally anything wasn't helping at all, and when your body demands rest. You almost drifted to sleep, but then

Ding! 

It was him, before sleep you assumed. No matter what you did you always wrote to each other, even stupid "goodnight for later, I'm going to sleep now, be sure to rest enough." was there. 

Your eyes were wide open and you moved your hand to the phone way too fast as for almost sleeping person. 

TheUnforgiven01: hey.  TheUnforgiven01: i'm aftwr work TheUnforgiven01: i am really tires ya kno TheUnforgiven01: fuck typos in lsrticilar  [nick]: Particular?  TheUnforgiven01: you're not asleep yet? damn  [nick]: I was kinda waiting for you, you know?  TheUnforgiven01: oh really? what's the occasion? [nick]: It's… I have a question for you.  TheUnforgiven01: aight, give me your shot.  [nick]: Would you like to… agh it's stupid.  TheUnforgiven01: no, go ahead.  [nick]: We write with each other for a while now and I was wondering if…  [nick]: If you'd like to make a phone call, maybe? Or, voice call, anything really? No personal questions, just five minute chatting about anything. Promise? 

Yasuo hesitated for a longer bit. Should he agree? He don't use his voice in his recordings, so maybe he should? He treats this person like someone close, so why should he avoid them like a plague? He saw little mark above chat window which suggested you furiously were typing. He sighed, smiling softly to his phone's screen. 

TheUnforgiven01: it's alright,don't worry.  TheUnforgiven01: we can chat a bit.  TheUnforgiven01: we can call here, you know. for you to avoid any additional payment. 

You sigh with relief. Okay, he did agree. What now?? Holy shit. You were more than nervous. You didn't saw that coming and because of all of this you forgot to answer him. You almost jumped when you got another message. 

TheUnforgiven01: i'll call first, since i see you're nervous.  TheUnforgiven01: i'll hit you up in 5 min. answer me by then. 

It maybe was stupid, but you checked yourself in the mirror, almost like before date. You fixed your hair, checked if nothing was stuck between your teeth, wash your face, and your time slipped between your fingers, your phone was ringing with typical for your communicator song. You jumped, then panicked, then jumped beside your phone and slowly answered your call before it ended sending a signal.

- H...hello? - your voice croaked out of nervousness. You mentally slapped your forehead, classical facepalm. - Hi. - you heard calm voice with that tune of tiredness, that little growl at the end. His voice was soft, warm, pleasant. You smiled right away. - Damn, you sound so chilled out while I am...wow. I am a blushing mess right now, I wanted this but don’t know what to say to you! Like, wow!   - Maybe start with how was your day? I’d love to hear that. - that was just an excuse, but you didn’t knew that.  - Oh...kay. It was fine. Boring, to be honest. Woke up, drank [tea/coffee/hot chocolate] from this True Damage cup I once told you about, went out, made my boring everyday routine, was thinking how I should ask you about talking, then went back home, bored my ass off on some documentaries and here we are, talking!  - Sounds fun. - he commented shortly. Even if it might sound like he doesn’t care, you understood that he just was like that. That stupid feeling.  - Maybe you’ll tell me something you did today? - Something I’d love to do, but I must avoid that. Not today, [nick]. - Call me [y/n], okay? That’s my real name. You don’t have to tell me yours! I’d like you to call me [y/n] though. - That’s a nice name. Like the sound of it. - his goddamn voice will be the end of yours. You sighed loudly with this goofy smile. - Thank you so much. So, if not the day, tell me something you actually can share. - I was thinking about you today. - he shot these words right through your heart.  - O-Oh? Re-really? - you stuttered, hating yourself for that.  - Heheh, yeah. - he chuckled, making you forget about hating your stutter since it made him laugh in this tone. This goddamn tone. - Was thinking if you were alright. And because your pathetic ass was distracting me from work, my boss forced me to go on break! Used it to smoke, but none then less, thanks. - Hey, your bad for wandering off in work! And quit smoking, dumbass! - you scolded him, ending this “”very serious”” scold with a laugh, which Yasuo answered with louder, honest laugh. You were all red by now. - God, it’s good talking to you. Let’s do that more often. Not every day, but...you know. More often. - O-okay. Okay, sure. Cool. - you answered,trying to kill this little squeal in your throat. - I’ll have to go to sleep, [y/n]. Sleep well, ok? - No promise, but you have a rest. Thank you, again. For agreeing. - Heh. No problem, I am glad I did agree too. Sleep tight. - another chuckle, then hanging up sound.

Well, what can I say. This was the most emotion-forcing call you ever had. He wished you good night, you had trouble falling asleep. 

Generally speaking, you had a talk like that once in three days. The big day of concert was coming, so you decided to ask Unforgiven if he is interested in coming too. You’re searching for a chance of meeting him in real life. 

Yasuo expected from incoming call anything but question what was awaiting him. He was having a flight with a band to [town’s name] in next three days, so he had to tell you he can’t really talk as you both always do. When he heard a communicator’s song, he pressed answer button right away, smiling to his phone like you could see he’s happy to see you. - Hewwo? - he answered in very forced squeaky voice, which made you erupt with laughter. - Hey, goofball. How was your day? - Lazy. Was distracted a lot, I was waiting for out call before sleep. So, what’s new? - Today was okay’ish, you know? I’m not even that tired. Maybe being excited makes me go cray-cray.  - Psh, good. - he looked at himself in the mirror, seeing how wide his smile was. Almost concerning.  - Hey, dude? - Hm?  - Are you...by any chance, going to see True Damage in [Town’s name]? I never asked you about your music taste but I was wondering. Wondering that if you’d be here...maybe we’ll meet? ‘Cuz, you know. I’ll be here.  - I- - his voice was stuck in his throat. Oh. Shit. Fuckfuckfuck. Not good. What now?  -...you? Are you okay?  - Ahm- yes, it’s just that. You’re...hella right. I will be there.  - OH REALLY? - you asked unecessarly too loud, then cleared your throat. - A-and...you’d like to meet?  - Uhhh… - fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck -  Yeah. Sure. I’d love to finally see you. Can you imagine this feeling? We don’t know how we look, so finding each other would be insane, but can you imagine the result?  - Me, asking some random dudes “Hey, are you Unforgiven?” ? No, let’s send each other selfies, maybe? - Nah, I’d love to see you embarrass yourself. - HEY!  - Okay, okay. I promise we’ll find each other. I won’t go home until we do. - Promise you won’t leave me out? - Promise.  - Thank you. I’ll go to sleep, so we’ll catch up later, ok? By- he cut you out. - Wait, [y/n]. I have to tell you something real quick.  - Yeah? - you pulled your phone back to ear. - I won’t be too available around these days. But at the day of concert I’ll call you in the morning. I won’t be in any reach of connection, I hope you understand. - Uh..okay. Thank you for telling me. Good night, sleep tight. - ‘Night. 

You hung up. It’s alright, it’s ok. Nothing to sweat. You’ll only meet your crush in three days only. 

OKAY NEVERMIND IT IS AMAZING. You - thankfully - fell asleep pretty fastly. 

To be fair, these three days? Were going through slow in agonizing way, but when the day of concert hit up, your heart was racing since you woke up. You had that five minute talk with Unforgiven, as he promised, assuring you that he is going to be there for sure. After you hung up, you started preparing yourself! You wore your best clothes, made sure you look stunning but not too overrated and just dived into it! You gladly told your friend you’re meeting your crush, informing her with that she’s not forced to go see True Damage with you anymore. She was more of Pentakill person, and it was alright. She wanted to go along since she knew how “un-funny” would it be without her, but you knew her real motive was you not feeling alone. So when she acknowledged that you’re not going to be alone, she said she’s glad she doesn’t have to listen to Ekko and Qiyana’s rapping. Well, good noone is forced.

At first,you wanted to find Unforgiven right away, but gave up and focused on music experience. You wanted to be there beside him, but well, maybe he lost connection again and couldn’t hit you up. And you had hell of a fun in there! But somewhere deep inside you were worried that he just tricked you and will never show up or tell you where he is exactly. 

True Damage’s crew said final goodbyes and after some stumbles, it was quiet on stage. Everyone kept cheering or talking, sometimes screaming unecessarly. Still, not a single sight of Unforgiven. Well, at least you got to know what this long haired guy was doing in the crew. Epic T-pose and manipulated music with this sword looking thingy. Amazing effects. You decided to find yourself sitting place somewhere, staring at your phone screen. No message, no missed calls, not anything. It made you sad, that’s true, but maybe he’ll catch up? You waited. And waited.

And waited.

And the more you waited, the more you felt tears getting into your eyes. You were ready to burst into sobbing mess, but then your phone rang. This stupid communicator song. You answered up right away with little sniff” - Where the hell are you? You said that- - I know, [y/n]. I am here, let me instruct you where I am right now. Where are you? - You should be one searching for me, you know? I almost thought you weren’t coming, what’s up with that? - you unintentionally raised your voice, letting out a sob meanwhile that. Yasuo felt so bad now. - Listen...I’ll tell you everything. Everything will be explained when you’ll see me. I hope you’ll forgive me. If not, it’ll be this “official goodbye” moment, can you trust me this one last time? - ...fuck. Fuck, okay. I am on the bench close to food truck. You? - Stand up then, go to the barriers understage.  - Understage…? Alrigt, wh-atever you say.

You blindly went in there, trusting this man “for the last time”, as he said. You’d give him the last chance he’s begging for. You stood here like an idiot, alone with stages lights shining on your face. No one in sight. - I hope you’re not joking… - How would I know where should you go then? - Point...it’s just that- - Shh. It’s ok. You head to the left now if you’re facing the stage. Tell me when you’re done. - … done…? - Okay. now open this little metal gate and get through. - Wha-what?? Why would I? Securities will kick me out if they find out! - They won’t. It’s ok.  -You’re...one of the security guards, right?  - Information when you get there. come on in.  - You were so anxious about this situation. It just seems sketchy. He never revealed any information about him, maybe spread some lies you believed in. Who was this dude now? Was everything you knew a lie? - And? I don’t see anyone. - Are you wearing [your fav. hoodie/flannel/whatever you want it to be!]?  - U-uh? Yeah, and you’re…? - Turn around, goof. I am standing right there. - … - you felt your heart stop, you weren’t able to breathe. You slowly turned around to see noone else than this mysterious japanese DJ you had a chance to see on stage. What- how- that were questions which were going almost like on loop in your head. - Stunned, huh? - he commented into the phone, then took it off of his face and ended call. It confirmed that it was him too - at the same time his phone went dark after single tap, your call ended. 

You didn’t even got to give out bigger reaction. You just met him! Screw that he’s popular and hid his identity from you! For now. You ran into his arms and squeezed him, now sobbing like mad. 

