#i had it on my arm in middle school and went insane from the itch

[clanoffelidae]

Trying in vain to explain to the cats that we can’t cuddle for a few days bc I have ringworm on my leg 😔

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders​ 

[15-dogs]

chapter 2 - burning pile

pairing: fred weasley x reader

series masterlist

summary: your son asks you a tough question about his father, causing you to reflect on the exact moment you decided what you were going to tell him

warnings: children, the war, mentions of death, getting disowned, description of broken limbs, very light swearing, pregnancy mention

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 2.4K 

a/n: if your url is crossed out that means i couldn’t tag you! if you want to be added to my taglist for this, either comment or send an ask :) hope you like it!!

●chapter 2●

“Everyone at school has one,” your son stated, “how come I don’t have a dad?”

You clenched your eyes shut. You knew this was coming at some point, but 8 years old seemed far too soon. You smiled softly at your son, Daniel, as you patted your lap. He clambered onto you and you ran your hand through his fiery red hair, wondering how you could explain something so broken to someone so young.

●●●

You ran into the war alone. You were part of no affiliation, no friends by your side, you only knew who you were fighting for. 

Your son, nearly 2 years old at the time, was at your muggle neighbor’s flat. You couldn’t bring him to your muggle parents, not when they disowned you for finding out about your accidental pregnancy.

That’s why you were fighting. For him. For Danny. He needed to grow up in a world where blood status didn’t matter, where he didn’t need to be concerned about having a future or not. For Danny. You had to repeat it to yourself over and over again. For Danny. For Danny.

The war, like wars often were, was ugly. Rubble coating the grounds and bodies peeking out from under it. Being at such a broken place that was once filled with hope and joy was like seeing a photo go black and white.

You did your best to assist where you could, seeing people you went to school with falling lifeless onto the ground. They had families, they had parents that loved them. That was somebody’s child who was chasing death, and you were not about to let them get caught. You would jump in just in time to save them, feeling that was your best bet at contributing to the cause.

So you wandered the halls of the castle, seeking trouble. But, as it always does, trouble seems to find you. A Death Eater appeared from behind one of the many staircases, firing a spell at you. You barely dodged it, slipping behind a pillar, your heart pounding in your ears. You imagined what it would be like to have someone beside you but you couldn’t dwell, you were facing life and death.

You readied your wand before popping out from your hiding spot, firing a stunning spell at the man. He blocked it, but it sent him skyrocketing backwards into another hallway.

You had just found your target, there was no way you’d let him escape. You charged after where you had left him, only to find him missing. Your eyes locked onto a trail of blood that dotted from where you stood to a hallway, which just so happened to have sparks flying from it.

You rounded the corner to see two redheads battling two Death Eaters, your feet bolting to the ground.

It was Fred.

He was laughing at something Percy had said as they battled the men. He looked so...grown up. It had only been 2 years since you last saw him, but he looked different. He seemed genuinely happy. 

But it wasn’t the time to focus on such trivial things, not when the Death Eater you were battling was sneaking up on Fred. Both men were unaware of the cloaked person sneaking up on them, so you decided you needed to take action.

Fred was Molly’s son. If she lost him, she’d be devastated, broken beyond repair. You knew what it was like to have a child, and if you lost him, you didn’t know what you’d do. Danny was all you had and Merlin forbid anyone were to take him away from you.

As those thoughts coursed through your mind, adrenaline coursed through your veins. You watched as the Death Eater you were tracking snuck up on Fred and Percy, your wand readied as you waited with bated breath for the two to move out of the way. However, as the man approached, the brothers didn’t move. Your whole body was itching with anxieties, your eyes flickering towards the shadows. But as the man raised his wand, you couldn’t wait any longer; there were human lives at stake, one of which just happened to be your ex boyfriend.

“Fred, Percy! Get down!” you shouted as you revealed yourself from your hiding space. 

The Death Eater was distracted by your declaration, pausing in his mission to cast the spell. Fred, too, was distracted by your presence, leading to Percy dragging him onto the ground alongside himself. As soon as they were clear, you shot a spell at a pillar beside the man, the cracked tiles crashing down on his legs, trapping him underneath. He let out a shrill cry of pain, his face contorting into something awful that made you almost sorry for him. However, you didn’t want to take the risk that he was the devil in disguise, putting on an act just to garner sympathy from you.

“Stupefy!” you cried, freezing the man in his place.

As soon as the area was clear, you pocketed your wand and ran to the Weasley brothers. You slid onto the ground beside Percy, helping him up.

“Lovely to see you again, (Y/N),” he commented. 

You cringed but put on your best smile. “Been a long time, Percy.”

You recalled the last time you’d seen the stern boy, the one time that Fred took you home for the holidays. His family had welcomed you in open arms and made you quite jealous; your family wasn’t so affectionate.

When you got kicked out of your own house at 18, you weren’t really shocked. Your mother had never truly approved of you and Fred so she had been expecting something of that “sinful nature” for years now. 

When she had kicked you out, you couldn’t even gather most of your things as you found her burning them in the backyard in an old fire pit. You were only slightly shocked that time. Your mother had a saying: put all your troubles on a burning pile because when it’s all lit up, you’ll start to smile. That saying, of course, wasn’t true, nor did you think she took the meaning literally. When you walked outside to speak with her one last time— a regretful decision, you knew— her tears were illuminated on her cheeks from the flames that kissed her.

“You look good, seeing as how you helped Fred and I narrowly escape death, so thanks again for that.” Percy glanced down at Fred, kicking him with his foot. “Suppose you want to hear it from him, too.”

You half expected Fred to say something smart or, at the very least, notice that it was you who saved his life but he didn’t say anything. Come to think of it, he didn’t even move. 

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. You fell to your knees, hovering over Fred’s lifeless body. No, no! You were supposed to be saving him! What did you do?

“Oh, Merlin,” whispered Percy, his pale skin turning even paler. He, too, sank to his knees, shaking Fred’s body. “Oh, shit. Fred! This isn’t funny! Wake up, please!”

As a parent, you had to be aware of your surroundings at all times. Danny was rarely out of your sight, and if he ever got hurt you knew the play by play of what happened. That little skill came in great use as you stared at Fred’s body in the patch of rubble.

“He wasn’t hit,” you assured Percy, “this is shock.” You held your middle and pointer fingers close together, pressing them under his jaw in search of his pulse. As soon as you felt the soft beating against the pads of your fingers, you let out a happy gasp.

“What is it? What are you doing?” Percy scrambled to replicate your actions, pushing your hand aside and replacing it with his.

“That’s his heartbeat. It’s faint but it’s there. We need to take him to the Great Hall so he can get patched up.”

Percy let out a relieved sigh, tears falling down his cheeks carelessly. With the sparks that were being shot from outside the castle, it illuminated his face just right so that it reminded you of your mother. In his hands was Fred— your problem— and the glaring reality became apparent that you desperately wanted to run away from it.

With the wards down at Hogwarts, you could apparate inside the castle. Unable to pick Fred up, you and Percy pushed him up against a wall, his head drooping onto his chest and back slouched. 

“I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, if that’s okay?” Percy asked. You frowned. “I want to check on George, he’s been missing for a bit.”

“Yeah, go check on your brother, I can take care of Fred.” The words left a sour taste in your mouth but you couldn’t help but feel a familiar sense of warmth blossom in your chest as his name rolled off your tongue.

You reluctantly slid up next to him and slung his arm around your shoulder before apparating away. When you arrived in the Great Hall, nobody even realized you were there. You let Fred rest against a wall while you tracked down Pomfrey, who was hurriedly mixing some salve together, an unpleasant earthy aroma drifting your way.

“Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pomfrey!” You waved your hand wildly in the air, the color draining from her face at the sight of Fred behind you.

“Oh, Godric.” The words escaped her lips like a dying man’s last breath as she ran up to you two.

You took her wrist and ducked to meet her eyes, shaking your head. “He’s not dead, he’s just unconscious.”

Pomfrey gripped at her apron as she let out a shaky sigh. She lifted her head up to the sky, hoping that Merlin himself would dry her eyes. Once she had regained composure, she chuckled slightly at the insanity of the situation.

“Unconscious,” she repeated, pointing at you, “that’s something I can fix. Help me get him to that cot right there, dear.”

You nodded and helped Pomfrey drag him to the sheet on the ground right beside you. She rifled through her apron, the many pockets holding vials of wonders. 

“I haven’t seen you in quite some time, Miss (Y/L/N),” Pomfrey noted. She paused, her eyes flickering up at you for just a moment. “Or is it missus, now?”

You flexed your hand in silent rage— you hated those questions. “No, I’m not married, but I appreciate your concern.”

Pomfrey frowned slightly, her eyes moving down towards your stomach before drifting back towards her pockets. She whispered a quiet “aha!” and pulled a long tube full of amber liquid out, uncorking and pouring it into Fred’s limp mouth.

You sank onto the floor beside Fred, resting your back against the wall. Pomfrey looked at you like a mother staring at a lost child. You finally met her gaze, brows knit together.

“How’s your kid?” she asked.

Your eyes flitted to Fred; he was still asleep. “He’s good. He’s safe. Staying with a muggle neighbor at her flat for the time being.”

“He?”

“Yeah, Daniel— Danny. He hates when I call him Daniel.”

A reluctant grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a wallet-sized, moving photo of you and your son. He was a small boy with fiery ginger hair and loads of freckles covering his face. You spun him around before shrugging him onto your back, him hiding his laughter into your hair.

Pomfrey snorted. She glanced between the photo in her delicate hands, the sleeping boy beside you, and your sunken eyes. “He takes after his father.”

You pocketed the photo, scoffing. “He doesn’t need to know that.”

“Mr. Weasley or Danny?”

“Both.”

Pomfrey shook her head but not truly disapproving of you. You avoided her stare and your eyes happened to get caught on a person waving, causing Pomfrey to turn around as well. She nodded, understanding that they were beckoning her. “Would you stay here with him? I need to care for some others.”

“Won’t be a problem.”

She nodded a quick thanks before scurrying off to the other side of the Great Hall. 

And then you were alone with Fred.

Your eyes roved over his body, mentally taking pictures of how he changed. No matter how hard you tried, the images of Fred the night before he left were seared in your mind. He looked different, like he’d seen things he never intended to. His eyes had a slight depth to them and his skin coarse with dirt.

You didn’t really mean to, but your heart has a funny way of dictating things. You reached your hand out, linking your pinky with his. As soon as you touched, you felt a spark in your chest. No sooner did you touch him than you jumped away.

Your mother might have been right. Problems need to be thrown away because there was no other way that you’d escape them. You needed not to feel such a thing— you were supposed to hate Fred— but a simple touch disproved that.

You spotted every member of the Weasley family at the other end of the hall, their eyes scanning the room for Fred. You looked down at your ex, a sense of sympathy tugging at your heart as you slipped out of the Great Hall unnoticed, leaving Fred to be in the care of people who actually loved him, or at least could admit it.

You needed to burn every memory, every thought, every feeling that was Fred Weasley. Because if you didn’t burn them, he’d be the death of you.

●●●

“It’s rare, Danny,” you began, dotting every freckle that lined his arms, “but some people just don’t have dads. They weren’t born with them.”

“But Ethan has a dad and he also only lives with his mum!” 

He yanked his arm away from you, an oncoming tantrum arriving. You sighed, tugging him closer to you and brushing his unruly hair with your fingers.

“But we’re special,” you whispered, “some people don’t have dads because they don’t need them.”

His displaced anger mellowed, his wide, amber eyes staring up at you, full of hope. “So we don’t need a dad?”

“No, we don’t need a dad, so we don’t have one.”

You never thought that you could do it, but you had; you had erased Fred Weasley from your life. It was then you knew that your mother was right: seeing everything you had with him burn into ashes really did make you smile.

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

taglist:  @whiz-bangs78 @the-romanian-is-bae @witch-and-a-half @pineapplesandpinas @bellaiscool​ @gsvshsjsbs

[greenninjagal-blog]

Let Me Hear You Scream pt2

Ready for more spooky vibes? If you missed the first part you can find it [here!]

Summary: Upon waking up in a forest he doesn't recognize, Roman vs a Bear Trap goes almost exactly how you would think it goes.

Words: 6374

TW: Bear traps, blood, violence,

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Roman has always had an unusually high pain tolerance. He had to, being twin brothers with Remus and all that. The sheer amount of danger the two of them got into as kids delegated that if he was anything less than completely indestructible, he’d be dead the next time Remus started a conversation with “I bet you won’t…”

He remembers that summer when Remus dared him to ride his bike down the concrete stairs, and he remembers how the wheels pitched him forward and his helmet cracked on the sidewalk, his knee skidded on the concrete, and his arm went snap with pain so white hot that Roman actually thought that the whole thing had popped right off his body entirely.

He remembers lying on the ground so shocked that he couldn’t even breathe, much less cry, and he remembers Remus laughing in the background, “I didn’t think you were going to actually do it! Oh shit, Ro? Roman! ROMAN!”

He remembers it so clearly.

“REMUS!” Roman shrieks into the forest, with tears rolling down his cheeks. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU FUCKER!”

His ankle burns. He can’t feel his toes, he can’t feel his ankle, he can’t feel anything, but there’s blood all over his hands and he can’t look down in case he faints.

His hands are trembling as they blindly work over whatever the fuck he stepped on. He can feel the slushie that he last ate, swirling in his stomach, boiling and bubbling until he feels it corroding his back molars. His fingers fumble around the… the metal teeth, oh god he’s going to vomit. His ankle screams in pain when his fingers prod too close to his actual limb. His ears echo with the painful awful SNAP of the jaw mechanism like its seared right into his soul.

“Remus,” He sobs, “I’m going to fucking kill you--”

Because there was a line here; Yeah, Remus dared him into a prank war with one of his stupid “I bet you wont, you prissy goody two shoes…” and Roman poured glitter into Remus’s laundry once, then Remus replaced Roman’s toothpaste with mayo, then Roman put white hair dye in Remus’s shampoo, and Remus swore he would get some type of revenge, even though he loved that look so much that he kept a stupid white streak in his hair. At least Roman thought he did-- He did, right?

Remus wasn’t the type to keep it to himself if he was upset. Neither of them were: Roman had perfected the art of loud sighs and dramatic monologues into a microphone and Remus had set things on fire to make people pay attention.

He didn’t-- wouldn’t--

He wouldn’t drag Roman into the middle of nowhere and make him walk into a bear trap for hair dye that would come out in another few weeks.

((Wouldn’t he?))

Everyone said Remus was insane, through whispered rumors and gossip that dissipated the moment that Roman walked into the room. Roman hadn’t ever seen the insanity himself; he grew up with Remus chasing squirrels in the park and diving into dumpsters for cool treasures and it was normal. Remus had always found humor in strange and weird things and as they had grown up those things had become less real and more abstract and Roman still didn’t think it meant that Remus would do this.

The forest is dense around him, stupid, dark; Roman isn’t sure he could recognize it even if he had a map in front of him, but then again Remus was always the more environmentally aware person of the two of them. He doesn’t know where Remus went the fuck off to either-- he’s brain is fuzzy at everything more than a few seconds ago when he blinked opened his eyes and took one step forward into a metal death trap, but he… he thought Remus had been right beside him, so close that… that…. His head is singing with pain and the backs of his eyes are melting.

“Hey!” A voice calls out and Roman flinches so hard that the metal spikes dig into his ankle and his scream strangles him.

Roman blinks back his tears just in time to see a figure stumble right out the thickets nearby, with the grace of a new born fucking dear. Roman swears in every language he knows and then some he doesn’t as the person scrambles back to their feet and zeroes in on him with an expression that Roman usually associates with the memory of his science teacher right before she demonstrated how to break a frog's ribcage for their dissection.

“No,” Roman says, “No, back off--”

He tries to scoot back and agony shoots up his leg so bright and violent that his vision whites out.

“Don’t move,” the person says, holding up their palms up suddenly to show they were unarmed or something. Roman isn’t sure what that’s supposed to do when he knows that Remus himself has never needed a weapon to be a lunatic. “I’m going to try to help.”

“Do not fucking come near me,” Roman snarls. “Who are you? One of Remus’s fucking little friends--”

“I assure you I don’t know a Remus, but you are in pain and believe I am qualified to help.”

“Fuck off!”

Roman swears that the pain is getting to his head, meddling with his thoughts like alcohol except not fun and Roman would not suggest anyone repeat this experience. The stranger-- Remus’s friend or whatever-- is staring at him with a patient impatience: like his mother waiting for him to finish his story before she runs off to answer a call on her work phone. They’re older than Roman, by a year or two, with sharp cheekbones and back framed glasses of a stereotypical nerd but a height that makes it hard to even imagine anyone looking down on them. Their eyes are colder than ice, and frost wafts off their breath. They’ve got a sweater vest on, with a tie, and converse dotted with glow in the dark paint in the shape of space nebulas.