- You FUCKER! You could’ve said ANYTHING! All these secrets, what for! I kinda understand but- FUCK! - you shouted into his shoulder while he squeezed you in almost bone crushing hug. - I’m sorry, ok? - and it was his voice, sounded almost the same. Holy shit. - I’m so, so sorry, [y/n]. But at least I can be honest? - Then please be. Tell me everything you wanted to say. - It’ll be long, trust me, but well. Here goes nothing. - he put his hand on your cheek and clears your face from those tears you shed because of him. - I...wanted to tell you my name after like two weeks. I got worried you’ll find out after we talk some, so I did avoid personal information. While I was at it, I never wanted to lie. About my work and my day. I just lied at the beginning, then regret it deeply, but felt like I couldn’t take that back. [y/n]- fuck- I just- I didn’t wanted to be treated differently. I am popular and most people stop seeing a human in me because I’m a celebrity! It hurt me to avoid you getting to know me - heck, it hurt me to see you avoiding asking me about personal stuff because you understood. I appreciated it, but it hurt you had to remain silent while you were curious as hell, I assume. You wanted to hear me out, treated me like I am just like you, reached out to me. I grew on that, I want… I don't want to lose you. Please, forgive me.  - I… it's… it's okay. I should call you…  - Yasuo. It's Yasuo, [y/n].  - I'll get to know you all over, just be honest with me.  You're still human and I want to be close to you. I… ah. I'll just let it out pleasedon'thateme. I… fell for you. Hard. You were a bug mystery for me but still wanted to be around me. I kept still since you're pretty important to me. Thank you for being there by this 6 months, let's continue whatever we have between each other. Please. 

… 

Yasuo moved his mask down to capture your face between his hands and kissed you, it seemed like a rough start, but kiss was soft, magical. You just smoothed, nibbling on your lips. Yasuo was now thanking you a lot, which you only replied with weak laughs and pats on his back. He promised he'll keep you as close as he can. 

Yasuo had to continue his tour around the world with True Damage, but promised he'll take a lot of day off so he can work up lost time with you. It's been a month and you wait for him almost like wife waiting for her husband's return after military duty. 

Yasuo took two weeks off, but if he'll need more -  it'll be for you to decide. You were spending today inside since it was raining. It was dark outside already, the only source of light was candles in living room. Yasuo was holding you close to himself, moving side to side, swaying gently, adoring your every inch of face. - Lately I found this song on youtube, it was originally from vocaloid.it kind off remind me of us.  - Vocaloid song? You know true meaning of lyrics for sure, tell me about it then!  - I can sing a part of it for you, if you'd want to?  - You can sing?  - Of course! I just don't use it for my songs. Everyone else sing much better, my voice is too…  - Too sexy for the world?  - Hahaha, maybe! Want to check out for sure? I'll sing in English for you.  - Sheesh, what a nerd. Okay, give me your best shot. 

Yasuo took a deep breath in, and made sure before he starts to sing he looks into your eyes. He started like he was unsure, but with time he sang wholeheartedly. 

"Though both of us will die one day

Though this life is useless anyway

When you're here by my side, you make me feel like it'll be okay

And yet we laughed despite it all

At this life which has no meaning at all

Two lonely and broken souls leaning on each other's sides

I'm glad that you're you, that I'm me, and for us two

I'm kinda glad that you're evil too"

While he was pouring his emotion on you, you felt your chest clench and tear up after intensity of his voice, he gave it out truly like he meant it.  You saw he wasn't done, so you tried to remain calm. 

"When the day starts anew, hope I spend it with you-" 

You felt your cheeks burn with your tears pouring down whole you smiled widely at him. He was singing loudly, forgetting about embarrassment. 

"I'm glad that I fell in love with you."

From today, this song made by PinnocchioP was more than important for both of you. It felt like it was especially made for you, and you both loved it. 

[styomi]

Fifteen study dates | 15-day prompt challenge | Sweet Pea/OC | Day 13

AN: These are so close to the finish line… I’m sad to see them end :’) I hope that everyone enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed writing them :D

Info:

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Sweet Pea/OC Rating: T Word count: 1510 Chapter count: 13/15

                                    Debate? Apparently, a turn-on

Riverdale High was very different from South High. To begin with, the meticulous campus and the perks of a more affluent neighborhood area’s school were numerous. Everything worked, for once, much to Sweet Pea’s shock. He could go to the bathroom in between classes without worrying about flooding the whole floor. Also, he didn’t have to pack lunch but could get something from the nearby stores, vending machines or even a small eatery down the road. It wasn’t that expensive either. He loved computer lab now, as he could actually use a proper, working PC instead of carrying his own beat-up laptop to school and guarding it with his life for the whole day. There was a basketball team, too. A proper, not streetball, but basketball team. They actually competed, too. He’d immediately signed up for it.

But, with all the perks came a certain level of work you were required to do in order to pass classes. There was no more storming off when he got bad news about something. There was no more fighting in the hallway. There was no more tagging his locker. There were no more Serpents, Ghoulies and the hazy in-between. There were school uniforms and preppy, expensive clothes. Sweet Pea hated the uniforms with passion. They’d forced him into a pair of waist-high pants and a turtleneck to cover his Serpent tattoo. He loathed the uniforms. Yet, unlike Fangs, he had rolled over like a good boy and worn the ugly thing to class, despite the humiliation.

Ruby had easily fit in, much to his annoyance. She’d pulled out a peppy outfit, clearly bought at the mall and not the dollar store, and worn it like she was completely at home. The girl had noticed his discomfort with the idea of wearing a uniform, though. So, she’d suggested an idea he hadn’t thought would work. Yet, Sweet Pea was willing to try anything, especially if it could both get rid of the ugly uniforms and get him a better grade. With the help of the petite girl, he’d volunteered for the debate Riverdale afterschool club. The topic was student-suggested and would be presented in front of the students and staff alike. They had chosen the question of school uniforms being a good or bad idea. Or, as the official title went - Should uniforms in schools be abandoned?

“I’ve got five points, but I can’t think of any more,” Sweet Pea grumbled as he and Ruby sat in the student lounge of Riverdale High, tossing his notebook at the girl. She caught it without looking up from her phone. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I don’t know how to argue these.”

“Alright,” Ruby finally looked up from her phone and her eyes met his. “I’ll do the pro-arguments. Let’s give it a go,” she tossed his notebook back and Sweet Pea opened it on his lap, ready to begin. “The first question is usually something along the lines of ‘do school uniforms create a sense of belonging somewhere’?” Sweet Pea glanced down at his notebook, seeing that he hadn’t touched on that topic. He would have to wing it.

“No, not really,” he told the girl and Ruby raised her eyebrows, motioning with her hands for him to continue. “School uniforms are a way to stifle all originality regarding style and preferences of the students,” Ruby nodded and waited. Sweet Pea groaned a bit and then realized that he should elaborate even further. “Choices are important, especially for teenagers. If we can’t be allowed to choose something as small as what to wear, we’re essentially being told to forget our preferences and originality later in life. In addition to that, teenage years are the time when building one’s personality happens. Having the freedom to choose what to wear helps a person find their own self and identify with similar people.” Ruby smiled at him.

“In my opinion, school uniforms are a good idea when it comes to creating a sense of belonging, especially with the new students coming from Southside High,” Ruby countered, making Sweet Pea open his mouth to reply. But, she put up a finger and didn’t let him. “Wearing the same uniform as everyone, no matter which side of the tracks they come from would help students feel like one. It would create a sense of belonging and help them get along better, without discriminating against the newcomers from Southside High. In the end, originality is still a choice, as uniforms can be decorated freely as long as the dress code is being respected,” then, the girl looked at him pointedly. “You’re not allowed to interrupt during the debate,” Sweet Pea tried to speak again, but Ruby cut him off. “Now, the next question is if school uniforms can help scrap the social inequalities.”

“Wait, wait,” Sweet Pea put his hands up, stopping her. “Don’t I get a chance to reply? A rebuttal, or something?” his face lit up and the biker smirked at the petite girl. “Redirect, Your Honor!” That sentence got a bit of laughter running throughout the crowd which had steadily been gathering around them.

“This isn’t a court, sasquatch. But, sure, have at it.” Ruby shook her head and motioned for him to continue.

“If the aim of school uniforms is to level the playing field, so to speak, and create a sense of belonging, why are only the Southside students being asked to wear them?” Ruby nodded to him furiously.

“That! That’s a point which you should definitely be making within your argument,” she smiled at him brightly and Sweet Pea felt his face heat up at the praise. “Write that down,” Ruby waited for him to do so and then asked the next question again when he looked up. “So, about uniforms helping with social inequalities?”

“Is that about gang paraphernalia?” Sweet Pea asked, frowning.

“It can be,” Ruby shrugged. “For example, an argument against school uniform could be that, while it may help exterminate bullying against students with lower income and cheaper clothing, it will also increase a ‘gang state of mind’,” when she saw him frowning, Ruby elaborated. “School uniforms create a larger ‘gang’, so to speak,” her fingers quoted the word. “By having a uniform, there is a rivalry being created with other schools. In essence, while it may not be the Serpents or the Ghoulies, it’s still a ‘gang’.”

“Oh, I see,” Sweet Pea wrote down the basic points and then looked back up at the girl. “What about the counter?”

“School uniforms would stop the rich from competing against each other and bullying the less fortunate,” She shrugged again and Sweet Pea huffed at her wording. Ruby instantly glared at him. “Don’t you huff at me! You’re going to be called out as less fortunate up there, so be ready for it.”

“Alright, alright. Anger is going to be in check,” when she raised her eyebrow Sweet Pea groaned. “I promise to do my best.”

“Okay, next question could be whether school uniforms are practical or not.” At that, the tall biker’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh, let me get started,” he proudly puffed out his chest and grabbed his notebook. The onlookers laughed, hearing Sweet Pea begin to list off a number of reasons why uniforms weren’t comfortable or practical. He started with the quality of clothing and ended with religious reasons, highlighting the Muslim tradition of girls having to cover their skin, which the uniforms didn’t accommodate. In the end, their mock debate turned more into an actual battle, rather than Ruby explaining each question and making suggestions regarding arguments Sweet Pea could make. The crowd around them changed, students coming and going, but, there was a steady group of about a dozen people applauding whenever one of them one-upped the other. In the end, Ruby stopped Sweet Pea from talking and turned to the onlookers.

“So, what do you say, jury?” she asked. “All those in favor of school uniforms being introduced to Riverdale High?” a couple of hands rose. “All those in favor of having a dress code only?” a majority of the students put their hands up. “Well, Sweet Pea, looks like you’ve just won your mock debate.” The tall biker stood, making a show out of bowing to the crowd which applauded. Then, he turned to Ruby and took her hand, making her get up and get pulled into the hallway, scrambling to keep his notebook in her hands, along with her bag and phone. Sweet Pea didn’t stop until they reached the boys’ bathroom, which he tugged Ruby into and closed the door, locking it by sliding a piece of wood under the frame.

“Have I mentioned how hot you are when you’re arguing debate?” The tall biker turned to the girl, the look in his eyes making her brain short-circuit.

“Ah, um, no?” She stuttered out.

“Insanely hot.” And Sweet Pea kissed her against the tiles of the bathroom, his notebook and her bag falling to the floor.

And, I am happy to give you guys this piece of smut and sexual tension xD I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist:  @enticinghell @projectcampbell @sweetscamille @xoxodege @mlvgren @this-is-the-way-it-ends 

You can find the previous parts here: Day 1: A way to memorize Day 2: How to prepare for a study date (?) like a proper gentleman Day 3:  With proper motivation, anything is possible Day 4:  PG13 PDA sugar can be good motivation Day 5: Autumn time is picnic time Day 6: It’s best when we can compete Day 7:  Master of procrastination and his jailer Day 8: Take me anywhere, everywhere, away from here Day 9:  Dirty French for beginners   Day 10:  I need… sleep?… no, you… Day 11:  Delirium   Day 12: Stay still for me   Day 14: Two-seater and Chinese   Day 15:  Unintentional intentions  

Now, I’m gonna need a show of hands, as well, my jury: Send me in an ask, anon if you want, if you’d like another set of drabbles about these two or a longer story about them. Cheers!

[theartistdetective]

The Joker x Harley Quinn - Mephisto: Part 13

Hiya guys! It’s me again. Just so you don’t know, this is part includes the last bit of the child’s story, so get ready to learn the little one’s identity.

 Sadly, due to my pc’s condition -still-, I am currently using a device that makes it a lot hard for me to use italic writing: so don’t be alarmed when you read the child’s story. And I will write the characters thoughts like ‘this,. So, enjoy.

WARNINGS: Ok I need a lot of warnings for this part, NSFW, smut, though it is more like a sex scene in a movie than downright porn, weird usage of grape soda, and lets warn you about a more important part, DOMESTIC ABUSE, sadness, horror, drugs, more sadness, p.s. I don’t know if it is scary since I can’t be scared of reading something even if it’s horror, AGAIN MORE SADNESS

MASTERLIST

The King of Gotham reached out for the handle of the door belonging to his purple Lamborghini, a grin adorning his face, to get his dear queen out of the car. Pulling the handle towards himself, the Joker opened the door and held out his hand for her; earning a flirty giggle from the insane Mephisto. As soon as she took his hand, the madman forcefully pulled her towards himself. A squeal escaped Harley’s mouth as she tripped on the long skirt of her red dress and fell forward, landing on the Joker’s bare chest.

She laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips on his. He kissed her back, savoring the warm and wet sensation on his lips; slipping his tongue in.

After a few passionate seconds; the Joker broke the kiss and placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the stairs going up to the majestic entrance of his mansion through the pathway surrounded by trees.

The building was located in the outskirts of Gotham. A forest consisting of larches was surrounding it, making it almost unseeable to the outsiders. Of course; the Clown Prince of Crime rarely chose to spend his nights here, as he always had some mischief to cause somewhere in Gotham, which needed him to have multiple hideouts in the city. The only times he got to stay in this luxurious residence were the times he waited for everything to cool down. Like, when he got out of Arkham; or blew up the national bank… the time when those commoners would be keyed up, waiting for his next move. The Joker would make them wait on purpose, just to raise the level of psychological torment of being the prey.

Above all, this was the mansion Harley brought him after she had broken him out from the Arkham Asylum. A memory the Joker did not remember, mostly because he was drugged as hell by the same woman. This intrigued him in a different way, he wanted to see how this woman did business. Not only she had found his main hideout, she also knew that was the place he would have to stay after a breakout from Arkham. He unconsciously eyed the woman walking beside him as he couldn’t help but smile, ‘You really know everything don’t you?’

The Joker leaned towards the intriguing woman as he got his lips closer to her ear, and whispered: “I really hope you weren’t bugged this time. I have still got that itch to scratch.” Harley grunted in annoyance: “I’m not. I’ve double-checked myself and double-threatened Harry. He wouldn’t dare to interrupt us this time.”

The Joker chuckled as he chimed, “Well, you’ve managed to get rid of him while coming to the club; a small bug isn’t that important…” They stopped in front of the entrance of the mansion, as the Clown Prince of Crime’s childish behavior suddenly turned into a cunning one. “…I was planning on strip searching you myself anyway.”

Harley giggled in delight, “You’re always so skeptical Mr. J…”

They heard multiple cars’ engines roaring as they entered the mansion. Frost and the other henchmen who had beeen escorting them from a safe distance had arrived. Even when they had been on the road, Frost was extra careful to not to approach to his Boss and his lady too much;  not leaving them without any guard as well; for he knew Boss wouldn’t tolerate any interruption during his private moments with the goddess of assassins. With a single movement of his hand, the goons came to a halt, waiting near the cars patiently. They all knew they were waiting for the King and Queen to go upstairs, where all of them except Frost was forbidden to go.

His hand on the small of Harley’s back, the Joker escorted her through the halls soaked in gold and sprinkled with gems. Together, they climbed up the wooden stairs, embroidered with golden ornaments of harlequins and jesters.

The end of the stairs was opening to a giant lobby, furnished with dark purple leather seats, a plain grey carpet and three gigantic hyper realistic paintings hanging on it’s cream-colored walls. The paintings might had been looked like photographs for an unknowing eye, but Harley knew it was otherwise. The first painting was of a little girl, holding a gun which was too big for her hand, while pointing it upward. The second was of a young boy, who seemed to be praying to the Donald Duck figure floating on his bed while he crouched near it. The third one, Harley knew, was a self-portrait of the artist himself; screaming through the breaking glass as half of his head was covered in bandages, the tines of two forks pricking his eyes out.

“You love Gottfried Helnwein too, huh?” muttered Lady Snowblood, just when the Clown Prince of Crime was about to proceed to the door at the end of the lobby. The Joker threw a surprised glance at her: “You know him?”

“Yes. Actually, he’s my favorite artist. Too bad I couldn’t see these when I came here before, it must probably be because I entered your room from the window.”, she muttered.

“Ha!” laughed the madman. “He’s one of my favorites as well.” he exclaimed as they passed through the artworks, stopping in front of the door at the end of the lobby. The door had a hand-print scanner attached to it. Harley glared suspiciously at the security device and smirked: “Well, that thing doesn’t worth a penny when your enemies know how to climb a damn window.”

“For your information milady,” mocked the Joker. “That window also was tightly shut, designed to be opened only from the inside and had a titanium shield covering it; as well as being connected to a deafening alarm system.” he listed as the door opened. He stepped back and held the door out for her, as he curtsied dramatically with a sarcastic grin plastered on his face. As Harley passed by him, he leaned on her ear slightly and whispered: “That enemy must be very eager to enter my bedroom if she is willing to struggle with a window that much.”

Lady Snowblood playfully bit her lower lip and eyed the man slightly, before turning towards him and trapping him between her body and the jambs of the entrance. “Although I must admit I was quite eager puddin’…” she giggled, as her hand slowly went down; stroking the bulge on his pants playfully. “I didn’t struggle at all, you know I have my ways.”

“Oh, I know you have your ways darling…” the madman purred, sliding his body away from hers, easily getting away from her grip. “But you must know that I have some ways to punish a person who blows up my windows.”

He quickly linked her arm with hers, squeezing it tight; while she squeezed his back. “Oh goodie, I like the way that sounds.”, she chimed and rested her head on his shoulder as she snuggled to him closer.

The room they entered was a king suite, the bedroom of the infamous Clown Prince of Crime. It was connected to the office of his, the place his formidable ideas were notoriously created. The luxury which the rest of the mansion possessed, wasn’t fit to hold a candle to the flamboyance in that suite. The walls were cream colored, with black colored “HA!“s scattered hither and thither. A king size bed with satin purple covers was standing with all it’s glory, just right beside the window in question; which was opening to a grand terrace. There was a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which wasn’t doing any kind of work to lighten the room at that moment.

The red and yellow colors dancing in the fireplace were doing it’s work temporarily. A toxic green leather sofa was placed by the fireplace and between them, laid the come-hither bearskin rug. There was a wooden bucket filled with ice and multiple bottles of grape soda near the rug. Harley gazed at the scene and smirked, "Well aren’t you a romantic, baby?”

She kicked her heels off and sat on the fluffy rug. The Joker followed her and did the same, sitting right next to the bewitching Mephisto, leaning on the leather couch behind him. He took the two bottles of grape soda and handed one to her as he downed a huge nip. “Where does Edgar think you are right now?”

“A mission in Boston.” whispered Lady Snowblood and took a sip, licking her lips after.

“Good.” growled the King of Gotham. “I’m not planning to release you for a while.”

Harley giggled and snuggled towards the madman. He pulled her in his embrace as she whispered in his ear, “Tell me puddin, does it always feel this good to be your prisoner?”.

The Joker purred, sending shiver down to Harley’s spine; “Only for you my harlequin…”

Their lips instantly collided and their movements started to become more like their heartbeats: fast and filled with pure lust. Their tongues tasted the grape juice and longing in each other as they fought for dominance: Harley passed her fingers through the Joker’s green hair, pulling them harshly, making him throw his head back with a grunt; exposing his neck to her. Her lips brushed his alabaster skin before she started sucking, placing sulphureous kisses on his neck, aiming to give him a hickey. The Joker placed his hand on her hips, pulling her towards himself as his hands moved down to grab her by the thighs, pulling her on his lap. After a harsh slap which made her squeal on her behind, his hands moved upwards; one held her golden locks away from her back while the other unzipped that maddening red dress of hers.

She lifted her face up from his neck and smirked. The top of the dress fell down loosely from her shoulders. Harley quickly freed her arms from the tight red velvet and stood up from his lap agilely. She swayed her hips left and right as if she was dancing to an inaudible beat, letting the fabric slide down her curves. She winked at the Joker when the dress fell down completely, earning an impatient growl from him.

The madman eyed her dazzling body in black lingerie and downed the rest of the grape flavored drink completely. Harley giggled, throwing her hair on her shoulders and reached back to the clasp of her bra. The Joker growled impatiently again and grabbed his cane laying beside him. He held his cane out and propped the handle of it on the seductive Mephisto’s loin. He forcefully pulled her towards himself before she unclasped it, like he did to get her off the stage. Harley fell on him, a quick yelp escaping her lips, before she settled on his lap once again.