Between his teary eye lashes Roman thinks that this guy looks incredibly tame for someone who associates with Remus and he fights the urge to vomit.

Is his leg supposed to be feeling cold?

Oh god, was he going to lose his foot? His breath swells up in his lungs, like a balloon pressing against his ribs. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a foot-- He wouldn’t be able to move or leave these woods or get help-- Remus and his psycho friends could easily cut up the rest of his body and let the wolves get him and then at school when someone would ask what happened to that dumbass who used to make dumb jokes on air during the football games, everyone will be like “Who?” and “didn’t Remus used to have an annoying twin? What happened to that guy?” and no one will ever find him because no one would car--

“Please,” The Doctor Who-ever says, in a faux calm tone as Roman nearly swallows his tongue. “I have medical knowledge, and you are clearly in distress.”

Agony races up his leg and Roman whimpers again. He swears he can hear the sound of metal grinding against his ankle bones, biting in deep and forcing the marrow to crack and shatter and explode until it's just a bunch of broken glass-like fragments under his skin. His head feels light and he frantically breathes deeply because he is not going to pass out, he is not going to make it that eas--

He’s cut off by a sudden crashing from behind behind himself: snapping of branches like a wild animal is tearing through them, the crunch of dead leaves steadily getting louder and heavy and deadlier, the swearing that are all tell-tale sounds of Remus crashing directly into someone and both of them eating the dirt as they barrel through the thickets and roll to a stop a few feet away.

Nerdicus jerks back like they were expecting anything less of Remus’s spectacular grand entrance.

Roman bites down on his tongue to stop himself from outright whimpering. Remus, his twin, his mirror image, rolls back to a sitting position like a possessed doll coming to life, untangling his limbs from another crumpled, groaning form that must be some other friend of his, and snapping them back in place because what are limbs to a maniac like him? The setting sun paints him in an eerie light and Roman’s skin itches with equal parts rage and terror at him, for dragging them out there, for putting out bear traps, for doing all this as pay back for a stupid little prank in a prank war he fucking started--

Remus’s laughter is obnoxious as always and Roman tries not to flinch at the sound of it alone, holding back a white wash of fear with just his force of will.

His other friend is another person that Roman hasn’t seen before-- not that he spends a lot of time getting to know the faces of the delinquents that his brother hangs out with. They’ve got on black jeans and a black T-shirt with one of those reversible sequin designs in the shape of a skull. Their blond hair dances in the last dregs of the evening, even as they pull a leaf from their bangs and yanks their dirty yellow beanie back over their head.

“Holy shit!” Remus says, spitting out dirt from his mouth. “Is that a bear trap?”

“Remus!” Roman whimpers with a tight throat. “This isn’t funny!”

“Au contraire! I left you alone for like five seconds and now you’re in a bear trap!” There’s a glint in Remus’s eyes and Roman recognizes it from those times when Remus climbed too high in the trees back at home, when he stared at a growing flame of a match too long, when he reached across the console and yanked on the steering wheel, screaming Roman’s name--

Roman brain pulses to the point where he can feel it knock against his skull and that hurts almost as much as ankle and he swears he sees stars on the backs of his eyelids and he does not want those to be the last stars he ever sees.

Remus swoops towards him and Roman flinches back, nearly screaming when his leg jostles.

“Chill out, Prince Charmless,” his twin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get it off. What’s your range of movement?”

“Do not come any closer to me, you asshole!”

“You can’t get that thing off yourself,” Remus says.

“And whose fault is that?” Roman snaps.

Remus freezes, tilting his head slightly to the side. His rat's nest of hair creates an unearthly silhouette as he looks down at Roman, something straight out his Halloween horror films, and Roman bares his teeth in warning. He’s not thinking about how Remus’s foot can stomp down on his injured, trapped leg, he’s not thinking about how there’s no one around for miles, he’s not thinking about how there’s nothing and no one to stop him from straight out fratricide--

“Why am I suddenly getting the feeling you think I know what the flying fuck is going on here?” Remus asks.

“Don’t you?”

“No!” Remus says, delightedly, happily, cheerfully and his voice makes some distant bird caw. “I thought you snapped and took me to the woods to kill me yourself! This is much more boring now that I know I haven’t managed to break your last shreds of sanity.”

“Why would I--”

“This is ridiculous,” Glasses McGee cuts in sharply, adjusting said glasses with their index finger. “We need to remove your foot from that trap now.” They look at Remus and the other person. “Are either of you knowledgeable about the mechanics of bear traps?”

Remus throws two thumbs up, and Roman remembers vaguely a rant from a year or two ago about unethical bear hunting and steel jaw traps and how animals would step in and then lay there for days suffering as their mangled limb held them captive regardless of them trying to chew it off for freedom and oh god he’s going to be sick--

“Roman,” Remus says somewhere beyond the screaming in his head. “Oh shit.” It sounds like he’s far away and distant, or maybe underwater and Roman is drowning. He can’t seem to breathe anymore, like the teeth biting into his ankles had wrapped around his chest and was slowly crushing him.

People are moving around him, faint voices talking and then suddenly burning blinding white hot pain that shoots all the way up to the back of his eyes.

He screams and bites down only to find there’s something in his mouth-- fibers and the unmistakable taste of wool and Roman nearly gags on it. He blinks back the foggy pain and finds that he’s leaning on Remus and Webster Dick-tionary is pressing a multicolored sweatshirt to his leg delicately with the bear trap fully closed a few feet away, tethered to the ground with a heavy metal chain coated in a red paint that makes Roman’s vision sway all over again. The slushie claws back up his throat and he gags.

There’s someone new standing just behind the nerd: a very pretty person in a pretty skirt and headphones with cat ears on them around his neck. The splash of freckles and the round glasses makes them look a bit younger than the rest of them, but that could also be Roman’s brain twisting things around the moment that they wince in sympathy as the nerd prods part of his ankle.

They’re magnificent, Roman decides with a dizzying certainty. They’re the sun in the middle of this dark and dreadful forest, the stars in the night sky, the lighthouse in the storm guiding Roman back from complete devastation with just those shiny eyes behind cracked lens.

The other person, the one in the black skull shirt, Sid from Toy Story come to life, is standing just behind him and Remus, looking on distastefully from a good distance away. It takes Roman a moment to realize he’s biting down on the guy’s beanie, and gross. He spits it out at the same time as the nerd presses too close to where the trap had caught him.

“Son of a Witch!” He hisses. “A dragon witch, a fucking---”

“Oh, boo,” Remus says. “He’s alive.”

“He was not in any immediate danger of dying,” Space Case says firmly. “And isn’t he your brother?”

“Looks like someone is an only child,” Remus says. The person in black reaches out and snatches back his beanie, his entire face curling into some disgusted expression as they hold the part with Roman’s saliva away from themself.

“Wonderful,” they say in deadpan and stuff the beanie in their back pocket.

Roman blinks, struggling to sit up by himself. He scrubs his face trying to get rid of his tears, and buries that boiling humiliation being the center of attention like this. Of course, he has to be grievously injured for anyone to care about him, for anyone to take a moment to look at him, for anything--

Remus lets him go, stretching up and yawning like nothing about this is weird or strange or scary to him.

Part of Roman is reassured by that. Like, of course Remus isn’t terrified out of his mind; what is there to be scared of when he’s the most terrifying thing in a 100 mile radius? When he handcuffed himself to the doors of the city history museum to protest its demolishment even though the wrecking ball was right there, when he wore a mini skirt to school to protest the dress code even though he’d been beat up for less before, when he marched into the Governor’s office when he was refused a meeting about the rescinding of the pollution standards in the the county and laughed in the face of the armed guards that told him to leave.

Remus had an endless supply of guts and determination and Roman had wished for so long that his reckless bravery could be contained, controlled and banished, but now it kinda felt like Remus slipping a familiar jacket over Roman’s shoulders and telling him to relax.

Google.com-- Roman is seriously running out of names for them-- leans in and tears the new holes in Roman’s jeans further-- Roman grimaces at the thought of having to buy another pair to make up for this, but the nerd expertly uses the excess fabric to tie up his wound with a professional precision.

“Alright, Doc Oct,” Remus says while they work. “What is the diagnosis? Amputation? Do I need a body bag?”

“I just said that he was not in danger of dying,” they say, finishing the knot which only causes Roman to grunt a little bit. “And my name is Logan, if you must know. I am not a full medical doctor by any means, but I believe that he will recover fully; the trap broke skin and there will likely be a nasty amount of bruising deep in the muscle tissue, but he will recover in a few weeks of rest. It will probably be best to keep weight off your foot as much as possible.”

“See, drama queen?” Remus says to Roman, shoving his shoulder. “You’re fine.”

Roman gives him double middle fingers for his trouble and tries not to shake too hard with relief. He stares down at his leg, forcing a steady breath through his lungs and out his nose, and wonders with a dizzying amazement how his leg was not only in one piece but recoverable, after all the pain. He isn’t sure that it’s not just the placebo effect of someone saying that everything’s going to be okay, but he wiggles his toes and swears that the pain only wracks his limb moderately this time.

Even closed, the bear trap looked menacingly at them: Roman’s blood on the jaws that were curled into a ghoulish grin, just waiting for someone to get close enough to open and bite down on. He’s not sure how Remus and the Doctor Doolittle-- Logan-- managed to get it off him.

Logan turns and offers the sweater to the person in the skirt. “Ah, sorry, I’m afraid the blood has…”

Roman sucks in another breath at the sight of it: the bright splotchy blobs of red that bled through the pastel tye dye design that would likely never come out and eternally remain a reminder of how Roman put his foot directly in a bear trap like an idiot-- What would he have done if there was no one around? Died? His own stupidity had ruined such a nice piece of clothing and--

“It’s okay!” The angel says with a somewhat cartoonish voice. Roman blinks in surprise at the sweetness of it, tasting sugar even as the words hold over the air. He swears he can envision their I’s dotted with hearts; a soft and kind tone despite the fact that Roman had ruined their sweater. “I’m much more relieved he’s going to be okay!”

“Let’s not get too excited,” Doctor Doom says, causing Roman to stiffen and Remus to glance back curiously towards them. They’re turned away from the rest of the mismatched, miscellaneous group, looking into the trees with a gaze that makes Roman’s stomach roll over and not in any way that is even remotely good.

“What?”

They glance back at them with an expression something that Roman can only call shifty. Like a snake before it strikes, they’re poised on the balls of their feet, coiled with the power to move at a seconds decision. Untrustable, Undependable, Unkind-- and Roman squares his shoulders just to prove to himself that there isn’t actually a dagger point about to plunge into his back.

The person’s voice is silky smooth, but Roman can’t find it in himself to be jealous when the meaning of the next words hit. “I don’t suppose any of you remember just exactly how we came to be here, do you?”

The woods echo with a strange emptiness, like the trees themselves are holding their breaths. The silence is eerie-- Roman’s never been a forest this quiet. He’s never been anywhere this quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

Logan and the shining, shimmering, lovely vision share a look and the former shrugs, occupying their hands with tying their sweater around their waist.

“It’s fuzzy,” they admit, thoughtfully. “I was leaving my dorm...and then…” They grimace, which is downright awful to witness: Roman doesn't think anyone deserves to look so uncomfortable, and certainly not a beauty like them. “...then I was here.”

Logan makes a sour face like he managed to misplace a decimal twenty seven steps back in his math equations. “I was uncharacteristically late to class, but I seem to have some form of amnesia surrounding the hours since then as well; It was just past two.”

Dr. Facilier-turned-teenager turns to Roman, their eyes asking a question they already know the answer to. And part of Roman wants to snarl at them, tell them to knock it off with the creepy aura and better-than-you-expression, explain to them exactly how they ended up all here together because there’s a logical, causal explanation.

But Remus is already laughing. “Oh come on! We were…. What were we doing again?” Remus freezes for a moment, some of the smile leaving his face. “Ro? Where were we…?”

Remus is dressed in another one of his ripped T-shirts, the Save the Turtles one that he wore to that protest a few months ago and when he volunteered to clean up beaches for the weekend. His sleeves are ripped off to show off the endangered Tiger tattoo on his shoulder up to his neck, and his jeans are the recycled ones that he bought second hand and begged Roman to repair rather than buy a new pair and “give his money to the capitalists that are trying to kill us all”.

In comparison, Roman is wearing his letterman jacket, with his name engraved on it that he got for being the announcer for the football team three years in a row. He’s wearing his announcer uniform too-- his hair is styled and his colors are coordinated to the white and red of their school, but Remus never comes to the football games anymore.

Or well, he’s not allowed to come to the games anymore after he stole the tuba from the band players and charged into the field during the game back in their freshman year.

Still he-- remembers… he thinks he remembers... They were in the car together, Remus needed to go somewhere and Roman had to drop him off and then speed off to the game, right? Remus' feet were up on his dashboard, mud flaking off into his freshly cleaned car, his air fresheners weren’t working, they were fighting over the radio, Remus’s hand reached out, latching on to the wheel and a scream--

“Fuck,” Remus says, rubbing the side of his head like Roman had slapped him. “Did you crash our car out here?”

“Me?” Roman says, incredulously.

“Yeah!” Remus says. “Did you get brain damage in the crash too? Are your brains going to fall out? You were the one driving, dumbass.”

“You grabbed my steering wheel!”

Remus snorts. “What? No, I didn’t?”

“Yes you did!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“I wouldn’t get anything out of--”

“Boys!” Skeletar says, clapping to get their attention. “Less arguing, more answering the question.”

Remus looks at Roman and Roman glares right back because he did not crash the car. Between the two of them Remus was more likely to crash a car-- proven from how he totaled their green Ford Fiesta nine months ago and now even around the pounding headache he can still remember the feeling of surprise as Remus’s sporadic movement jumbled through his own, the yank that caused him to lose control, the-- the--

He doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he knows that then Roman had opened his eyes out here, taken a step forward, and nearly lost his foot to a bear trap.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Logan says. “Even if perhaps you happened to have a car around here, that does not explain how the rest of us came to be here. And likely from the events that you are describing the car is not in functional condition-- although I’m unsure how your persons would have come out of such a thing without a few visible injuries…”

“I didn’t crash the car,” Roman says firmly.

“Oh, like you didn’t step into a bear trap?” Remus asks innocently antagonistically.

“Why are there bear traps out here anyway!” Roman hisses. “Isn’t bear hunting or whatever illeg--”

Roman almost doesn’t hear it: it starts so softly and then it raises in pitch and suddenly it's ringing in the air like cracks in the fragile glass silence. He feels his breath disappear right out of his chest, his body tensing and everyone jerks towards the direction the sound comes from, like they’re expecting to see something out there.

Roman remembers hearing people yell at Remus to get out of the way of the wrecking ball, remembers hearing the teachers snap at him to go change into his gym clothes, remembers the armed guard spitting on Remus’s face, his own shouts turning to something just above an animalistic growl when he told Remus to knock it off, you’re making me look bad.

And still he doesn’t remember hearing anything sound so horrified. So desperate. So despondent.

It is the noise that causes Roman to break out in goosebumps, electricity dancing along his skin causing all of his hairs to raise, and himself to find it suddenly very hard to swallow. Roman is scrambling back before he can remember that his foot should not be moving and he bumps into Logan as he does.

It cuts off short and disappears like someone took a pair of scissors to the sound itself, snipping the scream for help away before it reaches the end.

And Roman doesn’t think anyone is breathing anymore. His heart pounds in his chest, waiting for the rest of it.

The trees cast shadows so deep and dark that not even the moonlight will touch them. Somehow without Roman noticing, the temperature had dropped until the air feels like frostbite licking his exposed skin. Roman doesn’t dare move another inch-- doesn’t like the idea of what might happen if he reminds the rest of the world that time is still passing.

“I…” the person in the skull T-shirt says, in a very low, strangled tone. “I don’t think bears are what's being hunted.”

“No,” Roman says, “No.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna be sick,” the person in the skirt says.

“No!” Roman says, throwing out his arms before his thoughts can catch up. “This is not--”

“We need to leave,” Logan says, face pale. “Now.”

“I think I saw a gate,” Remus said, no hint of his unhinged grin. He thumbs the direction that he and Kaa came from. “I pulled the switch but it didn’t open. I thought about climbing but there are no holds and barbed wire around the top--”

“It’s likely lacking a power source then,” Logan says steadily calm and Roman feels like he’s losing his whole goddamned mind. “Let me take a look at--”

“We are not being hunted right now!” Roman blurts out.