The madman laughed at her surprised expression and pulled her face closer towards his, grabbing her chin. Harley started grinding on him as their lips met, feeling him grow even stiffer in his pants. She smiled into the kiss as he started purring. Oh how much she loved to tease him! Although her lips parted with his, she continued tracing his addictive skin down with wet kisses while continuing to grind on him. She planted a kiss on his jawline, before tracing his neck again. She bit his collarbone, earning a hiss from the madman as another slap landed on her behind. She giggled and slowly started taking his shirt off as her tongue started swirling on her chest. His shirt was already nearly unbuttoned, but she couldn’t resist the urge to tear the buttons apart completely. The silk fabric slid off the Joker’s muscled shoulders easily after that.

As her lips’ soft brushing danced on every part of his naked chest, she slowly slid off his lap and placed herself in front of him, on her elbows and knees. She struggled with his belt buckle as her tongue traced the line between his abs, going downwards. Harley unzipped his pants and reached under the two coats of fabric. The madman threw his head back as her hands wrapped around his stiffened member. He started caressing her hair as he purred, synchronized with each stroke she gave him. She giggled at his reaction and planted a soft kiss on his foreskin as she reached towards her bottle of grape soda. While still being propped up on her elbows, Harley sloppily attempted to drink it; pouring it on both of them in the process. “Oops, sorry puddin…” she giggled, looking at the madman innocently.

The madman chuckled at her theatrics and reached forward to caress her cheek. “Oh my, aren’t you a freaky one pumpkin?”

She giggled in response, licking his soda covered shaft from bottom to top in one swift motion.

The Joker held his breath uncontrollably as he felt Harley’s lips closing around himself. He held her head by her hair as she started moving her head back forth. The madman purred as he felt her tongue swirling around him. His purrs made Harley shiver to her core and she picked up the pace, taking him balls deep, eager to get more sounds out of him. Without any theatrics this time, Harley took the bottle of soda and poured the rest of the drink on him; before continuing to work her tongue on him even faster than before. After the Joker’s purrs slowly started to turn into fierce growls, she moaned and playfully grazed her teeth on his member; slightly biting the tip before she continued.

She yelped as the madman suddenly tugged her hair back, making her rise her head up. The Joker was quick to grab her by the chin, pulling her on his torso. He then rolled over in a swift motion and trapped the Mephisto of his between his chest and the bearskin rug.

He kissed her then, unclasping her bra and before throwing it god-knows-where. His hand grasped her breast as his lips lingered on the sweet spot on her neck while his mouth moved downwards. When the Joker’s hands found her hips, his started wandering on her breasts, instantly finding her nipple. He bit her hard like she did to him, earning a yelp from his Harley. He tasted the small drop of blood he had drawn from her sensitive skin, before he continued sucking.

This was just like the dreams the Joker had before. Her heavenly figure under his hands, his figure under her devilish gaze… Though this time, the intoxicating scent filling his nostrils and the soft whimpers filling his ears were very real and true.

He planted a soft kiss on her belly, gazing at the temptation of red and yellow lights taking over her soothingly creamy skin. After his face was lowered enough to level with her hips, the madman tugged the side of the remaining part of the lingerie with his teeth like he did in the dreams of his; never breaking eye contact with his Mephisto.

Harley raised her legs up a little bit, as the lace piece slowly slid through them, going down to her ankles. Still holding the fabric between his teeth, he harshly tugged it off and threw it away; before settling himself between her legs.

Harley placed her thighs on the madman’s shoulders and couldn’t help but shiver, feeling his hot breath lingering on her throbbing core. Their gaze interlocked for a second, before a vulgar growl ripped from the back of the madman’s throat.

Soon, his mouth was on her womanhood, his growls slowly turning into pleasant purrs. Lady Snowblood’s body twitched from the vibrating sensation, making the Joker’s grip get tighter on her hips as she whimpered, earning a slap on her behind by the madman. His tongue moved around, drawing zigzags on her clit. He removed his right hand away from her hip and inserted one finger in her, working it around. Harley couldn’t help but let a trilled moan out. The Joker inserted a second finger as well and without moving them around, he started to slowly make in and out motions, tormenting Harley as she started twitching under his touch, begging for more. The madman did nothing but giggle at her desperate begs. He quickened the movements of his tongue and she softly started to caress his now messy hair, as the madman continued to eat her out voraciously while fingering her. He slowly picked the pace, earning more moans from his Harley.

When the Mephisto’s moans started turning into ferocious grunts which she could not fully let out due to the strain formed in her throat’s muscles, the Joker suddenly pulled away from her.

Harley whimpered with dissatisfaction, longing the hot feeling of his touch on her skin.  But almost instantly after that, the Joker was on top of her again; this time, their eyes on the same level. Their foreheads touching; although their lips were dangerously close to each other, they didn’t kiss. They just stopped for a brief second, their breaths getting even more heavier than before; as Harley threw her arms around the Joker’s shoulders, feeling his hot member on her pelvis.

Their gaze interlocked and they both held their breath as he slowly entered her, their muscles straining at the impact of the vertiginous sensation. The Joker, surprisingly, gave her some brief seconds to adjust to him; but as soon as he got the signal to continue, he took Harley’s breath away, starting to pound into her. Harley’s walls clenched around him even more as he started to move faster. His movements were stern and rough; Harley had tears swelling up in her eyes. The Joker’s grunts were mixing with her loud moans. She was holding onto his body like he was the last piece of wood in the vast ocean, the only thing that could possibly save her from drowning. The Joker lifted his head up, separating their foreheads and kissed her before burying his face in her neck, biting her hard. He slowed down for some brief seconds for he felt her muscles clenching around him even more. “You…” he pounded into her again. “…can’t…”, he grunted. “…come…”, he bit her ear. “…before I tell you to do so.”, he inhaled her scent for a moment as her moans turned into silent whimpers. She nodded, agreeing, trying to catch her breath. He kissed her neck multiple times before putting his forehead on hers one more time.

He returned to his rough way again straight after and the Mephisto’s whimpers turned into a mixture of moans and screams, which only made his movements quicker and harsher. One of his hands reached down and started rubbing her clit. Harley buried her face in his shoulder to silence a moan and planted kisses on his jawline after. Their grip was growing tighter on each other as the seconds passed and they knew they were both their limit.

Harley shut her eyes tight as she hissed through her gritted teeth, “Daddy… I…”

That word and her walls clenching around him made the Joker’s movements get sloppy. Harley opened her mouth to let out a scream as she came but choked on it, she just stiffened in his embrace and shivered as he grunted, following her; loosely resting his left cheek on her right one as he moved slowly inside her, feeling her throb around his shaft. Harley felt him coming in her and slowly caressed his hair, waiting for him until he recollected himself.

The Joker then rolled over and collapsed right next to her, both of them trying to catch their breath. They looked at each other as Harley spoke first, giggling. “Wow…” she mumbled. “That was…”

“Wild.”, the madman continued, looking at her with a smirk plastered on his face. Harley giggled, “Yes, daddy…”, she winked at him and planted a quick butterfly kiss on his lips when he started purring again. She stood up in a swift motion before he was able to catch her; holding her hair away from her face. Kicking her black high heels out of her way, she had just started heading to the bathroom when all of a sudden, she stopped and turned her head towards the madman.

“Care to join me for some more fun puddin?” she chimed playfully.

“Oh, pumpkin…” the Joker sang, gazing at her heavenly form, “I am definitely not insane enough to turn down that offer.”

And the King of Gotham stood up, taking his pants off completely as he followed his Queen to the shower, long red nail-marks distinguishable on his tattooed back.

   ***

It had been five hours since the beautiful woman known as the night had worn her black dress. It’s pitch back color was blocking the rays of sun from lightening the streets. And the moon wasn’t there to help that day, since the woman known as the night had chosen to not to wear her pendant for some reason.

But it was still fine, the child could still see the path with the help of the dim lights emanating from the street lamps. It didn’t feel as safe as the sunlight, but it would have to do. No, the child needed the sun for another reason; a reason bigger than the darkness.

The cold.

With nothing but gossamer pieces of clothing on, the little one had been wandering through the streets of the neighborhood alone for nearly the whole day. The choice of not returning to the house was becoming more impossible as the seconds passed, but the five year old did not want to make the critical decision of turning back.

‘You were always destined to turn back from the start…’, the voice echoing in the little mind spoke. 'You just don’t want to be a quitter.’

The voice was right, there was no way a five year old could strive in these streets alone. The child was shivering from the cold, hadn’t drunk or eaten anything since the night before and the fact that the house wasn’t that far away made it even more irresistible to go back.

And it was scary outside, the fact that there could have been even more dangerous creatures than the “it” lurking around made the child feel nauseous.

It was mandatory to go back that hell.

Sighing, the little feet turned back and started running towards the house where all of the nightmares were born. 'I won’t stay…’, the child thought. 'I will just grab some food and clothes without waking them up.’

Passing through the streets, only one threat was still lingering around the child’s head: the “it”. He usually invaded the house at night and if he caught his runaway offspring the consequences wouldn’t have been pretty. Nevertheless, the child continued to run; it was not like there was a chance of staying outside that hell. If there was, all of the siblings would had done it by that time.

As soon as the roof of the house was visible to the eye, the child stopped running. Instead, walked slowly; for preventing anyone to notice the unfamiliar movement in the neighborhood.

Tiptoeing towards the garden door, the child realized it was impossible for a person in this size to open the door by themselves. The heavy door could creak and waste every struggle of staying quiet as well.

So, instead of passing through the entrance, the child climbed up the cold bricked wall. It wasn’t as hard as it looked, but coming down wouldn’t have been that easy. Holding the edge of the wall, the little figure jumped and hanged from the edge of the wall. Careful to not to make a sound, the child dropped onto the smooth surface of wet grass, tiptoeing towards the back of the building to find an open window from which one can sneak in after standing up.

The child knew there was an open window, because big sis always slept with her window open. The child reached to the back of the house, praying while looking around to find where big sis’ bedroom was. Seeing the window wasn’t closed, the little one squealed in delight: now all that was left to do was to sneak in without waking big sis up.

The window was quite high, but not as high as the wall that had just been climbed. Jumping as high as possible, the little one held onto the windowsill and pulled the small body up. After throwing the right leg in the room, the child pushed the little weight forward.

But the force applied was apparently too much.

The child fell forward with a loud thud, crashing onto the wooden parquet head first in the process. Moaning in pain, the small hand rubbed the little head as the child grunted and wobbling, barely managed to stand up. The little one had to wait for the dizziness to go away for a few seconds.

It was then when the child remembered that it was dangerous to make any noises.