The others stare at him for a solid, endless second and Roman’s stomach threatens to crawl up his throat. He waits for them to agree with him, waits for them to laugh and call it a joke, waits for Remus to tell him he’s so easy to scare, come on Ro, did you really think there was a murderer in these woods? This is grade school level effort!

Roman gets the feeling that he’s going to be waiting a very long time.

“Guys,” Roman says, slightly more wobbly than he means it to, slightly more softer than he means it to, slightly more terrified than he means it to. “We aren’t being hunted for sport, right?”

Because-- Because he’s seen horror movies. And he remembers once how Remus poured a bag of popcorn over his head and said that if they were ever in that situation, he’d leave Roman to rot, maybe even toss him to the killer himself, laugh as Roman screamed and begged and cried.

He doesn’t look at his foot. He doesn’t look at his foot and think about how he can’t run. He doesn't look at his foot and realize that they’re going to leave him behind and no one will ever know what happened to him and no one will care--

Remus is suddenly right in front of him, offering a hand right into Romans face. Roman blinks back the burning tears on his cheeks and looks at the limb with a trembling lip.

“Come on,” Remus says. “You’re a little bitch when you ruin your mascara, Ro.”

And Roman tries to articulate the billions of insults he has in his brain, but all that comes out is a whimper as Remus latches on to his wrist and pulls him to his feet. He stumbles the moment that he tries to put weight on his foot, flickers of pain echoing in his brain although it's not nearly as bad as he was expecting. Remus pulls Roman over his shoulder with his injured leg raised between them and all of his weight on Remus’s shoulders.

“I’m not leaving you behind, dumbass,” Remus says.

((Why wouldn’t he?))

“We need to help them,” the person in the skirt, the good and just and wonderful person in a skirt, says suddenly.

“I don’t think they need our help,” Hans Gruber-minus-the-German-accent says. “In fact, I don’t think they need anything, anymore.”

“How could you say that?!”

“Easily,” they respond, shortly.

The person in the skirt is shaking, Roman realizes. They’re shaking and hugging themself and they look slightly green in the face.

“I came from over there,” they say from behind trembling hands. “I-- I didn’t hear anyone else over there but they must have been there and I-- I can’t--”

“They’re dead,” Dr. Jerkyll says clinically, like a surgeon with a knife. “Us rushing towards that area is only going to get us attacked next. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die, thank you very much.”

“We can’t leave them!” The other argues.

The person in the skull shirt steps towards the other and grabs their upper arm to spin them back to the direction the scream came from. Then with a derisive and terrible sneer, they shove. The cutie in the skirt stumbles forward, nearly face planting on the uneven ground.

“Then you go help them,” they say, with streaks of faint and awful moonlight painting them in a pale halo. They wave back to Logan, Remus and Roman, and Roman feels very much like he doesn’t want to be included in this group all of a sudden. “Don’t drag the rest of us into it.”

“Hey, don’t be a dick!” Roman says, stepping forward and hissing when he places a slight weight on his foot. “What if it were you out there?”

They scoff. “Me? I would never let myself get caught by a psycho murderer in the woods. But if I did, the last thing I would want is my valiant savior to come charging to my rescue and then get slaughtered right beside me like an idiot!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, you slimy snake,” Roman says.

“I bet you will, Hiccup,” they shoot back. “The gate is this way. Try not to step in another bear trap, won’t you?”

“Damn!” Remus says, “You’re a bitch! What’s your opinion on plastic in the sea?”

Roman slaps Remus’s arm and gives him a glare because really? Right now? They’re in the woods, someone just screamed and probably got murdered, they don’t know how to get out, Roman’s injured, and Remus is doing one of his weird flirting attempts.

Great.

The person in the skull shirt at least looks slightly thrown by the question, narrowing their eyes and shaking their head as they turn away as if they can brush off the rest of the group. “The sea turtles are dying.” They say blandly, without a hint of actual emotion. “Oh no. Next time I see one I will give my condolences about it’s mother.”

Remus’s mouth pops open for a retort that Roman knows is going to be bad, but before he can get the words out, there’s a loud sound of cracking branches from behind them. Remus drags Roman back from the area, planting himself in front of Roman like some kind of human shield and Roman wobbles, without anything to put his injured leg on.

“Jesus Christ!” A new voice screams, as they trip over a thicket and fall into the clearing.

They move like a blur; barely more than a shadow with the ungodly amount of black they’re wearing. Roman can make out a pale face, dark bangs and terrified eyes, before the scramble back in the ground leaving… leaving smears of deep red on the ground in front of them. Their flashlight goes flying off to Logan’s feet, but they don’t seem to care as much about that as moving away from whatever is behind them.

The air tastes like metal, like copper, and Roman swears the world sways under him. His heartbeat blares in his ears almost louder than the newcomer’s hysterical sobs.

There’s a thud. And another.

And the trees themselves seem to shake and draw from the shadow that takes form. It peels away from the others, massive, hulking and distorted in all the wrong ways: at some point it must have been human, Roman thinks hysterically. It has two legs and two arms and a torso and a head, but it's elongated towering over even Logan at his ridiculous height. Its skin is covered in soot and dirt, layers upon layers to the point where Roman almost thought that it was wearing some kind of leather armor. It has rubber overalls on, strapped...strapped to its body with metal hooks that catch the thin moonlight peeking out of its bulging bare shoulders in a way that looks…looks self mutilated. The patchy ugly skin is healed around the metal, molded to it, absorbing it. In one hand is a cleaver, cobbled together from various metals with an unfinished touch and dripping scarlet all the way down the handle to its massive hands. Roman thinks that with one hand it could easily crush one of their skulls.

But worse than that, than the blood, than the stench coming from the thing, than the bloodlust that's echoing out of it: worse than all that is the mask welded to its face. A pale white skin that nearly glows in the darkness, framed with jagged sharp edges of bladed teeth in a terror inducing smile. Soulless orbs exist where eyes might have once been: now there are empty voids without a human behind them.

In a slow, almost robotic motion, it raises the cleaver in its hand. Blood rolls down the handle onto it’s hand and Roman watches the bulb of red drip down into the grass right between the newcomer’s sneakers.

Oh, Roman thinks suddenly very clearly without any room for a single doubt, This is what death looks like.

“NO!” The person in the skirt screams and suddenly they shove forward and throw themselves in front of the swing of the cleaver. Roman isn’t sure who screams louder at that: him, the person in the skirt, or the person on the ground bleeding out.

His brain is on fire, every atom in him is screaming so loud that he can’t hear his thoughts. His own breath flees his lungs with abandon that Roman’s brain somehow hadn’t gotten because instead of running away he’s running towards the monster. His blood boils in his veins and he pushes through Remus with the sort of reckless abandonment of sanity he never would have thought he’d ever make.

His vision locks onto the kid on the ground and his fingers latch on their left shoulder and he hauls them back.

The air next to his ear whistles as the cleaver misses them by centimeters and the person in the skirt screams as they fall to the side, and specks of something wet and warm and sticky flings through the air like its a water fountain; Roman feels it splatter across his face and his brain heart thuds in his chest.

Remus appears on his other side, grabbing Roman’s hostage by their other arm and they both pull them to their feet, ignoring the way they scream in pain. Their torso drips ruby into the dead grass at their feet and Roman-- Roman--

The hulking monster in front of them gives his cleaver a shake and drags it over its own arm to wipe away the blood, like it's nothing more than a hindrance. It turns its entire body towards the person in the skirt, the gorgeous selfless angel of a person that Roman hasn’t gotten the name of-- of someone he isn't going to get the same of because the abomination raises the cleaver again.

Roman screams because he does not want to watch someone die, please he doesn’t want to be in this nightmare anymore, wake up wake up wakeup--

There’s a brilliant white light that explodes at the last second. Roman himself jerks away from it, but that’s nothing compared to the inhuman howl that the creature makes as it stumbles back to the edge of the forest, covering its beady eyes with its massive hands.

Logan flicks the flashlight off and grabs the person in the skirt by their uninjured arm and looks back at them only briefly with an air of finality.

“RUN!” He says.

And Roman does.

[ha-hatdog]

to narnia / edmund pevensie

first narnia request hehe. the request was a little too vague like so i don't know exactly what plot you want but this is my take. hope you enjoy hihi

edmund is aged up to 16 here and so is reader. this is after they had returned from narnia in the first movie

requested by @darkladyslytherin :  Hi! Are you busy? If you don't mind can you write a Narnia fanfic Edmund Pevensie x reader where the reader is his girlfriend and he was wondering whether he could bring her to Narnia. Thank you ily ❤️

dear @darkladyslytherin do you know that you’re one of my favorite readers? just saying. i always take notice of those who really follow and comment on my stories in quotev hihi. although i haven’t seen you much lately in quotev, i just wanted to show you my appreciation. love you and thanks 

UNEDITED

Edmund was different.

After reuniting with him when he and his siblings had temporarily left to live in an old mansion miles and miles away, you noticed immediately. How can you not? He was your dear lover, and even the slightest change in his expression couldn't escape your eye. He looked the same, the same Edmund Pevensie that you last saw descending from the train with his sibling to wait to be picked up, but at the same time, he was not.

He felt different and acted differently - the naivety was gone, replaced with a steadfast regality and maturity, his decisions no longer driven with the need for adrenaline and fun, but thoroughly thought out. This was not the same Edmund you have last seen. But you loved him nonetheless, and nothing could change that, even if he was no longer the Edmund you knew as of late.

His siblings were in the same boat as him. They interacted with each other differently. Although Peter and Susan already had that air of maturity, they somehow felt older. Peter has become more assertive than commanding and Susan was gentler, yet still being able to uphold her duty as an older sister. Even sweet little Lucy seemed more mature than you, and she was ten.

You cannot help but wonder if something happened to the four of them when they were in the mansion, when they were apart from you. They had moments when they fell silent when questioned about their stay with Professor Digory Kirke, suddenly looking sorrowful and solemn, and more than once have you seen them gather and converse in hushed voices, and you knew they were deliberately being secretive and out casting you from those particular exchange as they scatter once you attempt to insert yourself into them.

Something most definitely happened back with Professor Digory.

You raised your concern with the eldest sister, asking her if there was an occurrence when they were temporarily residing with the old man. Susan was usually the most open person with you (Lucy was too, but you feel like, despite her suddenly having mature qualities, she was still ten), but when you asked her that question, she expertly dismissed it and diverted the conversation in a different route. She may think that she had done excellently keeping you in the dark, but that itch in the back of your head wouldn't go away, not until you found answers.

You were lounging in the sitting area with Susan, your hand tapping a pen on a table while Susan sat on a cushioned and high backed chair, a large book in her dainty hand.

You let out a sigh as you dropped the item within your grasp on the smooth surface, earning the eyes of your friend. "Something wrong?" Susan questioned as she set her book down on her lap, eyeing you curiously from where she was positioned.

"Nothing," You puffed out, and your eyes vision fell back to the table. "I'm just bored."

"If you're so bored, why don't you hang out with Edmund?" Suggested Susan, and when you did not respond, she took this chance to continue speaking. "He misses you, you know."

You flushed at her spoken statement and averted your gaze from her. Shame pricked at your heart as your heard the your lover's name, but even so, your remained steadfast, unfaltering, just as Edmund was to you.

You took the pen back to your hand, scowling slightly. "Never mind." You grumbled out, and Susan sighed in disappointment and exasperation to your defiant answer against her proposal.

"You're still ignoring him." It was not a question, it was badgering remark of a fact, and you were quiet, as what she had spouted was not incorrect.

You were not stupid. Before you asked anyone else, you bluntly came forward with your concern to your boyfriend - Edmund Pevensie - interrogating him about his time spent in the mansion, but he dismissed you with a shake of a head, stating that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But his barriers has shot up immediately after the question, and your suspicion and curiosity arose. You have chased him with this question upon your lips, but he was as consistent as you were with denying you the right to know. And in retaliation to his constant rejection, you evaded his presence like the plague, just like how he evades giving you the answer you sought for, making it a point to show him that you were not giving up until he tells you something, anything, about the trip.

"He won't tell me anything. So I won't tell him anything." You retorted to Susan, sight flitting over to her. "Unless you fancy telling me - "

Susan shook her head, brown locks billowing with her movements. "There's nothing to say. Nothing happened."

You scoffed. "I'm not stupid, Susan!" Your hollering voice stunned her, and even you were shocked with your own boldness. "I know something happened but you keep making me out to be the insane one here!"

"That is certainly not the case." Denied Susan and a curtain of solemnity swung over her. She turned away, suddenly reclusive and losing the air of regality she always had around her after their return in London. "If anything, you'll think of us as the insane ones."

Confusion wrapped you in its finger. "Why would I? I have been the outcast here ever since you four came back. You always made me feel like it. Never telling me anything when really, something is going on and none of you would say something. Not even Lucy, and she's the most honest person on your lot."

Susan pursed her lips, agitated. "I'm sorry we have made you feel this way but there's nothing to say. People change, (Your Name). Slowly, quickly, they just . . . change." She murmured. "You can't stop it from happening."

"I don't mind change, Susan. But if this change means cutting me off your family, then it would be much better if Edmund and I break up, and I leave your family for good." Your words took Susan aback, and she nearly dropped her book to the floor. And yet you continued, spouting claims that supported your previous statement, unaware of the presence that has descended from a nearby flight of stairs. This new arrival stood by the last step, a food precariously tipped on the edge of the step and a hand holding on to the wooden leverage beside him.

"Peter changed, Lucy changed, you changed, and Edmund changed! I have not once complained about the four of you changing but this is too much! After we have reunited, I thought all would be fine now. The war is done, and we're going back to school in a few months but it feels like we're miles apart." You let out, frustrated. You stood up from your chair and abandoned your task. "Even Edmund feels like a stranger! He used to tell me everything, from his issues with Peter and to that little bug that keeps flying near his ear when he's sleeping! No matter how insignificant they are, he tells me and now he can't even look at me without his eyes screaming - hey, I have a secret that's eating me up from the inside and my siblings have them as well!"

Susan did not speak.

You scoffed. "Silent again, I see. Not surprised. That's all you've been whenever I'm around. I don't even know why I'm still hanging with you lot." You gathered your belongings and stuffed them inside your bag which was located underneath the table. As you continued taking items and putting them inside your bag, you went on, still unable to detect the concerned eyes of your lover staring at you. "It's obvious you'd rather keep everything to yourself, so I might as well leave and let you do that in peace."

You zipped your bag in a swift motion and turned to head towards the front door only to come to a skidding halt once you came face with a broad chest. Looking up, you saw Peter looking down at you, a conflicted expression on his mien and behind him was a concerned Lucy.

You tried going around him, to continue your short travel towards the the front door but Peter followed your movement, effectively blocking you from your intention.

You stomped your feet stubbornly at Peter, the presence of your significant other beyond your awareness. "Will you please move?" You requested, voice laced with irritation.

"No," Adamantly answered Peter, causing you to roll your eyes. "Is that how you really feel?"

"Oh," You chided, brow lifting. "Now you're finally paying attention to me. Guess all it had to take was for me to get full of your negligence. Thank you, I guess."

Peter opened his mouth to interject, but he was cut off, and you stumbled back when Lucy flung herself to you, arms wrapping around your middle and burying her face on your clothed stomach. Susan advanced towards you to pull Lucy away, but the younger girl spoke before she could be interrupted with her affectionate embrace, "No, please don't leave us!"

A curtain of shame and regret swathed you as you stared at the lass pulling you close to her, but nonetheless, you turned away, eyes closed. "I can't stay in a place where everyone avoids me as if I'm the plague. I'm going."

Lucy tore herself away from you and turned to the elderly siblings, tears springing up at the corner of her eyes. "We should just tell her!" Exclaimed she.

Peter frowned. "Lucy, we talked about this with Professor Kirke - "

"So, you're just going to let her leave us?" Asked Lucy. Susan and Peter did not respond, only looking away as they too have no answer to her inquiry.

"She's right." Everybody turned to the source of the voice, and your eyes bulged upon seeing Edmund standing by the doorframe, shoulder slouching and eyes blank with nervousness. But there was also a peculiar sort of hardened resolve in them, the some resolve that you had last seen when he promised to meet you again after the war has come to pass. You swallowed, turning away as he continued. You can feel his eyes on you, burning against your skin. "We need to tell her." He stated with finality. "I need to tell her."

Peter ventured a step forward to his younger brother, an arm extended. "Edmund," He blathered. "Professor Kirke said - "

"I know what Professor Kirke said. I was there with you, okay? I know what he told us. But I'd rather break his rule just once. I'm not going to lose (Your Name). And I know you don't want to as well." You inhaled as Edmund walked up next to you, and his hand clasped over your shoulder. You looked up at him, and you saw the hopeful shine in his eyes. "Come with me, I will tell you everything. I promise."

You opened your lips to protest, to tell him that he did not need to tell you anything if it was really against his will, but the plea in his eyes - how can you say no to him?

"I won't keep anything away from you anymore."

***

You and Edmund left the house to find somewhere private to talk. His room would have been ideal, but despite having your significant other make his siblings promise not to eavesdrop, there was no guarantee that they would hold the end of their promise and so, both of you elected to venture outdoors and find place where you were, for sure, to have your privacy. You two walked in silence through the streets, tension both burdening your shoulders.

This was not like you two, at least before. There was always laughter and sarcastic exchange between the two of you. But now, even holding his hand seemed like a task your mind can longer comprehend. Your hand stiffened and quivered whenever it tried to reach for his and you sulked in dismay, accepting your defeat.

But Edmund, although he too was absorbed in anxiety with what was to come, noticed your apprehension and how your hand moved near and away from his own. His mind was set not to intertwine his hand with yours as the small monster in the back of his mind said it would be terribly improper to instigate any form of affection when a row was settled with the pair of you. But his hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it reached out to take your hand in his hold. He felt your hand squeeze him, and he smiled and returned the gesture.

Everything will be fine. I'm sure.

You two found a field after a several minutes of walking, and decided to settle under the shade of the fee trees sprouting on the vastness.

You sat down on the ground, and Edmund was left standing, his back to you as he overlooked the plains and the hillocks in the distance. You brought your legs to your chest and embraced them, trying to abate the loneliness that was creeping on you. Now that you're alone with him and had the reassurance that he will tell you everything, the loneliness you have repressed inside of you with sheer strength alone for so long was beginning to overflow.

You glanced down at your hand, the same one he held before. I miss his hold already. You thought. I want to hold his hand again.

Quiet swathed both of you, not a word exchanged. You grew antsy as the stillness of the situation prolonged, and it looked to you that Edmund was not going to do anythimg but stand there and avoid looking at you but you knew him. He wasn't avoiding locking eyes with you - he was trying to think of a way on how to go about broaching this sensitive topic he had not touched for so long, the same reason your relationship has become rocky. You were not familiar with this mature attribute of his for the Edmund you knew would merely spout anything that comes in his mind, but you have concluded that after his abrupt change, his actions and approach to anything woukd be far from before.

"Are you going to say anything?" You questioned, fed up with the silence. He still did not look your way and you let out a sigh. "Edmund."

"I - " He exhaled, and you curled your tongue to stop yourself from talking. But he did not continue his sentence and fell speechless again. And after a little while, he picked up on his pending thought. "I don't know where to start." You saw his shoulders move as he laughed and you cannot help but smile. It has been a while since you've heard him laugh, even if it was a nervous one. "You'd think after being a king and ruling a whole country for many years I'd be sure of myself and be capable of having a simple conversation with my girlfriend."

His words failed to register in your head. You heard him loud and cleat, yet what he said made no sense and it served as a great fuel to your perplexity. You blinked, arms loosening their hold around your legs and back straightening from the arch it formed. "What?" You chimed in, puzzlement evident. "Do you mind repeating what you said? I thought I heard you say king and ruling a country, but that can't be right." You stated. "Sorry, Ed. I think I'm not in the right frame of mind right now and I think I'm hearing differently. How about we talk tomorrow instead?"

"No, you're hearing is fine. You heard right." Edmund turned towards you, solemnity encrusting his mein. You had never seen him this serious before, and it worried you just as it made you curious. Edmund walked over to you, looking down at your seated figure. "You asked me what happened in the Professor's mansion? I was a king, (Your Name). I ruled a country before I returned here."

Your confusion intensified. Brows burrowed, you regarded him warily. "Ed, I don't understand." You confessed. "What do you mean you were a king and ruled a country? Is this some kind of metaphor for something? You don't want to outright say what need to be said so I have to decode this . . . this, this something?" You were unable to find the right term for his statement. "Is that it?"

Edmund lets out a sigh, eyes fluttering to a close. "I knew this would happen. I'm aware of this but seeing it unfold right now, it's harder than I thought." He admitted softly and opened his eyes to look at you. "I know you don't believe me. I sound like a completely delusional child but you wanted the truth, so here I am, saying the truth no matter how stupid it will make me look."

His eyes shone, and you stared back at him, rid of the capability to speak out your judgement or thought.

You let out a gasp as Edmund knelt down and took your hand in his, and the warmth that left your palm as returned suddenly. He took in a deep breath, the amount of oxygen taken in making his chest expand before he eased. He seemed to be trying to calm himself. "Before I say anything else, before I make a fool of myself," He cleared his throat, gazing back at you heatedly. And there they were, the desperation, the pleading, in his eyes, but what got you pursing your lips was the love in his eyes. "I want to apologize for ignoring you, for not telling you the truth earlier. I thought it would be for the better you didn't know anything that happened back in the mansion, but I knew that was impossible. If there's one person I could never ever lie to, I could never keep anything from, it's you. I didn't want to hurt you, but I did, and to me, it was just me trying to protect you. I didn't realize it was a kind of breach in trust."

You said nothing, waiting for him to finish.

"I promise never to do that again." Edmund stated with firm finality, taking you aback. Edmund was never the one to be so sure of things unless he knows he definitely has something to gain from it. This firmness - an unbreakable promise. "I don't want to hurt you like this again, to make you feel unwanted, insecure. Never again."

Your heart swelled. You cooed, "Edmund," You brushed the back of your hand on his cheek. "I forgive you. All I wanted as an apology and an explanation."

He chuckled. "I haven't even said anything."

"I mean you did say you were a king who ruled a country." You laughed, not noticing the way he swallowed the saliva that accumulated in his mouth. "King of a country club, for sure."

"(Your Name)," Began Edmund, and you halted your antics, looking back at him. The solemnity was yet to subside from his visage. You mirrored his expression and sentiment. "Whatever I say to you, promise me that you'll believe me. No matter how ridiculous everything I say may seem to you."

"Of course, Ed." Concern overtook you and you leaned forward to inspect him. "What's going on?"

"I mean it, (Your Name). Promise me." Edmund bellowed, his hold on your hand tightening. "Promise me you'll believe no matter how crazy I might sound."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just promise me, please."

Edmund have always hated how others fabricate his identity and made him out as someone who he isn't. He definitely hated being called insane or a maniac, so hearing him begging you to believe him in fear of having you see a distorted view of him - it hurt you.

"I promise," You affirmed. "Now, tell me - what happened back in the Professor's place?"

Edmund moved and nestled himself beside you, hand leaving yours and back slanting against the tree trunk. He stared off at the distance first before locking eyes with you. "You won't believe me - "

"Oh, bloody hell, Ed," Your quip startled Edmund. "I already said I will believe anything you say no matter how ridiculous it may sound. Let's not go back and forth and just tell me already."

Edmund observed you for a second, then another, and then, he continued. "When we got to the mansion, for the first day at least, everything was normal. It was just four siblings trying to get used to the place they were going to stay at." He began. "There wasn't much to do. We can't go out to explore and play, so we decided to play hide and seek - don't look at me like that - it was Lucy who suggested it - " He rebuked once he saw your smile appearing.

"But you had fun, right?" You pressed on.

Edmund nodded. "Yeah, I guess," But soon after, he halted. "For the first few minutes, I guess. Lucy found this wardrobe to hide in, and literally seconds later, she came out from it like she was gone for hours." A pause. "She said something about meeting a Faun. You know, half man - "

" - half goat, yeah, I know." You replied.

"Yeah, she said she met a Faun named Mister Tumnus because apparently, there was an unknowm world inside the wardrobe called Narnia and a witch had cursed it. They had tea, listened to Narnian songs, and exchanged stories of their own world."

It took you a while to process everything he was saying. A Faun? A witch? Curse? Wardrobe? Narnia? What in the world?

"Imagination is strong. It's understandable, Lucy is still young." Remarked you, and you waited for Edmund to agree, but to your surprise, he did not.

"That's what I thought too, that's what Peter and Susan thought too. Just someone who had a strong imagination. Until," He took in a deep breath. "I also found Narnia."

You didn't know how to take this. How were you supposed to take in this kind of information? Edmund was not like to say things like this, magical things, and if he did, it was out of jest. But there was no humor right now. Just a plea for you to listen, and you did.

"When I got to Narnia, I met the witch, the White Witch. The witch who put Narnia to an eternal winter for a long time." He went on and all of a sudden, you were more than just invested. Something happened with him and that White Witch. You can tell by how his eyes darkened at the mention of her. "She was kind and warm - I know, weird for someone who put an entire country to winter - and that should have been a warning itself, but I still trusted her, just as she wanted."

Edmund took hold of the end of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing the scar on his torso. You flinched at the sight of it. You haven't seen the initial damage to the skin, but you knew the wound had been deep, and must have been a large gateway for his blood. You wondered how much in pain he was.

"Remember this?" Edmund queried.

"Yeah, you said there was an accident in the kitchen." Edmund told you something happened in the kitchen in the mansion when it was his turn to cook but you knew this was a complete and utter lie. His explanation of the accident was too bizzare, and you asked Susan if there had been turns on cookinf and there was none. And, Edmund did not know how to cook. "I know it's a lie, Ed."

"Perceptive, as always. Want to know how I really got it?" He questioned, and you nodded. "I got stabbed, by that Witch."

A gasp of horror escaped your lips at what you heard, back straightening and a hand finding its way to his arm. He sent you an appreciative smile but he still did not let his shirt cover his wound. In fact, he seemed to be transfixed by this ugly scarring and you did not blame him, for the story behind it must have been awful. He was yet to tell you what exactly transpired in this world he called Narnia, but Edmund, regardless of how much he denies it, shows more emotions than he thought.

"Well," You started. "She's called a witch for a reason."

Your little joke bubbled a genuine laughter from Edmund and it enlightened your spirits, even a little. But the inkling hatred for the witch drove your blood to a boiling temperature that you were surprised you weren't squirming on your position with the need to release your pent up aggravation. But Edmund knew you as much as you did with him, and he knew you were effectively masking your anger.

And then reality caught you and your eyes fell - Why am I angry with a witch I don't even know is real? Everything Edmund is saying is so unreal. A world called Narnia inside a wardrobe where his sister met a Faun and he met the, uh . . . White Witch who put said place to winter, a long winter. Nothing sounded real. It's like listening to a children's book. You thought, gulping. But Ed could never fake his feelings. Not to me.

"That happened many years ago. You don't have to worry about me. I'm over it. It's just that . . . the memories, you know." Edmund grew silent again, and you waited for him to speak. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

You breathed out. "No, not at all."

"But you don't believe me."

And you found your mouth unable to move. Nothing he said made sense, nothing of what he told you could be applied to the real world. There is no such things as Fauns and witches and eternal winter and his explanation of how he got his scar in the so called accident in the kitchen made more sense than what he had expounded earlier. All you heard was a fairytale, a make believe made for children. But the way Edmund spoke, the way his eyes shone and darkened, the way pure joy lit his face whenever he mentioned Narnia - this could never be a fairytale, and it shall never be one. You had never seen that look on his face before, this was the first time you have seen him so joyous. He had never looked at you like this, not anyone.

Whatever this Narnia is, you want to see it, you want to experience this indescribable happiness you can see on Edmund's face, you want to know and learn everything about Narnia, with Edmund. You want this joy with him.

But as of the moment, you could feel nothing near of it. Nothing but the strong pull Edmund was emitting.

Logic grounded you, but something - something very close to magic - was tearing you away.

"No, I believe you." You declared. "I really, really do. It might be stupid to say that but - " Your hands clenched. " - I believe you."

You took in a deep breath. "It may be hard but I believe you, and I believe in this Narnia place you're talking about. Plus, you promised me you won't lie anymore, right? I don't have the heart to doubt you." You wanted to believe him. Edmund stared at you with dilated hues, eyebrows raising as astonishment struck him. You smiled and took his hand, this time you were the one enveloping him with your comfort. "Edmund," You began. "I trust you."

Edmund breathed out, relieved. "I trust you too."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "So, can you tell me how long you've been a King? And just how did you become one?"

Edmund took you by surprise when he pulled you to him, connecting his lips with you. You responded back after while and once the two of you pulled away, Edmund chuckled. "It wasn't only me who was royalty and ruling Narnia. There's Susan and Lucy too. I'm King Edmund, the Just. Queen Susan, the Gentle. Queen Lucy, the Valiant."

"What about Peter? Was he not a king?" You questioned.

Edmund feigned confusion. "Who's Peter?"

He laughed when you smacked his chest. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Spouted Edmund. "Peter wasn't only a king. He was the High King Peter, the Magnificent."

"Ooh, High King Peter, the Magnificent. Sounds like something that would make his head big." You jested.

"It did, but he was a great leader who won many battles against neighboring kingdoms and countries who wanted to wage war against Narnia. He's a dependable High King."

"So you all got your maturity from Narnia." You murmured.

"Yeah, we became adults there and we ruled over talking beasts and magical creatures and wow," Edmund breathed out. "I can't believe I'm talking about Narnia so freely with you."

"You don't have to it all inside of you anymore. You can tell me everything about Narnia and how you lived there." You said. "But I never asked you," You began again. "If you loved Narnia so much, then why did you leave?"

Edmund lets out a sigh. "I don't know either. None of my siblings know either. We were just . . . back here, and back to our younger bodies. We spent many, many years there but in this world, it felt like we had only been gone for an hour of three." He briefly took a moment to collect himself. "We tried going back but . . . "

You smiled sympathetically at him. "I'm sorry."

Edmund regained his composure and chuckled. "You sound like Narnia got killed or something. Don't worry, I know it's still there." He stated. "We're just waiting for it to take us back in."

He smiled. "Plus, it's not all bad. I mean, I'm finally back to you. I missed you when I was in Narnia. All I could think of was you."

Realization sets place. Edmund said he lived in Narnia until he was an adult. "Hey Ed,"

Edmund frowned at the sudden change of tone. He shifted, puzzled. "What?"

"Did you . . . " You curled your lips, pouting. " . . . never mind."

Edmund nudged you. "Come on, spit it out. If I can't keep anything from you, then you shouldn't keep anything away from me, That's how it works."

"I can't disagree with that. Blimey, you usually overlook this sort of things."

Smugness overtook Edmund's face. "I've been negotiating with royalties for years, (Your Name). I think I can pick up a thing or two from my experience."

You let out a sigh. "When you were in Narnia," You began, red tinting your cheeks. "Did you have someone else?"

Edmund stared at you blankly for a few moments, not a nudge of expression on his visage, and before you could conclude you broke him or worse, he was thinking of how to tell you that he had another woman back in Narnia without hurting you, until he burst out laughing.

"Are you jealous, (Your Name)?" Asked Edmund chortling. "Oh, this is gold!"

Redness tinted your cheeks as his laughter travelled through the plains, and you turned your head away in embarrassment. Stammering, you spoke up, “I-It’s a reasonable question to ask! As someone you have apparently left for years without me knowing, I have to know!”

Edmund startled you when he wrapped his arms around you and tugged at you until your back is flush against his chest, his legs on either side of you, bent. “You don’t have to be worried because I had no other woman. There’s only one you.” He confessed. “I’m more surprised you still got to ask me that kind of question when literally seconds ago I said you’re all I could think of.”

    “I’m all you could think of?” You hummed out. You turned to look at him, a playful smile on your brims. “Sounds like you’re in love with me, King Edmund, the Just.”

 Edmund scoffed. “I think that should be obvious. I was the one who confessed to you, remember?” He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of your head and you closed your eyes in delight, relishing in his affection. “Now if you say something about this, no more Narnian stories for you.”

You pouted, eyes narrowing at him. “Unfair. Tell me more about Narnia!" You pushed. "Come on, after a long time of keeping it from me? You need to make it up to me right now. Tell me more, tell me more, tell me more," You recited over and over, shuffling on your spot.

Edmund shook his head at your antics. “Of course, I will. I’ll tell you everything about Narnia.” He ran his hand through your hair, and a comfortable silence wrapped the both of you. You wanted to say something but you did not want to shatter the serenity between the two of you. “Or maybe I don’t have to.”

You looked back at him again, neck craning. “What?” You questioned, aghast. Where was this sudden change coming from? Earlier it was all too ready to tell you everything he knows and remembers of Narnia. “Edmund,” You turned around to face him, knees on the ground and hands on his chest. You stared in his eyes deeply. Edmund stared back at you just as intently. “What are you talking about? You just said you’d tell me - “

Edmund took your hands in his own pair and had you wrap your arms around his neck. He put his hands on the small of your back and embraced you. “What if you came to Narnia with me?”