Panicking, the horrified eyes started searching the room for any person who noticed the existence of their sibling; though there were absolutely none. Big sis wasn’t in the room. The child bent down and looked under the bed, just for insurance. She wasn’t there either.

Then where was she?

The impact of the realization hit the child like a brick as the small frame froze while looking at the empty bed of big sis.

There could be a few reasons why she wasn’t there. She could be in the toilet, or she had been thirsty and went downstairs to grab some water. Both of those possibilities were very slim since the children of the household were always forced to be extra careful about the times they left their rooms. The “it” could enter that house at anytime and no one would have wanted to be the first person he came across under no circumstances.

The other possibility was that she was hiding. Hiding with the other children, from the “it” himself. The child couldn’t hear mommy’s screams, that probably meant the “it” had already started looking for them. The game of hide and seek had already begun.

Just to be sure, the child exited big sis’ room to look at big bro’s. Much to the child’s dismay, big bro was nowhere to be seen as well. Then that meant it was dangerous to be alone at that moment. Wanting to find where the others were, the child stepped into the empty hall. This time the little one knew where to start: the baby’s bedroom.

Passing through the red carpet covered halls, the child was all ears in case of an emergency. The baby’s room was upstairs, so the little feet headed towards the stairs; scared the wooden parquet might creak any time. As soon as the first step was taken, a blood curdling creaking sound echoed through the halls; making the child freeze abruptly. Thinking that the “it” had probably heard it and was getting closer anyway, the child immediately started running up the stairs. After the little one finally made it to the second floor without getting caught, the little one’s ears were pricked up; knowing the “it” probably was heading towards the staircase.

The child quickly proceeded to wobble towards the baby’s room, but realized something was off.

There was no sign of the “it”.

That monster usually couldn’t walk straight, for someone who was that sloppy he was awfully quiet that night. Suddenly, the reason dawned on the child.

'He is waiting for me somewhere.’

Tiptoeing on the soft carpet, the child approached to the baby’s room, shivering in fear. It’s door was closed and not a single sound could be heard behind it. The child propped the little ear on the wooden surface and listened… everything… which was nothing.

Faintheartedly, the child’s hand clutched around the metal handle as it was pushed down. The door slowly opened, quietly creaking as the little one looked around for anything out of ordinary in the ink dark room.

The only reason one could see anything in that dark mess was the dim light emanating somewhere from the street through a small window. Thanks to that dim light, the crib of the baby was partially visible. In the crib, one could notice an odd silhouette. The child thought it was the sleeping form of the infant at first, but quickly changed the absurd thought; as the smudgy form of darkness laying on the mattress was a little odd to be of an human child’s. It possibly was a heap of clothes, scattered around in the crib.

The child looked around to see any clues pointing to the siblings’ presence in the room though, there weren’t any. 'Then…’, the child wondered. 'If they’re not here, where are they?“

The little body turned around to face the wide open door, aiming to exit the overly dark room to find the other children.

It happened right then.

Suddenly; a small, round object was thrown at the little one’s arms. With a quick reflex, the child caught it; wrapping the arms around the round object. It was impossible to deduce what it was in a darkness like that one, but the child didn’t care about the object at that moment.

The place where it was thrown from was far more concerning.

The frightened eyes opened wide when the door moved. A nerve racking creak resounded in the room as blood curling giggles filled the child’s ears. It wasn’t necessary to lift one’s head and look, in order to know who awaited behind that door. Now that the mysterious identity of the person who had thrown the object was solved, the child was more interested in what the object was. The round, warm… and slightly wet object.

The sudden impact of a strong beam of light, hit the child right in the eyes; stopping the little fingers’ quest to identify the round thing under them. The child’s eyes were squinted as everything was lost in a mass of whiteness for a couple of seconds. When the eyes finally got used to the luminescence; the child distinguished the "it"s figure, sticking out his head from behind the door as he chuckled at his offspring’s helplessness. He held a torch in his right hand while he was pointing it at the little one; laughing like the high madman he was as he started to turn it’s switch on and off intermittently, making the light flicker on the horrified face.

The flickering beam of light kept the child’s attention on itself, until the hypnotized eyes noticed the thing he held in his other hand.

There, he had grasped a bloody kitchen knife by it’s handle.

Gasping, the child faintheartedly looked at the round object as the little hands started shaking, afraid the things that would have been seen.

The thing the little one saw was a nightmare come to life.

Frozen look, red stained wet skin, stopped movement and unbearable silence… those things were what the object was. The child, still clutching onto the warm and wet bundle, turned towards the silhouette on the crib; now, under the light of the torch, saw the red stains. That thing was indeed a human baby, the only reason the child thought it couldn’t be was…

The fact that it didn’t have a head.

As everything downed upon the child, a lamentable shriek erupted from the small mouth. As the round thing fell onto the parquet, a loud thud was heard.

That thud was the thing that brought the child back to life and without thinking, the little feet sprang forward to flee away from the room. The "it” swung the blade in the air as the child was about to escape, creating a deep slash on the narrow back. That didn’t effect anything, since the child was unable to feel anything at that point. Screaming, the child fell down the stairs. A cracking sound resonated through the house, but the child didn’t feel it, couldn’t see a thing and didn’t hear anything but loud whimpers. The only image that could be seen was the baby’s frozen look on it’s eyes, still lingering in the little one’s mind. The only thing that could be felt was panic. The only way to stop the whimpers was beating the panic and frankly, that was not going to happen.

The child stumbled through the halls of the first floor, having a hysteria attack, having no idea where to head. The monster was close, still giggling and the child knew there was no escape this time.

He was going to have some fun.

The little feet stumbled on the carpet, as if everything was nothing but a horrible dream. As the whimpers slowly started to die down, one could hear the giggles getting closer. The child didn’t have any power left in the legs and the eyelids were slowly closing.

'Come on, you can’t faint now…’

 But the child collapsed. Not due to losing consciousness, no… but due to tripping on something. Looking at the thing blocking the hall, a sob escaped the little one’s lips.

There, lied down the lifeless body of mommy. Her hair scattered around and her clothes torn here and there, she looked more pitiful than she had ever been before. The child’s attention was caught by the deep slash on her throat, where her blood stopped oozing from long ago. A pool of dried blood had formed around her, emanating a nauseating smell. Through her torn shirt, the child distinguished the handle of her butterfly knife; though not a single drop of blood was staining it.

'Even when he was slaughtering your children, you just couldn’t bring yourself to harm him, could you?’

Taking the butterfly knife with shaking hands; the child ran away then, without sparing another glance at mommy. Heading towards the living room, the little one was clueless about what to do. Maybe it was possible to flee from one of the windows there before the “it” had even more fun.

But as soon as the child took the first step into the living room, all of the possible plans of escaping were erased from the horizon.

It was mommy’s knitting kit, the bag had fallen down, the contents inside scattered on the floor. Big bro was lying near the contents, a visible slash on his cheekbone, bleeding from his head; as his eyes were wide open. A little amount of blood could be seen on the corner of the table as well. On the grey sofa near him, someone else -big sis- looked like she was sitting. But her eyes also were wide open and she moved no more. The child, world spinning around the little head, approached to big sis’ body. Then saw it.

A knitting needle was stabbed through her neck. Not “on”, but “through”.

The child couldn’t resist the shock anymore. Screaming, the small frame collapsed on the knitting kit’s pieces. Some of them pricked the sensitive skin, drawing a little amount of blood. But neither the pricked skin, nor the broken bone or the deep cut on the back could separate the child’s eyes with big sis’ wound. While still sobbing, the “it"s raspy voice was heard:

"Oh don’t be so surprised my birdie… What? Did you really think I wouldn’t punish everyone who let my successor get away? Put the empire I built at risk?”

'They’re dead because of me…’ thought the child, mentally in pain. 'If I didn’t escape, they…’

Finally remembering the “it” was coming close, the child ducked behind the sofa; some of the pieces of the kit rolling towards the child along with it's body. The child heard footsteps coming closer, as the monsters’ voice filled the room.

“I am starting to think that even you are not worth of my time birdie…” he sang as he twirled the knife around in his hand. The child felt the butterfly knife get heavier in the little hand’s grip as the “it” approached to the sofa, whistling. He already knew his offspring hid behind it. He wanted to play with the child a little.

All of a sudden, a silver light flew past his ear.

The “it” slightly jumped in terror, looking at the butterfly knife struck in the wall behind him, dumbfounded. After looking at the knife which had almost killed him for a few seconds, he cracked up. Holding his stomach, the “it” started laughing like a maniac; god knows why.

Freezing behind the sofa, the child knew it was done. The only weapon that could be used to defend the little one against that monster was thrown away. It didn’t even manage to cut his skin a little. The child shivered in fear, at loss of what to do next.

The madman chuckled as he stumbled towards the sofa, where his daughter’s corpse sat on with a knitting needle in her neck. He could smell the five year old’s fear; he could hear the clinking sound of the glass bottle holding his offspring’s sanity, wobbling on the edge of the precipice known as madness, ready to fall just with a little push.

So he started singing, making up the words; he had heard his late wife humming this melody before to the children; probably a sweet memory for them. The “it” would make sure that wouldn’t have been the case anymore.

There was a little birdie always wanting to fly, So it jumped from a tree that was way too high. When the next day came and the animals looked around,

 They found little Harleen bleeding on the ground.

Something snapped right then, in little Harleen’s mind. Her silent whimpers died down, the trembling in her hands stopped, the tears flowing down her puffy cheeks started to dry. She didn’t try to run away, though she didn’t continue staying behind that sofa. She just abruptly stood up and came out from the place she had been hiding. Standing right next to her sister’s corpse, she faced her father.

The man who she had thought 'was’ a terrifying 'ghoul’ which visited their house to haunt them every night, rather than her 'father’; looked at his creation in the eye. He’d be proud of the state she was in normally, but his drug induced mind and her hatred towards him didn’t allow him to do anything but kill her. He had tried to change Harleen before, make her like himself. He’d injected tormenting drugs into her body; including one which was used in World Wars, to permanently damage the mind of the enemy’s soldiers by pain, in order to obtain more information from them. The soldiers whom were given this injection were far from being able to control what they said or did, turning them into human puppets.

When he injected this drug he obtained to little Harleen; she screamed in pain, obviously, the drug was doing it’s job.

But instead of turning into a puppet of the madman; the girl became violent, almost like a wild animal, attacking everything on her way. She was not giving in, she could not be controlled.

That wobbling bottle was never going to fall into that precipice known as madness like he wanted it to.

But the “it” hadn’t realized that something snapped in Harleen seconds ago. Her long and curly hair disheveled, covering most of her face; clothes torn and covered in blood; blue eyes screaming murder and knees trembling from the blood loss… the “it” admired the blood staining her almost snow-like skin, she finally started to look like him… too bad she had to die.