Your eyes glittered at his proposition. “Go to Narnia? With you?” You murmured, hopeful. But then you shook your head, realizing the insanity. “No, no. That’s impossible.”

Edmund frowned, his hold around you loosening. “I thought you believed me.” Asked he, and the hurt and hopelessness in his voice breaking your heart. “I’m confused, (Your Name). Are you playing with me?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You reprimanded firmly, voice hardened with the need to correct him immediately and Edmund was rendered quiet. “I told you I believed you, Ed.” Your eyebrows met in the middle, showing him the disappointment in your eyes. “I believed you in a short amount of time and that might be stupid to others but I choose to believe you and your words. Don’t doubt me now.”

“Right, sorry.” Whispered Edmund. “I guess deep down inside of me I know Narnia is still a hard thing to believe in if I told anyone about it.” He cleared his throat. “Then what do you mean?”

“I mean is,” You hesitated. “I-I mean . . . if Narnia didn’t want me in the first place, what makes you think it’ll accept me now?”

Edmund took your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing the sides of your face. His touch was gentle and you closed your eyes. “You believe in Narnia, don’t you?” He asked, voice dead serious. 

You let out a shuddering breath. “I do.”

Edmund offered you a large smile, and your heart fluttered. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes glistening as well as yours. “Then you’re sure to get in.” He claimed. “I’m not going to leave you for the second time.”

You giggled and rubbed your nose against his, and he wrinkled his nose. “Stop being a baby, Edmund. I thought you were a king!” You pulled away, still giggling. “Where did your maturity moments ago went? You should be taking all my affection with bravery of a royalty!”

“A king still gets flustered every now and then.” Remarked Edmund, and he inhaled. “(Your Name),”

You hummed. “Yeah?”

He poked your nose lightly. “I can’t wait until you experience Narnia with me. With you there, I think Narnia will be more than a just paradise.”

“Cheesy, and cheeky.” You teased him, but in reality, your heart was palpitating with thrill. You wished to see Narnia more than ever, and you knew sooner or later, you will, with Edmund. Everything that took place in the house vanished in thin air, and the strain in your relationship has been lifted and you could breath more properly now. “So, King Edmund, the Just,”

“Oh great, I’m already regretting telling you about this whole Just thing.” Edmund complained as he rolled his eyes.

“I think it’s cute and fitting, shut up.” You tittered, beaming. “So, can you tell me about what happened to you in the Professor’s house to Narnia? Every single detail of what happened, tell me. I’m very curious.”

Edmund began running his hand through your hair again, droning. “I suppose I can tell you. But you’re only going to hear the side of my story. Peter, Susan, and Lucy had other experiences than me. Especially in the beginning.”

“I’ll be sure to ask them their own story.” You promised. “Tell me, now. Before I get impatient.”

“Hmm, where do I start?” Bellowed Edmund. “Perhaps I can first start everything by introducing Aslan.”

At the mention of the name, you felt the wind pick up and it howled in the plains. Your eyes glimmered as the name echoed in your ears.

Edmund chuckled. “You have the same reaction as the other three did.” 

“Oh shush, Ed, just tell me about Narnia and this Aslan man.”

“He’s actually a Lion.”

“A Lion? A Lion! Tell me more!”

[wxlfstxrx]

you drive me nuts (oneshot)

so I received a prompt from @gaeilgelupin to have two of the boys bickering over something stupid while the third just watches and laughs. naturally (or should i say nut-urally), Finn seemed like the kind of arsehole who would just obnoxiously laugh as Logan and Leo argued :")

if you can't tell, there are gonna be bad puns made here. i'm not even sorry.

lots of swearing too. that, I'm sorry about. I couldn't help myself. also, it's a kinda silly oneshot but I had a shit start of the week and I needed some comic relief. just... just humour me, please.

characters by @lumosinlove.

read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627019

The front door to Finn and Leo’s apartment slammed open with a bang, and Logan saw Finn jump from where he was lying sideways on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey—” He started, propped up on an elbow and turning his body halfway to face them, but neither Logan nor Leo paid any notice as they continued bickering.

“I know it’s meant to be a joke, I’m not fucking sensi,” Leo rolled his eyes as he bent down and yanked his worn out white converses off his feet, almost losing balance and gripping onto the wall for support.

Logan snorted, peeling off his black denim jacket. “Well, you’re certainly acting that way, aren’t you?”

“Guys, wha—” Finn started again, but was startled by a loud slam of the bathroom door.

His eyebrows were raised high behind his floppy red hair as he regarded Logan with wide brown eyes. What’s up with him? He mouthed.

Logan rolled his eyes. “He’s pissed because I keep making nut jokes.”

Finn’s face broke into an amused grin.

“Yeah?” He choked out, trying and failing to school his expression into a neutral one.

“Mmhm, and he’s being overly melodramatic about it,” Logan responded, raising his voice intentionally as he leaned on the wall just beside the bathroom door.

“Fuck, Logan,” The bathroom door slammed open, and Leo had the grace to wince and gently pull the door shut as he stepped back out into the living room. 

He closed in on Logan, his eyes glinting dangerously again.

“I fucking swear, if you start again…”

“Yeah? What, you’ll go nuts?” Logan drawled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

“What the fuck,” Finn laughed in surprise, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. Logan glanced at him and winked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

Leo shoved him hard in the shoulder, forcing him to snap his gaze back to the tall, livid boy.

“You’ve been— You’ve been at it the whole bloody afternoon!” He cried exasperatedly. “I don’t know how I haven’t socked you in the jaw yet, to be honest.”

“I guess you could say,” Logan paused for dramatic effect. “That you’re simply a tough nut to crack.”

Leo groaned, about five different expressions flickering across his face in rapid succession, and he ran a hand across his face, choosing not to respond. He turned to head towards the kitchen, picking up the groceries that he had dumped unceremoniously on the floor as he went.

“Of course, I’m sure you’ve heard lots of those over the years, haven’t you?” Logan taunted, arms propped on top of the kitchen counter as Leo silently fumed, unpacking all the groceries and stowing them away.

“Funnily enough, I haven’t. You lot are the first. Shows what a bunch of hooligans you all are, really,” Leo snarled, but Logan detected an undercurrent of affection for the team, and he smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I bet there were many others with puns for your name, they just…” Logan shrugged, fixing Leo with a sympathetic pout. “Did nut tella, is all.”

Leo turned his head slowly, jaw dropped almost comically. Finn was sniggering from behind Logan.

“Come on, babe,” The redhead pitched in. “It walnut hurt for you to let loose a little, laugh with us once in a while. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, or whatever the fuck people say.”

Logan’s face split into a massive grin, whipping his head around to waggle his eyebrows at Finn.

Leo sighed tiredly. “For the last fucking time, my last name is pronounced as newt. Not nut.”

“Whatever do you mean it’s not pronounced as nut?” Logan gasped, a hand flying to his chest theatrically.

“Are you telling me, Logan Tremblay,” Leo’s eyes were narrowed, arms folded across his chest and staring Logan down. It would’ve been a right terrifying sight, if not for the fact that Logan, a full six inches shorter, was rising to the bait, decidedly undaunted by Leo’s massive height advantage. “That I don’t know how to pronounce my own last name?”

“I… No—”

“Then?”

“It was a joke,” Logan threw his hands up. He yanked his cap off, ran a hand through the flattened curls, and slammed it back onto his head.

“Well, it certainly isn’t funny,” Leo growled.

“God, this wasn’t supposed to make you angry. Was just tryna make you laugh, I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” Logan grumbled, turning and attempting to stalk off, but Leo had him cornered before he could even take a step. 

“You’re the one who started this, if you remember,” Leo glared menacingly. He waved his hands around as his voice rose, “Don’t go walking away now. I’m not done.”

Logan dared a glance at Finn, then scowled at the redhead’s still irritatingly gleeful expression. He rolled his eyes and looked back at Leo, pushing his shoulders back and straightening his back. He lifted his chin, giving Leo a challenging look.

Finn howled with laughter from where he had shifted on the couch, arse on the seat, one arm slung over the back of the couch and legs dangling over the side of the armrest. At both Leo and Logan’s warning looks, he clamped his hand over his mouth and shook with mirth.

Logan raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the blank wall behind him in an act of nonchalance. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry, y’know that?”

“Yeah? Then I’m about to get really fucking adorable.” Leo spat.

“Ooookay,” Now both of Logan’s eyebrows were raised, eyes hesitant as he craned his neck to look at him. “What crawled up your arse?”

He could feel the anger radiating off Leo in waves, even as he stood completely still, stormy blue eyes locked with his own bright green orbs. 

Logan swallowed nervously, suddenly realising just how close they were standing. His eyes flickered down to Leo’s full lips and back up to meet his gaze again. If he was being completely honest with himself, he had only continued riling the taller boy up because of how bloody hot he was when he was angry. He hadn’t expected the other boy to get so upset.

But then something flashed in Leo’s eyes, and he took a step closer, bringing one hand to the wall beside Logan’s head, and leaned closer so they were almost nose to nose. He pushed his hips forward so he just brushed against Logan’s rapidly filling erection. 

Ever so slowly, he lifted his other hand up, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips. He ran his tongue along his middle finger, and Logan found that he couldn’t look away from those intense blue eyes even as he saw Leo’s tongue swirling around the tip from his peripheral vision. Leo tilted his head down so he was looking at Logan through his lashes, and Logan had to bite back a moan. 

Fuck, he was so hard.

His eyes widened and he inhaled sharply as Leo plunged his entire finger into his mouth, and Logan broke eye contact, gaze snapping down to watch, open mouthed, as Leo sucked on his own finger, sensually, alluringly, unashamedly. Logan vaguely heard a soft holy fuck from the couch, but his mind was so foggy with lust that he could barely focus on anything else besides his pounding heartbeat ringing in his ears and Leo’s sinfully gorgeous mouth that was still licking and sucking on his long, slim finger.

After several tense moments, when Logan thought he couldn’t hold back any longer, his hands itching to grab Leo by the front of his hoodie and kiss him senseless, Leo pulled his finger out of his mouth, wet with saliva. His lips were shiny and red, and when Logan peered up into Leo’s eyes, the fierce, and frankly insanely sexy look that he received made him weak in the knees.

The blonde boy finally smirked then, one corner of his lips pulling up as his expression changed. He looked… Animalistic. Hungry.

Logan shivered.

Leo turned his wrist from where his hand was still inches away from his lips, such that the back of his hand faced the shorter boy. He lifted his middle finger, which was still slick, and raised a blonde eyebrow. 

“Nothing, and best believe nothing will be up yours either, unless you shut your pretty mouth.”

The silence was deafening for a heartbeat or two, after which Finn burst out laughing, gasping for breath as he clutched his stomach. Seemingly satisfied, Leo turned and strode off into the kitchen as Logan spluttered in confusion.

“Wha— What the fuck?” 

“Fucking hell, babe, I fucking love you,” Finn wheezed, receiving a hum of agreement from the kitchen in response as the refrigerator door opened and closed.

“Merde,” Logan groaned, letting the back of his head thunk against the wall. He pressed his palm to his now obvious erection, willing it to subside as his cheeks flamed. 

“You good there, Lo? Or has our baby Leo right there finally gotten you speechless?” Finn looked like Christmas had come early for how big his grin was.

“Leo’s middle name should be ‘Tease’, fuck’s sake,” Logan muttered, sliding to the floor as he buried his face in his hands in shame.

“And I suppose yours would be ‘Blue Balls’,” Finn chortled. Logan just shook his head, mumbling in rapid French.

“What crawled up your arse, Logan ‘Blue Balls’ Tremblay?” Logan could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He lifted his head up and gave him a reproachful glare.

“Damn you, Nut.”

Finn cackled and pulled Leo, who was seated on the armrest of the couch, beside Finn’s legs, into a deep kiss. Leo reciprocated immediately, but leaned over to place his glass of orange juice on their coffee table to avoid any spillage. With both his hands now free, he slid his hands up the back of Finn’s neck and into his hair, running his fingers through the thick copper curls. Finn moaned as Leo broke the kiss abruptly, and Leo patted his cheek lightly, all anger from earlier seemingly forgotten.

Leo glanced at the clock above the television. “Alright, what should we have for dinner? Gotta start cooking soon if we wanna eat by six.”

“How the fuck can you even be thinking about dinner right now?” Logan asked incredulously. It was no use trying to control himself, his cock was hard and throbbing again.

Leo blinked. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Logan deadpanned. 

“Come on, you idiots. Bedroom. Now. Seeing you angry has gotten me all hot and bothered. I can only imagine how rough you’re gonna be,” Finn had an almost dazed and longing expression as he rolled off the couch, dragging Leo by the hand.

Logan made an approving noise as he made to follow them.

“Completely bonkers, the both of you,” Leo grumbled. “Absolutely nuts.”

Neither Finn nor Logan could hold in their raucous laughter as they doubled over, and Leo couldn’t help but smile too, shaking his head at his two lovers as he shut the door behind them.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, notquiteascrazy!

For @notquiteascrazy​. I hope you'll enjoy it Lex, I tried to stick to your likes as much as I could!!! Merry Xmas, darling!

Read On AO3

*****

The air was thick with snow and the smell of roasted chestnuts and marshmallows, and Alec was staring out from the window of the subway that was taking him home.

He sighed in relief thinking about the fact that at least for the Christmas week, he had a job. At least he wouldn't be forced to stay home alone, drinking a beer and eating a microwave heated pizza, and thinking.

He couldn't go home, not this festivities, not after having left his family business shoving his car and house keys on his father’s desk, shouting that the price was too high for his mental health, seeing all his family's eyes widen in disbelief, because Alec had never said no to anything. Never a quarrel, never an argument, never a sign of disappointment. Anything.

He had endured through high school and university, studying something that made his stomach twitch in disgust still he brought home the best grades, the best results, the best graduation a parent could have ever asked for.

But working more than twelve hours per day for it? It soon became too much to bear.

After two years of sleepless nights, pills, too much coffee, and the beginning of panic attacks, he'd decided to quit and leave that horrible life he crazily had thought he could force himself into.

Sometimes he would say to himself that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, that maybe if he'd resisted a couple of months more, it would have become a routine, but he was aware that that could have never happened.

Alec hated numbers with all his heart, since he was a kid and that really wouldn't do in his family. For centuries, the Lightwoods held a huge business accountant studio that worked with the most outstanding industries, firms of the country, and even some others abroad. He was the eldest, he was supposed to be the heir. But he wasn't. He'd never been, and he never would be.

Izzy, she was the right one. Strong, sharp, determined, assertive and good enough to bring the best out for the family business. She was, and Alec loved her so much. He loved her fierce steps along the corridor when she was angry at someone, the way her voice turned sharp and hard on the phone when she discovered something she didn't like, the way her decisions were quick and always right.

He, instead, had always loved crayons and pencils. He loved the feeling of wood between his fingers, the smell of paper whenever he bought a new sketchbook, the rustling sound of his sleeve or his arm when it slid on the paper, and the brush of the pencil lead as it traced lines that gave life to the images that filled his head.

He wanted to become an artist, to go to an art school and then to an academy of arts, but he never had the courage to ask, never dared to hope, Alec ended up letting the days flow by until it was too late.

So there he was now, living alone in a one-room apartment in the outskirts, shifting from one temporary job to another. Apparently, he was "too much" for every position he applied for.

Too qualified, too experienced, too well paid, too grown up, too tall, too clumsy, too smart, too handsome, too… everything.

Izzy and Jace promised him they would come to visit during the holidays, but Alec knew that his family’s Christmas celebrations were something that they couldn't escape from that easily, with relatives, colleagues and business partners coming from all over the place and staying there until the late hours.

He dropped off the subway and walked home, grabbing a kebab along the way.

He switched on the kettle and slumped on the small couch he opened to sleep in at night, covering his legs with a blanket, patiently waiting for the little electric stove to heat the small room, picking up his phone and texting his siblings he had found a job for the Christmas’ month.

He stood and grabbed the kettle, pouring the boiling water into a mug filled with tea leaves, letting the steam soothe his icy red nose and warm him up. He looked outside the small window at the snow silently falling on the buildings.

He opened the bed and threw himself on it, still clothed. He took his sketchbook and started drawing, staring at his hand gently swaying on it, until he fell asleep, his head dropped on one side of the pillow, his hand clutching the pencil, as the Christmas lights and decorations glimmered on his black locks.

Magnus strolled into his office, his eyes shadowed, his beard a little longer than usual, his tie hanging loose around his neck, as if he hadn't the time to fix it properly.

"Are you ok?" Raphael asked him, a worried look on his face.

"Yes. No. I'm definitely not. It's been the worst night I had in years. Max has thrown up six times to the point his face turned green and I spent the night on the phone with Cat trying to figure out how to stop it and making him drink small sips of water, so he wouldn’t be dehydrated. I'm... fuck , I need another coffee, Raphael," he stopped and crashed on the huge armchair behind his long desk.

Raphael went to the coffee pot and filled a cup, putting some cream in it.

"You could have taken the day off you know? You're the boss here. No one is checking if you come to work or not."

"Are you insane?" Magnus glared at him as he sipped his coffee, it's December, the mall is going to be full and I have to check everything and I … I…"

"You don't want to be alone, I know."

Magnus' expression turned sad and distant. He sighed deeply, staring into the void.

"Probably not," he added, "Anyway, let's get back to work, is everything fixed? The extra decorations, the elves, the little presents for the kids coming and...oh my god, Santa? Have you found him?"

Raphael nodded smiling.

"Your kind of guy to be honest, dark, tall and handsome."

"Ah, stop this Raphael. He's gonna be dressed in a Santa costume, a huge pillow on his belly and a white long beard. Also…you should know that Mr. no one  has become my favourite kind of guy."

"If you say so,"  he smirked.

Magnus stood up and left the cup on his desk, waving his hands in the air, dismissing whatever Raphael wanted to argue back.

"Anyway, let's go and see the elves, I'm curious," and he opened the door, gesturing to Raphael to follow him.

Alec woke up earlier than usual, waiting like twenty minutes for the water to warm and finally shower.

He knotted the towel low on his waist, cursing the cold wind that crawled from underneath the gaps in the window’s frames and went to the sink, grabbing his razor to shave. He stared at his image in the mirror. Why was he even shaving? He was about to wear a long white beard for a week. He brushed his knuckles on his stubble and smiled. It looked good on him. His father never wanted him to grow a beard. He used to say it made him look scruffy and that wouldn't go over well with their clients and partners. But now, who cared anymore? He put the razor back in the drawer and went to the stove to make some coffee. He dressed up slowly,  and ate some toast, while chatting with Jace.

The subway was full of people going to work, some of them dressed in their grey and black suits and he felt relieved; he didn't miss that life at all. He took his sketchbook from his backpack and started portraying their faces, the worried and the sad ones, the abandoned lover and the happy newly wedded one. All of them in their morning run to face the day.

The receptionist stopped him as soon as he entered.

"I'm Alec Lightwood, ehm, Santa Claus…"

"Oh, yes Mr. Lightwood, you're a little early, but since you are already here you can go to the locker room and change. Here's your costume."

She was staring at him, a goofy smile on her face. As he walked away he heard her murmur to the other lady next to her that it was a pity to cover all that glory with a Santa's costume.

He chuckled and took the elevator.

The pillow on his belly was soft but huge and it made him uncomfortably hot, and the faint beard itched a bit on his neck. He wore the heavy boots and realized he was already covered in sweat. It was going to be a very long month.

He entered the Children's Land and spotted the man who interviewed him last week. He was standing next to the most enchanting creature Alec had ever laid his eyes on. He stood frozen in the middle of the large hall of the toy shop, just staring, until Raphael noticed him.

"Oh, there you are! Magnus, he's our Santa Claus," he said and pulled Magnus from his wrist toward the tall red and white figure.

"Alec? Oh, can I call you Alec, right? This is Magnus, the real boss here."

Alec was glad to be disguised when Magnus fully turned to look at him. The man was strikingly beautiful, probably just a little older than he was.

He extended his hand and Magnus mirrored him, shaking it for a split second that to Alec seemed like an eternity.

"Strong grip," Magnus said smiling, "perfect for Santa. Also, your height is just perfect. Let me hear your voice, have you practiced lowering it a bit?"

Alec nodded and was about to let him hear his best Ho Ho Ho , when Magnus' phone rang.

"Cat? How is Max feeling? Better? Oh, thank god, he needed some good sleep. Any fever? No? That's good."

Alec knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he just couldn't help it.

Of course he was married. Of course he had a kid and a beautiful wife waiting for him at home.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Raphael suddenly asked him to follow him toward the big wooden sleigh they had put on the right end corner of the shop.

"This will be your place. You will have a big jute sack behind where you’ll put the letters and a basket full of candies and lollipops for the kids after they have told you their wishes."

Alec listened and nodded.

"Can I make a little drawing for them? Just a sketch of their name or favourite hero?" he asked.

Raphael looked at him amused.

"You can draw?"

"Yes, I'll be quick, I promise."

"Of course you can Alec. It will be an amazing surprise for all of them."

Alec turned and saw Magnus talking to his kid on the phone. His face was soft and he was smiling as if the child could see him. His mind went back to an image of a younger Robert smiling at him. He felt a rush of longing for those days when he was exactly the son their parents had dreamed of. Responsible, always on track, confident, always in the right place at the right moment.

While they were happy, he was overwhelmed. The more they grew proud, the more he was ashamed of himself. The longer they seemed sure of who he was, the further he didn't even know where to begin.

He spun and found Raphael looking at him, brows up to his forehead.

Fuck! He realized he had been staring at what was technically his boss.

He scratched his fingers on the back of his neck trying to think about something good to say and justify his weird behaviour.

"Ahm… he's good with children...not many men are … ehm… it's kinda rare I mean…"

Raphael delighted in the embarrassment he glimpsed in the young man in front of him, and waited amused until Alec fell silent with a frustrated grunt.

Raphael took pity on him and finally laughed, wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, he is.  They love him before he even starts to speak and he can convince them to do whatever he asks. They're kinda spellbound ."

"Yeah I know the feeling."

Alec’s cheeks reddened a bit and he closed his eyes cursing himself for talking without filters, realizing what comment had just left his mouth.

"I mean," he tried, "I know the feeling of being spellbound."

Raphael turned around a little  smirking, “Yeah, he has this effect on everyone he meets."

Alec walked toward the sleigh, checked the basket filled with sweets and sat down, adjusting the pillow on his belly and stretching his legs. He knew they would be bent until late that afternoon. He was glad he hadn’t shaved that morning, otherwise, his pale and delicate skin would have been scratchy in the evening.

He took his sketchbook from his backpack and the crayons, the beautiful watercolour ones that he received on his last birthday from Izzy and Jace, and set them on his left side.

Raphael instructed a couple of photographers where to position the cameras and searched for Magnus again, leaving the last decision up to him. He was the best organizer but he really lacked any sense of aesthetics, which, instead, Magnus was overflowing with. The man was fixing the red berry and frosted pine cone garland on the railing of the stairs, fully concentrated on the task.

"Magnus? Have a look here," he said, "our Santa's sleigh is ready. Just waiting for your last touch.”

Magnus revolved toward the voice and stared for a moment at Alec and the setting, his gaze so intense that Alec felt the urge to divert his eyes. Magnus moved slowly toward the sleigh, bending near the footboards to fix the fake snowflakes and the pine branches.

His movements were slow and graceful, the back of his neck was flexing sinuously following the motion of his hands and fingers, and Alec couldn't keep from staring. His nails were painted in a dark green polish, matching the colour of the spikes in his faux hawk. He was elegant and extremely professional, but there was something sensual too in his overall outfit.

His eyes were stuck to Magnus' fingers that were now fixing the red velvet cloth and cushions on the sled.

"You like the color of the polish or my rings?" Magnus asked abruptly without turning his head and Alec rolled his eyes, because of course he wasn’t able to do anything without being noticed.

He didn't know what to say because, honestly, he liked them both, a lot.

Magnus must have realized his embarrassment because he resumed his talk without even looking at him.

"I picked the dark green this morning because it matches the beautiful colour of the pine needles and also because it matches perfectly with the burgundy red suit I am wearing. The rings...well, they are just a sort of second skin, I never remove them, not even when I sleep or shower."

Alec remained still and silent, lost in Magnus' voice.

"I don't bite, you know. You're allowed to answer or say something," Magnus added seriously, just before bursting into the softest laughter Alec had ever heard, "I'm just teasing you, I was joking."

Alec smiled behind the white soft beard, "Both, I like them both," he whispered.

Magnus stopped his movements and finally raised his head to look at him. He was kneeled on one leg, looking at those hazel big eyes standing out from the furry grey brows. They shined like two emerald gems.

Magnus then stood up and leaned toward Alec, grabbing his white fluffy collar and adjusting it around his neck, next his palms swept over his shoulders and tugged at the fabric a little, to make it adhere to Alec's shoulders. They were broad and straight. The last touch was reserved for his hat. He fixed the pom-pom and then his fingers curled up the mustaches above Alec's lips.

He cocked his head and took a moment to check what he had just done, "Now you're perfect, the perfect Santa. Raphael is the best at making real what I have in mind."

"Raphael knows so well what the boss likes," a voice replied.

"He's right," Magnus said to Alec smirking, "he knows me so well. Ok now. I know he already told you what this whole Santa's thing is about, but I will remind you anyway. Kids will queue here, you will take them on your lap and have a little chat, then ask them for a wish, pick up a candy, and offer them to take a picture with you. Remember the pictures are for free, it's  just for the joy of the kids, and…"

"And while they are waiting for the print I will make them a little sketch."

Magnus frowned.

"Raphael told me I could. I'll be quick, I promise."

"You draw?" Magnus asked.

"Yes."

"As long as you don't make the people wait too long, I think it's a wonderful idea. Keep the last one for me, ok?"

Magnus turned to Raphael.

"Let the kids come. We're ready for the magic to happen."

Alec's first week flew by quicker than he had imagined. He enjoyed talking to the kids and smiled at the incredible, sweet, improbable desires they shared with him. He gave them the sweets and a quick sketch; an animal, a toy, a star, a word, something he made just for them.

Raphael was amazed by how quickly Alec actually sketched. The queue was flowing regularly and no clients complained about waiting too long. Their Santa smiled and laughed with the kids and he didn't seem to become annoyed or bored.

Alec always listened with the same attention, always gave the children space and time to talk, enjoyed their sense of wonder, comforted the sad ones, knew how to deal with tantrums and tears, and never missed to give an encouraging smile to the parents waiting.

In that week, he fell asleep happily after such a long time.

Working at the mall turned out to be very exciting and interesting. Alec had always been fond of people, even if he wasn't very talkative and extroverted. He mostly loved to observe them, the quick glances between the ones in love, the farewell and welcome embraces, the arguments and the tears, the gazes lost in nowhere, the grandparents holding the hands of the kids, and of course, the kisses.

In the days he spent there, especially at the times his shift started and finished, when the mall was emptying, he loved watching Magnus interact with his employees. He was struck by how different Magnus was from his father.  

Magnus was always the first to arrive and the last one to leave, he always had a smile for everyone, he paid attention to all their needs, and always found the right words to say, supportive, encouraging, and caring. He brought coffee and sweets, he offered them lunch and then sat eating with them, laughing and having fun, and whenever he could, he would help them.

There was something in that man that had Alec yearning for his presence whenever he wasn’t around, that had him staring at him when Magnus wasn’t noticing, admiring him. He was beautiful inside and out.

"His wife must be so happy," he absentmindedly said to a cleaner one night as he was helping him pull up all the trash bags. Wei was the oldest one at the mall, and Alec had become his friend. He loved to listen to his stories and his memories, and got his fill of wisdom every day. Alec opened up to him like a father, sharing his personal life, his dreams and his sorrows. He remained with him long after his Santa’s duty was over, listened and helped along the way.

"Who?" said the man.

"Mr. Bane."

Wei stopped moving and cleaning, putting his mop on the floor, smiling at Alec.

"Magnus?"

Alec looked at the old man and smiled, hoisting up two other bags.

"Yes, Magnus."

The man looked back at him, pensively, and then talked.

"Magnus isn't married, and never has been. If you are referring to the fact that he has a child, I will tell you a story worthy of this time of the year. Tea first," and he went to the counter of the locker room and poured some in two cups, handing one to Alec.

"Three years ago, Anne, a young girl that worked at the bookstore, died unexpectedly in a car accident. She was the mother of a two-year-old boy, named Max. When Magnus heard that the social services were searching for a place for Max to stay for the night, he offered to take him home with him, and never left him since then. He applied for adoption, since he was the closest thing to family for that girl and her boy and since he was raised in foster care…"

The man looked at Alec, an unreadable expression on his face, something between awe and seriousness.

"I hope you'll have the chance to know him better, Alec. Magnus is one of the kindest souls that tread on this earth. He's caring, gentle, soft, selfless, he holds a special place in his heart for each of us. He knows all our histories, he never misses a birthday or an anniversary, he covers our shifts when we need a day off and no one can replace us. He's so incredible, that he's almost unreal."

He stood up and took the mop again, "I have noticed the way you look at him."

Alec swallowed, his cheeks getting crimson, "I… I don't…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, he doesn't deserve to be alone," and he bent to grab some empty bottles.

"Leave that to me," Alec said and was quickly on his knees to collect them.

"You're just as kind as he is," Wei said and threw some paper cups in the bin.

Alec remained with him, and they talked until Wei had finished cleaning.

"Your dad will understand sooner or later," he said putting his coat and scarf on.

"He might, but he'll never forgive me," Alec sighed.

"He will understand one day that there's nothing to forgive Alec, you don't have to apologize to anyone for giving voice to your true self, he will understand, believe me. Just give him time."

Alec nodded as they went outside and decided to take a walk. He looked up at the grey thick sky, thinking about Magnus.

He opened his drawing book and checked all the sketches and portraits he'd made of Magnus while he wasn't watching. It would have been really nice to know him better, but December was almost over and he did not even have the chance to present himself.

He exhaled. In another life, maybe.

On his part, Magnus realized he was always finding an excuse to go to the children's store. There was something in that Santa that drew him closer, even if he had never seen his face. The way he moved, his soft, tender voice, the way he got lost in his drawing, and the way he answered the kids. Raphael always made jokes about the fact that he should go to the locker room and have a closer look at the man, but Magnus always dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

As Christmas approached, Alec noticed that Magnus was often around and he never missed the chance to draw him on many different occasions.

“You should show him," he heard Raphael say behind his back as he peeked at the sketch Alec had just made of Magnus standing beside one of the Xmas trees of the mall, sipping from a coffee cup, absorbed in reading, his brows furrowed, his lips curled in concentration.

Alec suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

"Magnus loves beautiful things, and your portrait is amazing, you really should," Raphael stated as he walked away.

Alec closed his sketchbook when a loud thud tore him out of his thoughts. He rushed and found a crying kid on the floor, his knees up to his chin, a thin rivulet of blood on his wrist.

Alec knelt beside him, his voice soft and tender, "Hey, it's all right, I'm here. Can I have a look at your wrist?"

The boy raised his head and found Santa Claus kneeling beside him, asking him to have a look at his injury. He looked around confused, not really knowing what to do, until his eyes rested on another man standing behind his back.

"I'd let him if I were you, his touch might be magical."

Alec looked up and saw Magnus looking at him, gently nodding, encouraging him to go on. So he took the boy's hand and lifted his wrist to have a look at it; then he took out two small packages from his right pocket. He showed them to the kid.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Tom," the boy whispered.

"Okay, Tom. Now I will wipe your wound and disinfect it, it won't burn or hurt, I promise. Then I am going to put a magical Santa patch on it, how does this sound? Will you pick up the drawing while I clean it?"

"Mr. Bane…" Alec started only to stop when Magnus stepped in.

"Magnus." Magnus corrected.

"Magnus can help you pick one, if that's all right?"

The boy smiled and nodded.

Alec passed the small box to Magnus and for a moment their eyes locked. Magnus smiled at him, wide and open, and his gaze softened as their fingers softly brushed, and Alec felt something cracking inside of him, like an egg breaking to let a new life peek through.

He made quick work of the little wound, covering it with a candy cane-shaped patch.

"Now,” he added, “since you have been really brave, why don’t you follow me to pick some candies out from my basket near the sleigh?"

"And I will go and search for your parents," Magnus added, "remain here with Santa."

Later that evening, he was putting his black coat on ready to go home when he heard someone coming.

"Who are you?" Magnus asked, looking surprised at the handsome man standing outside the locker room.

Alec turned and saw him, he seemed almost in a rush. He was about to answer, but he realized he couldn't breathe.

“You don’t look like a thief, so, care to tell me who you are?”

"I’m Santa. I mean, the guy dressed as Santa. My name is Alec," his voice came out barely a whisper.

"Pardon?" Magnus asked him, almost not believing he had heard well.

Alec swallowed as he felt those chocolate eyes scanning him from his feet to the last of his black locks.