“You want me to be your heiress daddy, be like you?”, the little girl chimed.

Her voice startled the “it”, for two reasons. First, she never called him daddy; second, her voice didn’t sound like her, it was too… high.

“Well, I figure you do.”, Harleen continued. She looked at her right, where her sister’s corpse stood. She reached out and touched the tip of the knitting needle buried in her neck and giggled. Weird, since the “it” didn’t see her smile or move her mouth as she did that. “But you must have been careful about what you wished for.”, she grabbed the needle by it’s tip as she grinned at the madman. “You of all people must know better about who my father is, who 'you’ are…”

Harleen suddenly pulled the blood soaked knitting needle out. The madman didn’t have much time to react, her first attack was too quick. He felt a stinging pain on the hand he held the knife. The knife flew back as he threw it in pain, hitting the wall and falling on the floor. The “it” looked at his hand, hissing as he saw the place Harleen pricked him.

Growling, he decided he’d do just fine, attacking her bare handed. He lunched forward, grabbing the child by her waist as his other hand held her hand holding the needle. He lifted her up, trying to yank the weapon away from her hand. The needle was on their eye level, with it’s sharp end pointing towards the madman. They struggled for a few seconds, as the child managed to resist him by pulling the needle towards herself with both hands. After a few seconds, the “it” started to wonder why Harleen was smirking.

All of a sudden, she let go of the needle.

Already having been pulling the needle towards himself for a while, the madman did not expect the sudden disappearance of the counter force that used to keep the weapon in place. So, he could not do anything as he, himself, pricked his own left eye by pulling the needle towards himself. He let out a vehement scream as his grip on the child and the weapon loosened, yet, her grip on him didn’t.

Holding on his right shoulder with her left arm, the child used her other hand to press the needle deeper in his eye. She felt the spine chilling feeling of his sphenoid bone being scratched by the sharp end of the needle. She then pulled it off quickly and jumped down, as the madman stumbled back in pain; hitting the wall behind him. He slumped down on his butt, one hand pressing on his bleeding wound as a ear deafening shriek was heard. Harleen approached him, like an eagle flying towards a snake.

The “it” looked at the monster he had created, with the eye he could still see with. Her eyes had lost their focus point, her knees were shaking, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she was smiling.

It was like the times he gave her that drug. She had turned into a bloodthirsty animal.

Harleen launched forward, with the knitting needle still in her hand. She stabbed him in the shoulder, using both of her hands to bury it deep enough. The madman tried to get her off himself, but was stopped with a terrible string of pain caused by Harleen suddenly pulling the needle out. Everytime he tried to push her away, he was met with the sharp end of a blade. When he tried to protest, the little girl waved the weapon around randomly and god knew he didn’t want to loose his other eye as well.

Then he noticed the kitchen knife. The knife he threw away when Harleen first pricked him. The knife which fell on the floor after it was thrown at the wall.

His fingers creeped towards the knife’s handle as another stab landed on his thigh. He gritted his teeth, trying to bear the tormenting pain and grabbed the wooden handle of the knife. He smiled to himself, thinking he’d finally win. Until he felt someone’s stare.

He turned towards Harleen, who had noticed the knife he held in his hand. Her look was frozen, like there wasn’t any kind of soul behind those blue eyes. Her gaze landed on his eyes, her face having the same soulless expression. They looked at each other for a bare second, then both of them attacked.

Raising his arm, the “it” aimed to bury the knife in her chest before that knitting needle could do any more harm. He knew Harleen was dead the point he got the hold of his knife. There was no way a five year old could be faster than him.

But the feeling of the pointy metal on his Adams apple proved him wrong.

And that was one of the only sensation he ever got to feel after.

An animalistic growl ripped from the back of Harleen’s throat as she pushed the needle deeper. The monster’s knife holding hand froze in midair, a wave of pulsation passed through it, as the “it” grunted in shock. He moaned, without being able to speak, but clearly begging his daughter to stop.

But the child’s mind was oblivious to any kind of outside context at that point. The individual behind her eyes was locked up deep inside. Unable to show any mercy.

Not that she would show any if she was in her right mind anyway.

So she pushed it deeper, as she started screaming. She couldn’t hear the man’s grunts, she couldn’t hear the flesh being torn apart; although it had been her only dream to feel him suffer. Soon, his body went limp under hers and his hand which grabbed the knife fell on the floor with a loud clack. His fingers around it’s handle loosened when Harleen pulled the needle out in one swift motion.

Tears concluding her vision, her own screams and sobs echoing in her brain and the wet and sticky feeling of blood taking over her skin; the child did not realize he was already dead. She didn’t even remember the difference between the dead and the alive.

So she continued, not caring about the blood loss and nausea, she just continued pricking him. Harleen couldn’t stop anymore; she stabbed his chest, his other eye, his forehead… over and over again as multiple sobs shook her body.

When her mind had snapped, the bottle didn’t fall down into the precipice of madness, as madness wanted it to. It all backfired, so instead of falling; the bottle engulfed everything inside, including the precipice. But now; since it engulfed everything else, the bottle stood there… In the middle of a mass nothingness.

***

Edgar Beowulf had been a dead man for fourteen years. Was he sick? Yes, very. Was the problem in his liver since he had been drinking a lot for the past couple of years? Maybe, not incurable though. Was the real problem in his heart? Yes, he swore he had a hole in the middle of it. He knew alcohol wouldn’t fix it but if he was drunk enough, he could still imagine his heart was a whole.

He had been trying to find where that missing piece went for fourteen years, but after all of his struggles he always came back empty handed. The great Severe Edgar; who was known for knowing  everything, did not have a clue about where that missing piece of his heart had gone. His henchmen worked so hard to make him happy, since they had a great amount of respect for the mafia boss, but no one could. They couldn’t even make themselves happy.

Since the piece missing from Edgar’s heart was also a part of their hearts, they missed it.

Therefore, the great empire of Edgar Beowulf had been dying like it’s emperor and their main hideout that had always been the symbol of power had turned into a funeral home.

The old man refilled his shot glass one more time, immediately downing the tequila right after. He was in his office, where no one could see anyone due to the thick cigarette smoke. He had bags under his eyes and his eyebrows were knitted, making him look at least ten years older than he actually was. His hair had turned completely white and he had scars on his wrist. He was humming a melody, a pleasant memory from the times of his youth. He remembered the days he sang this nursery rhyme to the baby in his arms.

The little treasure of his life.

That little girl of his, was always worth a lot more than his great empire of knowledge. She had grown into a beautiful woman as the time passed, admired by all mafia organizations. She was known by the nickname, “Silver”. She had the ability to draw her knives out so quickly that all one could see is a silver light, shining in front of their eyes before they gave in to the eternity of darkness. Edgar could remember the days he taught her how to use a knife: the little girl would wake him up in the middle of the night; ecstatic; to tell him that she would finally hit the hundred points on the target board this time, as he patiently watched her, trying not to burst her bubble. He’d then have to comfort her as she cried, after hundreds of unsuccessful tries.

Damn, just how much he had missed those days…

It had all started with that man… the bastard was nothing more than an undisciplined drug lord. The thing he wanted to hire Edgar for was elementary for an emperor like him and it brought him easy money. So, he accepted his job offer.

Oh, how foolish he was then…

That rookie had started to hang out with his daughter too much, always trying to impress her. At first, he hadn’t interfered; thinking his princess wouldn’t even spare a peasant like him a single look. His thought didn’t change until he caught them making out in his office.

Edgar and his daughter had a huge quarrel that night.

Let’s be honest, Severe Edgar was a jealous father. But he wasn’t a five year old, he was sensible. If he had found a lamp with a genie inside of it, granting him only one wish; he would wish for his daughter’s happiness. Therefore, if she fell in love with a man that really cherished her; he wouldn’t try to keep her away from him. In his fifty three years of lifetime, there were two things that made him feel like he was the luckiest man alive. First was, falling in love with her mother and the second was having her in his arms. Why would he want to prevent her from being as happy as him? He would prefer to be dead if his existence prevented his daughter from being happy.

But he knew that bastard wasn’t the “one”, he was a sociopath who just wanted a pretty face to look at. And Edgar Beowulf wasn’t stupid enough to believe he just “sold” those drugs. He would harm his daughter, for sure.

So, the next day; after he woke up, when he found a note that was left by his daughter saying she had run off with him to get hitched he wasn’t that angry…

He was absolutely terrified.

It wasn’t the feeling of the disappointment and anger after you lose a match, it was when your three year old came dangerously close to the fireplace and reached out it’s little hand, because the fire looked so appealing to it.

But that fear had only lasted a minute or two. Suddenly, Edgar realized who he was. He could stop them before everything went too crazy, he knew everything. He could find where his daughter ran off to. The rookie who took her away was a stupid youngster.

But it didn’t turn out to be as easy as he expected it to be.

No matter what he and his henchmen had done, it didn’t work. His daughter and her good for nothing lover had vanished into thin air! Who in the world could hide something from Severe Edgar and become successful keeping it?

It didn’t matter, his daughter was gone.

Harry Cooper watched as the man he admired sulk in his chair, tired of living. He wasn’t his henchmen before his renowned daughter’s disappearance, so sadly, he only had gotten to see his hero in this state. He had been a part of this empire for just two years, he was still a rookie in the job. He was an expert in infighting and he was quite smart; but sadly he was nothing but more than that, he wasn’t qualified to be his henchman. The truth is, Harry’s father and Edgar used to be best friends in the army, before his father was shot to death. So, when he met Harry two years ago, waiting to be hired as a bodyguard without becoming successful; he took him in with him.

His father told Harry a lot of heroic stories about the man known as Severe Edgar before he was killed, so when Harry met the childhood hero of his in that state; he swore he’d find his daughter and make him happy again. He owed him that.

And he had been working hard for two years without becoming successful.

Until that moment.

His friend had been injured and broke his leg last week, being hospitalized in a small hospital in Gotham for a few days. When he went there to visit him, he saw a woman running past the halls while crying and he could swear she was identical to the one he saw in those photographs hanging all around in the office of Edgar. When he asked a nurse about the woman, all he could get was that she was just here to visit her daughter who was also hospitalized here.

But he didn’t stop there.

With the right amount of money, he managed to make one of the rookie doctors speak. Harry learned that the little girl was in a bad condition and everyone knew that her father had beaten her up this way. But no one could speak up since everyone feared him for some reason. He also managed to get the family’s home address from the patient’s file when the doctor wasn’t looking.

He cleared his throat suddenly, making Edgar Beowulf raise his head faint heartedly to look at him.

“I have a lead, sir.”

***

Forty five armed men had surrounded the house, waiting for the signal to attack. Twenty snipers had broken into other houses to have a better view of the house. There seemed to be no movements inside, so everyone was probably sleeping. They didn’t want to wake the whole neighborhood up, since it could just be a false alarm; so they climbed the wall surrounding the garden and looked for other entrances that didn’t involve blowing up the front door.

Harry was the first too see the open window.

With a signal of his hand, Edgar and twenty of his henchmen crawled on the wet grass with guns in their hands, like a swat team. Harry climbed first and looked at the room he was in. It seemed like a teen girl’s room by the looks of it, but it was empty.

“Clear.”, he whispered as the other henchmen continued to pour inside. Just as he was about to exit the room, Edgar put his hand on his shoulder; leaning closer to him as he whispered: “Take ten of them with you.”, he pointed at the goons, “…and search the first floor. We will cover the ground floor.”

Harry nodded and signaled half of the twenty men to escort him upstairs. They exited the bedroom together, passing through the hall covered in red carpet. Fortunately, the hall opened directly to the staircase. Two of the henchmen got ahead of Harry as they held their guns in shooting positions. As soon as one of them took his first step on the stairs, the goons were startled by the creaking sound which echoed through the halls. Almost immediately, the three men on the back of the crowd; turned back as they aimed their guns at the obscurity of the darkness, guarding their back in case someone dangerous had heard the creak.

The two goons at the front checked the floor and signaled Harry and the others to come. Harry clenched his fist, climbing up the stairs as he cocked his ear for any kind of sound. The seven other men climbed up the stairs as well and looked at Harry, waiting for the gesture of his hand.

As soon as he gave them the permission, ten men invaded the floor; splitting up into two and running to the ends of the hall. They would start searching from the ends, till they would meet in the middle. Room by room, the goons quietly opened the doors to see if anyone was inside.

Harry waited them in the middle, where the staircase stood, he had to guard the stairs. He aimed at the stairway, waiting for any unknown face to appear.

But the door behind him, right in the middle of the floor ;which was slightly left ajar; weirdly intrigued him. Even after the years that would pass, Harry would never be able to explain why he left guarding the stairs; but instead opened that door to check inside. It was as if the room was calling him, telling that something wrong had happened there. So, as his instincts kicked in, he reached out his hand and pushed the door open.

His feet hit something soft after he walked in there. He tried to see what it was, but the room was too dark for him to see anything at all. He grabbled around for a light switch on the wall. When he felt the cold plastic at the tip of his fingers, he pressed on it as the room filled with light. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light, as the other goons noticed the light.

Then they heard Harry gasp.

They ran to him, panicking; when they found him in the room, staring at the ground in shock. Three of them pulled him out of the room, getting ahead of him as they unknowingly pointed their guns at the object he was looking at, thinking it was something dangerous.

The one with the long hair vomited first.

There lied a severed head of an infant. With her blue eyes, staring right at them, her jaw was slightly dislocated, blood dried on her neck area. Ten men were hypnotized and frankly, frightened; they couldn’t get their eyes off the baby, until Harry woke them up from their trance.

Walking towards the crib, Harry got the attention of all the goons in the room. In the crib, laid the baby’s headless corpse; wearing an onesie decorated with yellow baby chicks. The henchmen held their guns down, completely forgetting their own safety as they watched the traumatizing scene unfolding in front of them. Until another nightmare woke them up from this horrible nightmare.

Edgar Beowulf’s animalistic scream.

They immediately ran to where the sound came from. They all knew the scene they would see, but still, they were not ready for it. As they came closer, hearing the sobs, they knew their biggest nightmare had come to life.

The thing they saw first was Edgar’s trembling body, crouched down. He held a woman in his embrace, they could see her legs. After Harry saw the baby upstairs, he didn’t want to see the corpse of the woman. Everyone understood who she was. The ten goons headed towards the other crowd of henchmen, finally seeing what they never wanted to see.

Edgar hugged his dead daughter’s corpse, caressing her hair while having a breakdown. Her throat was slit, blood staining her father’s clothes. All of the henchmen were looking at their boss with visible worry in their eyes. Severe Edgar closed his daughter’s eyes with his fingers as he kissed her fingertips one by one. It was right then, he saw that thing.

The wedding band on her ring finger.

Roaring like a madman, he took the ring off and threw it away. He left his daughter’s lifeless body on the hall’s carpet, heading towards the only place he hadn’t searched: the living room. His goons shouted in terror, it was dangerous for him to go in head first, without having his weapon ready, in that state. Harry, knowing nothing would stop him at that point, ran towards him; aiming to assist him. Quickly, the others followed; barging into the living room together.

The first thing they saw with the help of the light emanating from the window was the teenage girl’s body, bleeding from her neck. Then they noticed the young boy on the floor, laying on top of colorful yarns and needles scattered around. They stared at the horrible scene in front of them until they heard the sound.

Splurt…

A weird, disgusting sound; coming from right beside them. One of the goons turned on the light switch as where the sound came from was revealed.

A little girl, in a blue dress, hair disheveled leaned onto the body of a… man. Though at least a thousand witnesses would be required to call that tattered and torn mass of human flesh a “man”.

Splurt…

The girl had done it again. Raising the huge knitting needle in her hand, she stabbed the mass of human flesh; making the goons understand the reason of the man’s corpse’s condition.

The girl had riddled him to death. Harry wondered how many stabs it took to turn his body into that state. His attention was then turned towards the huge slit on her back, blood still oozing from it. The girl seemed to be dizzy from the blood loss, yet, she didn’t stop.

Edgar was frozen in his spot, unable to move. He stare at the scene before him. Had this little girl killed his daughter? Impossible… Who was she? Why was she doing th…

His thoughts were disturbed by the thing he saw. The riddled man’s corpse. He looked at his hand, seeing the wedding band and the knife resting on top of his palm. No doubt it was used to slit his daughter’s throat. He stumbled towards the corpse and it’s killer, stuttering:

“Stop… you killed him already.”

The girl turned her head towards the men standing before her in one swift motion. Her eyes were full of determination and hatred, but her expression changed into shock soon after. It was like… she hadn’t realized they had been here for a while. She looked at Edgar with the same expression on her countenance, then turned back to what she was doing; as if she stilldidn’t realize he had been already dead.

Edgar gasped when he saw the child’s face, a complete replica of his daughter’s. He felt weak on the knees and fell on them as he continued to look at the blood leaking from her back.

Harry saw the little girl get dizzy, when her hand trembled as she was about to stab the corpse one more time. He launched forward, to yank the weapon away from her hand. The girl saw what he was doing out of the corner of her eye and jumped off the corpse. She waved the needle at him while she screamed like an animal, cutting his hand as he was yanked away by the other henchmen in the room.

It seemed his action had awakened something in her. Without stopping screaming, she held the needle with both hands an started pricking the corpse faster. She landed a stab on him every second and every time she landed a stab on him, she grunted. The henchmen noticed her lips quivering and her left eye twitching as a shriek escaped her mouth. There was no emotion behind her eyes, except hatred. Harry regained his composure as he approached the girl to try one more time, but was stopped by the trembling hand of his boss.

Edgar had slowly crawled on fours towards the child. As she was fully focused on killing the monster completely, he reached out and put his hand on her head; slowly caressing her hair. The girl’s body stiffened for a second and she opened her mouth to scream again, but was stopped by Edgar’s agonized voice:

“I’m sorry…”

Her body shivered as the pauses between her stabs became longer. Edgar crawled towards her, getting even closer. He caressed her cheek gently, before holding her hair away from her face. The next time he spoke, the tears in his eyes were audible in his voice, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner…”. The girl was started silently sobbing as well, the hateful expression on her face changing into a surprised one again: she couldn’t understand why she was crying, she didn’t know who these men were, she didn’t know what she was doing.

She didn’t know who she was.

“You can stop…”, he continued.

No, she didn’t want to stop. He was a curse, the moment she stopped he would haunt her again. She didn’t want to see his face, she was afraid she would remember it all again.

A stab landed on the man’s face.

He was unstoppable… she would be as well. He would follow her to her dreams, turning them into nightmares again. She was the only one left for him to hurt. The only one… that’s right… he couldn’t hurt mommy anymore, since mommy could love him no more.

“He can’t hurt 'you’ anymore.”, Edgar sobbed.

The needle in her hand fell down, as soon as those words left Edgar’s mouth. Harleen turned towards the old man and looked at him with tears in her eyes, those eyes pleading him to tell her those were all just terrible dreams.

But Harleen didn’t need to hear the truth from his mouth to see it. Her eyes just focused on the sofa behind the man, where she saw her sibling’s corpses. Her eyes glued onto the hole on her sister’s neck, she suddenly remembered how she got her weapon.

And then screamed in terror.

Edgar Beowulf  took his granddaughter in his embrace, holding her wrists to prevent her from clawing her own face and burying her face in his chest as he patted on the little girl’s hair. Intermittent sobs were shaking her whole body, as she was having an hysteria crisis. As dizziness started to overpower her consciousness the whimpers died down. Edgar left her wrists, as they embraced each other while crying, in front of the monster who took their life away from them. The old man wiped the blood away from the snow white skin as he kissed her cheek.

The henchmen were at loss of what to do, before Harry Cooper came forward: taking off his jacket as he loosely put it on them. He looked at them for a few seconds, until he felt a slight movement from behind the window.

He turned towards the window, the white things he saw filling his heart with even more sorrow.

And at that night, the Emperor embraced the only thing left for him to continue living, as the first snowflakes of the year landed on the roof of a giant cemetery.