Magnus blinked as his heart skipped a beat. Damn Raphael, he was right.

They both remained silent as the veil was raised, staring at each other as their hearts were fluttering.

Finally, Magnus extended his hand to him, "Actually I was searching just for you."

Alec grabbed his hand and squeezed it, his grip strong and certain, "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you for today. The way you acted with that boy…,"

"It was nothing...”

"You turned a bad event into an amazing one, one he will remember for all his life. Plus, you didn't have to, and you did anyway. This says a lot about the kind of person you are, and I never take such things for granted."

Alec was still holding his hand, stuck in a sort of trance. When he realized that, he retracted his palm, "I'm sorry, I need to go…, my sister is waiting for me outside…,"

Magnus nodded.

Alec adjusted the scarf around his neck and moved toward the exit.

"Ah, Alec? We are having a small Christmas party on the 24th, after the mall closes for the clients, why don't you come? It's an open party, we all bring families or partners…," he stopped, waiting for Alec to say something.

"I'd love to, yes, thank you. See you tomorrow," he left and headed to Izzy's car, his heart racing, his head a bit spinning.

Izzy needed just a glance to understand, "Are you ok?"

Alec looked at her and licked his lips, twice, "I don't really think so."

"What's wrong?"

He pressed his fingers at the corner of his eyes, exhaling, "Fuck, Izzy, I think I've fallen in love."

"And what's so terrible about it?"

Alec looked back at her, almost desperate, "He's the owner of the mall, beautiful and sexy as fuck, smart, and kind, and...what do I have to offer him?"

"Yourself, Alec. And believe me, it's not something you easily find around nowadays." She turned the engine on and drove him away.

After the last bowl of popcorn was over, Max was almost asleep against Magnus' chest.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"You were happy tonight when you came back from work, did something happen?"

Magnus kissed him on his head, gently, "Maybe, yes. I was thinking...We have a special Santa this year, do you want to come and make your wish?"

"You'd let me again?”

Magnus nodded and heard Max hum happily.

In that last week, Magnus found every excuse to be around Alec, and Alec always welcomed him with his bright eyes and his soft smile. The more Magnus stayed with him, the more he felt the desire to know him better. Magnus found himself thinking about which books Alec liked reading, what kind of movies did he watch, or what was the food he wanted to eat on a snowy night.

Magnus really wanted to invite him for a drink, but it was Christmas week and Max was at home with Cat the whole day, waiting for him to come home. That was what being a father was about. Putting Max first, every time, and Magnus knew not many would want a committed relationship with a lone parent.

Christmas Eve was really busy. Alec was searching for Magnus, but he never showed up. He wanted to see him one last time, since he’d decided not to show up to the party. He wanted to thank him for having made this month the best he had in years. All the customers had almost left when he spotted him at the end of the queue, holding a little boy in his arms, and chatting with him.

Max was the last kid of the day. Magnus knelt, putting him down and letting him walk toward Alec, to make his wish for this Christmas.

He knew that Max always asked for one thing, no matter if it was Christmas or if he was blowing his birthday candle, or watching a shooting star. All the others Santa had always given him silly answers, -- this is not a thing you can ask Santa, or this is a thing you should ask in your bedtime prayers, or Santa brings only toys-- , leaving Max always sad and deluded.

Why was he expecting Alec to give a different answer, he didn’t know.

As Max came closer, Alec opened his arms and pulled him up on his thighs, looking at him.

“And you are?”

“Max. Dad said you are a special Santa, so maybe you are the one who can finally help me with my wish?”

“I’ll do my best. What is it?”

"Can you bring my mum back?"

Alec felt like he had been slapped by a cold hand right on his face, as his eyes filled with tears.

He raised a hand and caressed Max’s cheek, staying silent as some seconds passed by, conscious of the other pair of eyes that were staring at him, aside from Max’s.

Alec thought carefully about the answer and then he started talking, “I wish I could, Max, but I can't. There are many things that happen in life that we can’t turn back or change, no matter how much we’d want or try to. Your mum has passed now and this means she can't come back, but there is something you can do about this. You can find her in the small things of your life, in the scents that remind you of her, in the melody she used to sing when she lulled you to sleep, in the words of a story she used to tell you at bedtime, in the way your smile probably looks like hers, and…,” he raised his gaze to look at Magnus who seemed visibly touched by his words, "... in the love your dad is giving you. In this way, it will be as if she never really left you. I know you miss her presence, her touch, and her voice, but if you close your eyes and search into your heart, you will find her there.”

Max looked intensely at the man in front of him, processing the words, serious and concentrated, then his face brightened in a sunny smile.

“Dad was right, you’re the best Santa I have ever met.” Max replied as he looked between his dad and Santa. He may not have his mom’s warm hugs anymore but Max did have his Dad’s embrace and bedtime stories. “Thank you Santa. I think you’re right.”

Alec let out a startled laugh as he held the candy basket out for Max, “Now, any other wish I can help you with?”

“Is there something you wish to have back and can’t, just like me?”  Max finally asked, picking up a candy cane.

Alec inhaled a sharp breath, “Of course there is.”

Max smiled and looked up at Alec, “Then come and spend Christmas with us, so you can tell me.”

Alec cleared his throat, “Leave a plate with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate, and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”

Then he kissed Max on his head, picked his sketchbook and drew a big comet on it. Giving it to the kid he told him, “Never stop believing Max, the best things come to us when we less expect them. Merry Christmas.”

He stood up, tearing another sheet from it, walked toward Magnus who was still kneeling and staring at him, handing him the drawing, “This is for you.”

Magnus looked at his portrait on the paper. He wanted to say something, but voices and laughters were coming from the hall of the mall, signalling that the Christmas party was about to begin.

“Magnus, Max?” they heard Raphael call.

Alec stepped back, grabbed his pencils and went to change his clothes, leaving Magnus and Max there.

He felt his heart aching at the idea of leaving without a word, but he knew that going to the party would have only meant to feel even worse when he had to say goodbye. He dressed up and before leaving he put a drawing next to the locker of each of the persons he had met and worked with, in those days.

“So you’re not coming,” he heard Wei say.

He turned, his eyes were red with unshed tears, that he wasn’t ashamed to show. “It would only be worse later. I’m already lost. I don’t want this to be out in the open, and if I ever get in there, with him, with them, I won’t be able to disguise it. Thank you for being my friend and confidant while I was here,” he told Wei as he hugged him, “Watch over him and make sure he’ll give his heart to someone worthy. Say goodbye to everyone, it’s been an honour working here.”

He patted the man on his back one more time, and then made his way out, deciding to walk home and let the snowflakes wash away the tears that were streaming down his face.

At the party, Magnus was trying to get distracted, but his mind was fixed on Alec, on the way he answered Max, and on the way the boy had seemed to want Alec in their lives.

Maybe he was the right one.

He would have asked him out, if only the man would show up, but he didn't, and Magnus had lost his hopes.

He was standing next to the bar, drinking and staring into the void.

"Drinking to celebrate or to forget?" Wei asked him.

"Neither of these, just drinking and enjoying the two days of rest we have ahead of us."

The old man hummed and took a glass himself.

"It seemed you were searching and waiting for someone who didn't come," he said, “Alec went away."

Magnus frowned and then exhaled, his voice turning sharp and bitter, "Ah yes, I call it the lone parent effect. It never fails to strike."

Wei looked at him, savouring his cocktail. The man looked to be weighing something in his mind before he spoke.

"He went away because he has feelings, and feared that these weren't reciprocated."

Magnus put down his glass on the counter.

"Who told you?"

"He did, just before leaving. And that's not the only thing I know about him."

Magnus shook his head, smiling, feeling his heart expand.

"Sit here with me and let's have a talk, Magnus."

The morning sun hit Alec right in the eyes and he cursed himself for not closing the curtains enough last night when he’d come home. He remembered feeling sad and being a bit tipsy, after stopping along the way to have a couple of beers.

He wasn't really used to drinking, so he always ended up confused and hobbling, until there was a couch or a bed to fall into.

Alec got up and stretched his arms and legs, staring at the thick snow already covering the roofs, and still falling from the pearly grey sky.

Jace and Izzy were out of reach for a couple of days, trapped in all those pompous meetings his parents always held at their place.

He put the coffee pot on the stove and took a pan, opened the fridge and looked at the watch. Nine o'clock. It was going to be a very long day.

He toasted some bread and cooked two sunny side up eggs, and put the plate on the table. He was scrolling his phone while eating, chuckling at the secret pics his siblings were sending him, before taking the still fuming cup of coffee, and going back to the couch, opening a book.

After a while he went to take a shower and then warmed some other coffee before getting dressed.

That's when he heard the doorbell ring.

He quickly put on a thorn old sweater he used at home and a pair of loose sweatpants. It must have been the old lady on the first floor, she knew he was alone.

He opened the door, threading his hand through his already ruffled hair and lost all his capacity to think and speak when he saw Magnus and Max, hand in hand, standing on the threshold of his small apartment, on that Christmas morning.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start from. Magnus was looking at him, a shy smile on his face, a doubtful look in his eyes, as if he was sorry for showing up without calling him first.

Luckily Max was there too.

"So your real name is Alec?" the boy asked him.

Alec looked at Magnus, asking for silent permission, before nodding back.

"Me and dad had a talk about Santa," Max giggled, "he says that mall Santas are only interns right now. Like high ranking elves! Now I know why no one could help me, but at least, your words were honest, and we are here for a reason," and he elbowed his father on his leg.

Magnus seemed lost for a moment, trying to find the right words, then looked at Alec and said, "We were wondering if you would come and spend these two Holiday days with us. Our home is big enough and we have a spare room."

Alec looked at him and shrugged, incredulous.

"I want you to come, Santa Alec, please."

"And you?" Alec asked Magnus.

"I would love to. I would love to know you better, if you'd let me."

Alec smiled and it felt as if the sun had ripped through the clouds, even if it was still snowing, "I would love that too."

Magnus winked at him, "So that's settled. We will wait for you in the car while…"

Alec grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't invite you in, I was… distracted. If you both don't mind the small place, I have some warm coffee and I can make you a hot chocolate Max."

As they sat on the couch, Alec warmed the coffee and prepared the chocolate.

The radio was playing in the background -- It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas --, Alec looked at Magnus intensely as he handed him the cup, and maybe, from now on, life was really beginning to look a lot like something they had been waiting for, for a long time.

[yoddream]

recluse | n.jm

pairing: jaemin x fem!reader

summary: being a teenager was difficult. being a teenager in new york city living the life as a superhero was next to impossible.

word count: LMAO I ACTUALLY HAVE ONE THIS TIME 14.6k i’m sorry

warnings: swearing, secret keeping(???), violence, a lot of talk about stitches, choking, chenle being mad cute

notes: y’all i’m not gonna lie, i don’t know how i feel about the writing of this. it was really difficult, and i feel like there are things that could’ve been left out, but i also feel like they show development. idk, lemme know what you think. also, is this beta-read? of course not

It started out with a simple spider bite. All you wanted to do was go on a field trip with your science class to a genetics lab, maybe get some pictures in, but it couldn’t be that easy. That was your life. The tour guide had shown you spiders that they were testing on. You looked in one of the cases and noticed it was empty. Before you could say anything, something stung your neck.

You couldn’t really remember what happened after that. The rest of that day was hazy. You’d woken up the next day with perfect vision, muscles, and webs shooting from your wrists. You’d decided to use your new “powers” (because Renjun refused to call them anything else) to fight crime. Of course, it hadn’t been your idea. Your best friend, Huang Renjun, convinced you to use it for good because “what was the point of having webs shoot from your wrists and being able to climb walls if you weren’t going to use them for anything?” The point is that you would be safe, but he never listened to that reasoning. Thus, Recluse was born.

You were grateful for whoever named you “Recluse.” It was definitely better than when the mayor had tried calling you “Spider-Girl.” It hadn’t sat right with anyone, so some journalist came up with your name. You stopped criminals before they could get away from the police, and every once in a while, there was a villain who’d somehow developed superpowers that you had to fight to protect the city. It was amazing how your attendance wasn’t atrocious with the amount of times you had to go out and fight crime. Then again, whenever you went out to fight the schools of New York City would be dismissed early.

Of course, you couldn’t take all the credit for the work you did. Renjun and his cousin, Chenle, were the ones that helped track the crime. You could feel the danger, but it was still hard to find it. Chenle was also your nurse. Whatever injury you had, he tended to it. Luckily, there hadn’t been any critical wounds yet, but you feared the day he couldn’t do anything but bring you to the hospital.

You walked to your biology class with Renjun and Chenle on either side of you, talking about how to improve the system that detected crime. They weren’t being quiet at all, and you were scared someone was going to find out your secret, so you elbowed them in their sides. They complained to you about how cruel you were, but you stopped them.

“If you want people to find out the truth, keep fucking talking, but I personally don’t want anyone to know who I am,” you hissed.

They hung their heads and apologized as you stopped outside your class. Rolling your eyes, you pushed them in the direction of their classes before heading inside. You took your seat at the lab table, already regretting taking the course. It was an AP class, so it wasn’t required, but you figured it would look good on college applications. Now, though, you just wished you had study hall instead so you could nap. You’d been up late the night before stopping an art thief, and you hadn’t gotten home until three in the morning.

The stool next to you screeched as your lab partner sat down. You glanced over at Na Jaemin and grabbed a napkin from your bag before handing it to him. He looked at you in confusion, so you motioned to your own mouth.

“You’ve got some lipstick,” you mumbled.

He let out a surprised, “oh!” and wiped his face, grimacing at how much red was stained on the napkin in his hand. “Thanks. I asked Alli if she’d left anything, but she apparently lied to me.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you busied yourself with getting your binder and book out. The feeling of someone watching you was making your skin itch, so you looked towards the doorway. Jaemin’s girlfriend, Alli, was glaring at you from the hallway before she stomped away. Your blood ran cold as you feared what she would do to you. Alli wasn’t scared to hit somebody, and she picked on you more than others because you were Jaemin’s lab partner.

You maybe also had a slight crush on him. How couldn’t you, though? He was handsome, he was nice, and he was smart. He never treated you poorly, unlike the people who actually knew you existed. Whenever you two had to work on a lab, he listened to every word you said, even though biology was probably boring to him. It was east to develop a crush on Jaemin.

Class dragged on as your teacher showed some documentary. There were definitely some snores from a couple kids around the room. You could feel your own eyes start to slide shut, but if you fell asleep you were sure to get a detention. Sometimes, you really regretted becoming Recluse. You didn’t sleep as much anymore, and it was taking a toll on your classwork. You couldn’t just disappear, though. Crime would increase tenfold once word got around that Recluse had left.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the period. You gathered your things and stepped into the hallway, ready to head to your next class. You could see Chenle and Renjun heading towards you, but before you could take another step, your hair was yanked as you were thrown into a row of lockers. A silence fell upon the crowd as Alli hovered over you, your body curled up on the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, flirting with my boyfriend?” she asked before kicking you in the stomach.

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” you gasped out as you tried to stand up.

She growled and yelled, “Liar!” before punching you in the face. “You gave him a napkin to wipe his face!”

“He n-needed—” You were cut off by another punch to the face.

“Alli, what the hell?” you heard Jaemin shout, tearing the girl off you, but not before her fist connected with your cheek one more time.

Renjun and Chenle rushed over and helped you down the hallway as Jaemin and Alli got into an argument. You were led into a classroom that was used for storage and sat on a desk. Chenle pulled a first-aid kit from his backpack and put on some gloves before he started dabbing at the cuts on your face while Renjun stood nearby.

“Ow, ow, ow!” you whined.

“I know, I know. It’ll be over soon,” Chenle said apologetically.

“God, that girl is insane,” Renjun commented as the bell rang for the next class.

“Maybe he’ll actually break up with her this time,” the younger boy replied.

“I did.”

The three of you turned to the doorway where Jaemin was standing, seemingly out of breath. He took a small step forward, as if he was scared of getting too close. Chenle turned back to you and put a couple bandages on your face before throwing everything away.

“So much for the teachers stepping in,” he mumbled. “Do you feel dizzy at all? Are the lights too bright?”

“I’m fine, Chenle. No concussion,” you assured him.

“Can I talk to Y/N for a second?” Jaemin asked.

Your friends looked to you. You nodded to them that it was okay, so they packed everything up and headed out, but not before Chenle pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was very protective of you since he was the one that tended to your wounds every time you were Recluse.

“Does this happen often?” Jaemin questioned as he eyed your bandages.

“I’m really clumsy,” you lied.

“Alli also hates that Y/N’s your lab partner!” Renjun called from the hallway.

“It’s mostly because I’m clumsy.” You looked around the classroom before returning your attention to him. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

He rose an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you?”