@diyunho

@thefaultinourstudying

@padaassisdabest

@alexiamariai

@madelynoops

@loverhuskys

@michaelsfringe1995

Guys, I am so sorry if I made you sad, but since the first chapter this kinda was my plan. Either way, did you think the child’s story would turn out this way? Do you understand the reason behind Edgar’s protectiveness? I hope you’ll be happy to hear that you’ll get to learn Chaos’ identity in the next chapter. Btw, let me clarify: the drug the “it” did was meth; which, against common belief; causes only minor hallucinations due to sleep deprivation. So, when he heard Harleen giggle when in fact she hadn’t moved her mouth; when he heard her voice a couple notes higher and when he saw her smirk as she was pulling the needle away… those were all minor hallucinations, Harleen wasn’t that creepy…

[withchalkandkaijublue]

. @science-rockstars As always, the keys jammed in the lock. Newt tried to jiggle his hand a little, huffing in frustration. Damn this fuckin door! He then tried to pull the keys back, but apparently they were now stuck in there. Putting his forehead on the door of his overpaid apartment and closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. One in, one out. That wasn’t working as well as he had hoped, which wasn’t actually so surprising since that had been a bad day on different levels, some of them totally unrelated to each other. That morning the conference had been a completely disaster. Ok, maybe not so catastrophic as he was making it, but he had worked hard on that paper, and honestly, the giggling he had heard when struggling with the wire from the damn projector hadn’t helped. At all. He felt like he was back at MIT, which was true, but at the time when he still was a totally weird genius teen apparently not adequate for social life. Before the all “nerdrockstarsavioroftheworld” story. It had been a hell of a week. He sighed. Had been a hell of a year. And he seriously didn’t want to remind when, after making a total fool of himself like the uncoordinated juggler of the unfolding wires, he magically managed to throw his cup of coffee on the shirt of the old-and-bald head of the engineering department, who wasn’t the biggest fan of him from the beginning. Like I still have some fan left. Like I still have someone left. In a sudden fit of anger, he scrunched his eyes and kicked the door as hard as his boot allowed. Which was actually a lot. He felt a muffled click coming from the lock and when he tried to turn the key, it did it smoothly. Entering and closing the door behind him, Newt put his back on it and started to stretch out his skinny tie, dropping his bag on the floor and toeing out his boots. Padding to the open kitchen, he brewed the umpteenth cup of coffee of that miserable day. Glancing around, he took note of the mess that was his home: papers were scattered on every surface, the coffee table was vanished under piles of folders, unbalanced empty cups and his other laptop. His couch hosted the significant presence of one of his three guitars, and he was pretty sure the plant next the window had been dead for a considerable time, now. Deciding not to add a pet to that has revealed to be a wise idea, after all. Gloomily, he opened the freezer, looking for some ice cream in the unhoped possibility to enlighten his mood, but he was faced by test tubes and petri dishes left there to preserve part of his pet project. Giving up, he closed the lid and moved to his bedroom. For reasons he tried not to dwell upon too much, it was spotless. Not because he didn’t sleep there, because he did –not so much, but he did. Mostly because he reminded him of someone else room. Someone tidier, neater and made of straight lines.   Someone he had shared a lot with. Time. Space. Mind. Strangely, he never entered that person’s room, but he could still see it. It has not been a conscious decision, back when he moved in that flat, to not put posters on the walls if not for the chemical table one affixed precisely on the center of the headboard. He had cluttered all his action figures and paraphernalia and had put them in the living room. His Newt Cave. This one belonged in part to someone else. Someone he hadn’t heard from for more than two years. Someone who hadn’t been close to him since the time they met. After that… Well, he didn’t truly know what had happened, after. He didn’t know what had happened for the following eight years; the push and pull, the arguing, the rivalry. He used not to be like that. And even after saving the world together- well, helping save the world, merging their mind with a giant alien creature, he still didn’t know a qualm about it. Looking at his walk-in closet, he bit his bottom lip and scratched his arm. Thoughtlessly, he got inside and picked the box on the top shelf; it was full to the brim and the lid couldn’t actually fit to close it. Then he put the cup of lukewarm coffee on the floor and, box under his arm, he sat on the bed. He spread old photos and postcards on the duvet, laughing at some and getting nostalgic on others. Despite what one sane person could think, he missed those times; rushing everywhere, pushing on every human limit, finding a solution to save the humankind from extinction. And they did it. They did it, man. Nothing has been as thrilling as living on the brick of annihilation. And like that, puff, nothing more. Where has everyone gone? No more blaring of the siren for a Kaiju appearance, no more sharing a bench with techs in the mess hall, no more tiny cubicles for room. The clock zeroed and swallowed that life so fast it had made his head spin. Someone should have had told him that the compass needle never set itself right again, after something like that; than when you lose the North, it’s gone. Tendo tried to bring up the topic, the day after the victory but he was still high on adrenaline, so full of self-esteemed and Hermann. He had been happy, the day after. Truly happy and finally, oh so finally, right. He was almost forty and was not going to deny that that day he felt good. Good as you can feel when, going to the cinema to see a long waited movie, you find the perfect seat, right there for you. Comfortable and relaxing. Finally able to stay unmoving for hours, without the unstopping buzz of his head there to torment him. He found a spot on the shelf of Hermann’s mind, that day, and he sat there, feeling a belonging he never experienced before. That spot, that little place, had his name on it, and he took it as it was natural to do. He thought he would stay there until the very end, but time passed away, they got separate ways, and without notice, he was out of Hermann’s life, and his head. Newt felt a lump forming in his throat, and putting away the memorabilia, he aimed for the most precious and painful of his possessions.                                                                                                                           September 3, 2013

 ...We are, indeed, presented with something unprecedented, so we have to take into consideration what has still to be considerate. Also, I agree with you, it’s meant to happen again…

                                                                                                                            September 22, 2013 ... I’d gladly give you my help, if you’d ever require it. I’ll be frank, it’s truly a relief to make the acquaintance of a bright mind as yours, deeply engaged in to find a solution to what apparently anyone else bother to consider as a real threat...

   April 15, 2014 ... My schedule is unnervingly hectic, lately. I feel I’m wasting my scarce time as few individuals understand what’s happening. The truth, my friend, is that we were not ready for something of this gargantuan scale. But I guess we never thought we have to face it so soon.                                                                                                                        

July 30, 2014             ... It has become far more promising that I thought. It’s happening, finally. We are preparing to fight back; a prototype is already available but we still lack the how’s and whys of a proper functionality. If pressured, I’ll admit we are encountering unpleasant issues. If only I had at my disposition your supervision, I’m certain we could grab the bull for the proverbial horns ...            May 14, 2015                                                                                                                    As you are very well aware, simply because I’ve kept pestering you about it, some weeks ago I presented my application to be part of the newly formed Jaeger Academy and today I have received the answer. I’ve been admitted. Since I took part in the very jading process of creating the machine which name they borrowed, I guess is a no actual surprise. Nevertheless, I’m happy and I’ll borrow myself two of your most recurrent expressions: “Show time, rockstar”. Wish me luck.

August 17, 2016 It came to my notice, through your repeated announcements, that you have been admitted at the Jaeger Academy. Very well done, my friend. Congratulations. I’ll take this as an opportunity to query you about the material nature of the garments you intend to bring as the weather in that blasting island is beyond intolerable. I struggle to understand as human kind has managed to live in that freezing hell long enough to build functional cities...                                                                                                                 February 28, 2017 … I hope you are aware I consider you the most precious friend I have, if you let me be so impertinent. I highly value your opinion in any matter; a fact I hope I’ve made abundantly clear in this years of correspondence. Still, I find myself wondering how would be to finally shake your hand. If you are amenable, we could meet at the conference which will take place in five weeks from today, in Bejiing. I’m attending as a representative of the Jaeger modelling panel, in the 13th sector. I would be very honored to make your acquaintance, finally. Your friend, Hermann The stinging of his eyes was becoming embarrassing, and unbearable. Standing up abruptly, Newt rushed out the room leaving everything on the bed, reached for the fridge and pulled out a beer, thinking twice, he put it back with unsteady hands, moved near the front door and after slipping in his boots, grabbed his bag and got out, leading for his favorite place in that damn city: Boston Public Library.  After have settled his laptop and notes, hoping to distract himself with some amendments to his presentation, he found out his plane was lacking of any determination from his part. Such a glutton for pain... He stayed there for hours, doing nothing if not staring the blank monitor of his pc, his mind looping on a oh-so-terrible idea, pounding inside his skull like the giant heart of an extinct alien. His hands moved on the keyboards, opening his email inbox but then he stopped. He wasn’t looking for a nice virtual catch up with probably the most important man of his scientific life. He wanted something impressive but not so much, he wanted something old, actually. Something he didn’t even know it ever truly existed. But the pounding was now a high thrilling sound and his own heart seems very inclined to perform a mild stroke.  Something old, something old, old, old like chalk and tweed and a dumb old fashioned military haircut. And there he was. Turning on his side, he picked up his bag and after a thoroughly rummaging, he pulled out a stack of stationery papers with an excited “A-ha!” promptly shushed by the old librarian who glared at him. Plastering an awkward and apologetic smile, he mouthed “Sorry! Sorry!” and immediately moved to spread out the paper. Ok! We’re doin’it, Newt, my man! What a genius you are! Goodgoodgood! He picked up a pen and stayed like that for half an hour, petrified by self doubts and the sudden escape of his notorious chattiness. Because of course his traitor mind had waited until the very last moment to make its usual trick. What if he stopped corresponding to get rid of me for good? But who did it first? I don’t remember. Maybe he is happy I disappeared from his life, maybe he’s busy, maybe he has his house, his job - he had a wife, right? A beautiful woman. And a baby on his way. Why should he want to hear for the nuisance of his past? Maybe this is a terrible idea, no, it’s definitely a terrible idea. I have so many of them if a had a penny for each one I would be billionaire. So, no, no abort mission. abort abort abort . Scheiße! What the fucking was I thinking, he doesn’t want to hear from me, he doesn’t want his life ruined again because I’m a little clingy shit, he doesn’t want - Newton. QUIET.   He gasped. Loudly. And the librarian shushed him again, with more vigor, but this time he barely noticed. He heard that. Did he? That sounded like Hermann voice. In his head, again. But he was sure that was impossible, the connection had faded after few months from the drift. Still, it worked.  Looking down on the white paper, suddenly all the words that had escaped to him came back, at full force, like the crashing of a wave on the cliff.  He gripped the pen and started to write, before everything got confused or slipped away.  Dear Hermann, how things are going on? It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I stumbled upon something and you came in mind so I started wondering how was dealing my old pen pal. Last time I heard about you, there was a serious proposition for the Professorship (note the capital p!) of mathematical modelling (note the absence of any capital letter) at Oxford waiting for you, out of the Shatterdome. Wow! Actually, I can see you, while you have your classes, scowling to everyone because they can’t see the true greatness of p. Are you having any fun there? I’m not bad myself, keeping busy, teaching adoring young minds yadda yadda. It’s been honestly a hell of a long time. In a way, I kinda miss you. With your horribile attitude wrapped in tweed. No, seriously, I would like to hear about you, and your family, of course!  Came on, don’t be a stranger! Your old friend and rockstar, Newt He exhaled a long breath he didn’t even know he was holding. It was a horrible letter, short and too cheeky, and he hated it but that was the best he could do without looking like a desperate asshole that apparently hadn’t still gotten out of his young crush.  Stuffing the letter in his envelope, he rushed out of the library before the black coil of commiseration swallowed him once again. Finding a mailbox almost immediately, he pushed the missive inside with more strength than necessary and then hurriedly stepped back.  Ok, no time to go back now.  He stayed next to it for few minutes then, feeling more stupid that he could handle at the moment, he turned away and walked home.