You waved your hand. “Nobody notices that I’m missing.”

He frowned but nodded. “Okay. See you ‘round, Y/N.”

As soon as he was gone, Renjun and Chenle appeared in the doorway. You rolled your eyes, grabbed your bag, and jumped off the desk, but you doubled over from the pain that blossomed from your stomach. They rushed over and helped you stand, the three of you silently hoping the city wouldn’t need Recluse until you were healed. Of course, the world was cruel and never listened to your silent pleas.

You were fighting Silver Slash. He was a new villain, one that looked like an Edward-Scissorhands wannabe. You had no idea what he’d been using the blades for, but it definitely wasn’t for good. He cackled as you chased him through the streets, easily slicing through whatever web you shot. You were swinging when he lashed out, cutting your stomach. You immediately fell and skid across the asphalt.

“Y/N!” Renjun and Chenle shouted in the earpiece.

“I’m fine,” you grunted as you held your middle.

Silver Slash swiped out again, nicking your arm. You cried out and attempted to shoot a web at him, but he dodged it with ease and tripped you up. You fell hard on the ground and groaned when his foot landed on your stomach. One of the blades rested on your neck, and you froze. Any wrong movement could end your life.

“No,” Renjun mumbled.

“Give it up, Recluse. You’ve got nowhere to go,” Silver Slash said with a cackle.

With quick thinking, you shot web at his face. He yelped and stumbled back, barely missing your face with his blade. You then pinned the entirety of his arms to a building, leaving him defenseless. The police arrived as you clutched at your wounds. An EMT started to approach you, but you panicked and attempted to swing away. When you tried to use the arm that was cut, you couldn’t help but yelp in pain, and you let go of the web. You managed to shoot out before you hit the ground.

A lot of excruciating pain later, you were lying on Chenle’s desk as he stitched you up, apologizing profusely whenever you whimpered. Renjun was sitting on the bed, his face twisted with worry. This wasn’t the first time you were seriously hurt, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the blade that had rested along your throat. Your fights were usually broadcasted on TV or some social media website, so it was easy for your friends to watch.

“Okay, all set,” Chenle said before helping you sit up.

You pulled your shirt down and looked at Renjun. He stood up and walked over, pulling you into a tight hug. You could feel Chenle join from behind, being careful of your new stitches. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you managed to hold them in.

“Don’t scare us like that again,” Renjun mumbled into your neck.

“You know I can’t promise that,” you said.

“Pretend you can. Just for tonight,” Chenle begged.

Sighing, you told them, “I promise.”

///

You walked into school slowly, worried you would break the sutures Chenle had so meticulously sewn into your stomach a few days ago. This was your first day back since the fight with Silver Slash; normally you would be worried of somebody linking the two, but you were in so much pain that you hadn’t cared. Your Aunt May was furious that you’d been badly hurt, but she’d let you stay home to recover a little.

“What the hell are you doing carrying your backpack?” Renjun hissed as he started to slide it from your shoulder.

“Trying not to cause any suspicion, asshole. I’d rather be in pain than have somebody find out who I am,” you snapped quietly.

“Fine, but if your stitches somehow manage to rip open, good luck. Chenle doesn’t have that shit in his first-aid kit.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your locker and started switching books out. “I’ll be fine, Renjun.”

He and Chenle walked you around the whole school, refusing to leave your sides until they saw you sit down for the period. When they dropped you off at biology, Jaemin was already there, which was surprising. Then again, he no longer had a girlfriend to hold him up.

“Hey, you’re back,” your lab partner commented.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“You said that nobody notices when you’re missing, but I did,” he explained.

“O-Oh. Well, congratulations. You’re the only one besides Chenle and Renjun.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, so you turned to your backpack, but you winced in pain as your stitches pulled when you reached for your bag.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied.

You tried to focus on the lecture, but your whole body still hurt. Out of all the things you’d developed when being bitten by that stupid spider, you didn’t get healing. It was infuriating, having to sit out and be careful of whatever wounds you were given. Thankfully, the city understood when you couldn’t show up, especially when they always watched the beating you were given. The stitches were definitely a setback, but you didn’t have much choice but to wait for it to completely heal.

At the end of class, Jaemin picked up your backpack and walked out the room, ignoring your protests. When you exited the room, he was waiting by the door. Renjun and Chenle were a few feet away, confused at the scene that was before them.

“Give me my backpack,” you demanded.

“You’re clearly still in pain from the fight,” Jaemin argued.

You froze as your friends gasped quietly. “What?”

Did he know you were Recluse? You’d tried for so long to keep it a secret, so how’d he figure it out?

“When Alli beat you up? Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” he asked.

Oh, thank god. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m still in a little pain, but my friends can help me.”

“No way. She was pissed at you because of me, so I’ll carry your things. It’s the least I could do after what she did.”

You knew you would lose this argument, so you sighed and started walking to your next class. Chenle and Renjun caught up with the two of you, Chenle throwing an arm over your shoulders. You winced when his hand brushed against the stitches in your triceps. Hiding your injuries was going to be a lot harder than you thought, especially when everyone thought your injuries weren’t as bad as they truly were.

When you reached the lunchroom, you walked over to your usual table and sat down, Renjun and Chenle taking their usual spots across from you. Instead of dropping your bag and leaving, Jaemin took one of the seats by your side and started pulling out a lunch box from his backpack.

“Uh,” you stuttered.

“Don’t you usually sit with the Lees and that Park kid?” Renjun questioned.

“Yeah, but Jisung is Alli’s cousin, and Jeno and Haechan are friends with her,” Jaemin explained. “I’ve been hiding from them the past few days.”

Two trays landed on the table harshly, making the four of you jump. Haechan and Jeno were glaring at the boy next to you, making him cower under their gaze. You could see Jisung standing nearby, looking more upset than angry.

“Dude, where the hell have you been?” Jeno demanded. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I-I—”

“You broke up with Alli and fucking disappeared,” Haechan added.

“Aren’t you guys friends with her?” Renjun asked.

Jeno shook his head. “We’re friends with Jisung. When Jaemin and Alli started dating, he invited Jisung to sit with them. We joined, like, a day later.”

“I hate my cousin,” Jisung piped up. “Sitting with them was like sitting alone, so I brought them with me.”

“Well, feel free to join us,” Chenle said with a grin.

The three boys didn’t hesitate to join your little group. Jisung sat next to Chenle, while Jeno sat next to you and Haechan next to Jaemin. You gingerly pulled your lunch out of your bag, your stitches stretching with every move. You managed to get it without drawing attention to yourself, which was good. They boys that had invaded your table hadn’t noticed you at all, so you were able to eat without worrying about them staring at the bruises on your face.

Halfway through lunch, the hairs on the back of your neck rose. It wasn’t from danger, but rather somebody watching you. You slowly turned around and found Alli’s eyes on you. If looks could kill, you’d have been murdered. You whipped back around, wincing at the stitches in your stomach pulling. Renjun sent a questioning look your way, but you shook your head. You didn’t want your friends to worry about you.

When the bell rang, Jeno turned to you and asked, “Ready for math?”

You were shocked. “You know who I am?”

He chuckled and nodded. “You and Chenle sit in the back, and you were in my English class a couple years ago.”

“Not to mention you got the shit kicked out of you a few days ago,” Haechan added, which earned him a slap to the back of the head from Jaemin.

“Ignore him. He’s just pissed he didn’t know who you were until after that.”

“It’s not fair!” Haechan whined. “I wanna know who finally made Jaemin break up with that bitch!”

Stares were definitely directed towards you when people saw Jeno not only walking with you, but also carrying your backpack. Who was this girl that was suddenly in the company of first Na Jaemin, and then Lee Jeno? You didn’t like the attention on you; it was invasive, having everyone stare at you as you simply walked to your next class. You hoped it wouldn’t last long.

At the end of the day, you managed to escape that horrid building without running into any of the boys. You needed some time to yourself to breathe and not worry about being Recluse or having your classmates stare as you were accompanied by a group that was more popular than you. It felt weird to walk home by yourself, though. Usually Chenle and Renjun would accompany you on their way to Koreatown.

Their parents grew up along the border of Korea and China, and even though Chenle’s parents moved to Shanghai once they were married, he learned Korean from them. Renjun learned both languages from living where he did. Renjun moved to New York first, his parents unable to find a place in Chinatown so they found a place in Koreatown. When Chenle’s family moved to New York a few years later, his parents wanted to be close to Renjun’s family, so they moved into the same neighborhood. You knew the other guys also lived there, their parents either being from Korea or first-generation Korean-American.

“Hey Aunt May,” you said when you entered the apartment.

“Hey! Where are Renjun and Chenle?” she asked as she exited the kitchen.

You shrugged. “I left school before them.”

“Everything okay?”

“Fine.”

You headed to your room without another thing to say. You so badly wanted to collapse onto your bed, but you couldn’t with the stitches. Frustrated, you threw your backpack to the ground and laid down. Your hands grabbed at a blanket and pulled it over your body and face. You couldn’t move your body however you wanted, you couldn’t carry your own fucking backpack, and you couldn’t swing through the city to clear your thoughts. You felt trapped.

There was a sudden knock on your window. You jumped at the sound that tore through your quiet room. Your curtains were opened, so it wasn’t like you could just ignore it. Annoyed, you removed the blanket from your head to find Renjun and Chenle on the other side of the glass, the younger boy holding up his first-aid kit. You opened your window to let them in.

“Did you forget your appointment with Nurse Zhong?” Chenle joked. “Lie back on your bed.”

You did as you were told and pulled your shirt up enough to reveal the stiches. Chenle pulled some gloves on and started poking and prodding, cleaning around the wound. Renjun stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched.

“What happened to you earlier? Haechan said he saw you rushing down the street when school ended,” Renjun said.

“I just needed some time to myself,” you stated.

Chenle frowned with a nod. “Yeah, today was odd. I felt really overwhelmed by the time the last bell rang. The wound seems a little irritated, but that could be from moving around so much. Nothing seems to be infected, though, so that’s good. Let me check out your arm, and then you should be all set.”

He helped you sit up and lifted your sleeve to check the other cut. Once he determined that it was okay, he put new bandages over the sutures and packed everything up. Then, he and Renjun sat on the bed with you in silence, knowing you didn’t want to speak but needed them to stay. You eventually took your homework out and worked on it together. When Aunt May knocked on your door, she told the three of you that dinner was ready. Even though she didn’t have the super senses you did, she always knew whenever your friends were in your room, whether they came through the door or the fire escape.

After the boys were gone, you crawled onto the fire escape wearing a large sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants; you were pretty sure neither of them belonged to you, but that was what Chenle and Renjun got for leaving them at your place. You watched the cars drive by below, their headlights and brake lights mesmerizing. Aunt May joined you not too long after, two mugs of hot chocolate in her hands.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” she asked.

You let out a sigh. “I think my friend group is about to grow to six people, and I don’t want it to.”

“How come?”

“Because I either have to keep my secret from four people, or I have to tell them all. I don’t know which one is worse.” You took a sip of your hot chocolate and looked at the city that you’d dedicated your life to protect. “One could put them all in danger, and one could ruin everything when they eventually find out.”

“You think they’d find out?” she questioned.

“Chenle wasn’t supposed to find out, but I showed up in Renjun’s room with my suit torn from Dr. Octopus,” you pointed out. “Do you remember how upset he was that he didn’t know?”

Your aunt let out a loud laugh. “Oh, I remember. He wouldn’t talk to either of you for almost two weeks. What changed his mind, again?”

Your mood dropped. “I showed up at Renjun’s again with that gash in my side. Their families were having dinner, and I fell to the floor in Renjun’s room. He knew that it was me, so he came by to check on me. He almost screamed when he saw all the blood, but I’d managed to stop him in time. By the time their dinner was over and Chenle came by to check on Renjun and me, I’d already lost so much blood that I almost passed out.”

Aunt May wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “That’s right. He had a first-aid kit in his backpack with sutures stolen from the vet’s office he works at, right?”

Nodding, you said, “He was so calm when stitching me up, but then he started crying once everything was away and I was bandaged. He begged me to go to him whenever I needed help, and our friend group was suddenly okay again. We had to throw away so many towels, though. Mrs. Huang was so pissed that half of them were missing, so the three of us saved up money to replace them.

“God, Aunt May. I can’t do that to four more people. Renjun and Chenle go through so much when dealing with me. I won’t make the others do the same.” You placed your head in your hands and shook your head. “What the hell am I gonna do?”

Your Aunt took a deep breath as she thought. She wanted you to have more friends, but your life wasn’t normal enough to just make them left and right. You had to really choose who you could trust just in case your secret was revealed to them. “I think that you should trust your gut. It sounds like you want to be friends with them, and your secret shouldn’t stop you from doing so. Your secret can’t be hidden forever, and that’s something you have to accept. You just have to hope that when they do eventually find out, they’ll still be your friend. If not, then good riddance.”

You smiled and hugged Aunt May. She was all you had after your parents died in a plane crash. You were just a baby when it had happened, and she was barely twenty-three when she adopted you, but you had nowhere else to go. There were no other relatives, and nobody liked to see a family split up. She always knew how to solve your problems, and you were forever grateful for that.

///

The day your stitches were taken out, you immediately put on your new suit (thanks to the anonymous donor that always made you one; you had your suspicions that it was Tony Stark, but there was no way to prove it) and swung through the city, finally landing on a skyscraper to look at city you called your home. You could hear the people below notice you and start gossiping. It didn’t take long for all of New York to know that Recluse was back.

There was a sudden alarm going off a few streets away. It was from a car, and you could hear glass shatter as someone broke into it. Shooting a web to a nearby building, you made your way to where the crook was. You landed on the car as it sped off, almost losing your balance. Kneeling down, you poked your head through the broken window.

“You know, motor vehicle theft can send you to prison for up to four years,” you announced.

You shot a web at the brake pedal, and the car came to a screeching halt. The thief tried to punch you, but you dodged it with ease. Flipping off the car, you opened the door and wrapped the thief up before dragging him out the car. He tried to rip the webbing, but everyone in New York knew that it was difficult to do with your bare hands.

What you didn’t expect was for the thief to have a knife. He cut through his restraint and lunged at you. You managed to escape the blade, crying out, “Hey! I just got my stitches taken out!”

You punched him in the face and then kneed him in the stomach. He dropped the knife, so you kicked him in the side and restrained him as the police arrived. Before they could say anything to you, you shot a line to the closest building and flew through the streets.

“Welcome back, Recluse,” Renjun said in your ear.

“It’s good to be back.”

You were heading home when you heard a scream. Changing direction, you landed upon Jaemin being held over the edge of a bridge by a couple random gang members. Your heart raced at the sight; seeing someone you knew in danger was completely different than the regular civilian.

“Now, what should we do since we have him?” one of the guys asked with a smirk.

“Please, let me go!” Jaemin begged.

“Let you go? Okay,” the other man said.

Everything was suddenly in slow motion. You flew forward as they let Jaemin drop. Webs shooting out, you trapped the gang members to a tree as you went over the bridge as well. One arm wrapped around Jaemin as another shot a string out to swing you over to a hill nearby. Jaemin fell to the ground, so you crouched down. His eyes were wide with fear that still coursed through his veins, despite him being safe.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He looked at you before lunging forward to pull you into a hug. “Thank you, Recluse.”

His voice was so weak, and his whole body was shaking. You hugged him back, carding your gloved fingers through his hair. “No problem. It’s what I’m here for.”

Somebody must’ve called the police, because you could hear them arrive to the tree the gang members were stuck to. You stepped away from Jaemin and tried to leave, but he stopped you. One look at him told you he was afraid to walk the rest of the way home.

“I’ll follow you from up high, okay?” you promised.

He nodded and watched you swing to the apartment building that was nearby. He started his walk back home, and you followed him like you promised. He flinched every time someone walked near him, but then his shoulders relaxed a little once they were gone. As he reached the steps to his building, he looked up. He raised a hand to wave at you before heading inside. You listened until you heard his parents greet him, and then you headed back home.

“Was that Na Jaemin?” Renjun asked.

You jumped, forgetting that Renjun and Chenle could hear everything. “Yeah. He needed some help.”

The next morning, you could hear Jeno telling Haechan and Chenle about Recluse stopping the car thief. You approached the group with a grin and threw an arm around Chenle’s shoulders, despite him being taller than you. It didn’t take long for the others to join you, and Jeno repeated the story for them, since he’d watched the stream of the fight.

“God, Recluse is amazing,” Jeno said with a happy sigh.

“And she’s hot,” Haechan commented.

“How do you know? She wears a mask,” Renjun pointed out.

“Her body, duh! Her suit fits her really well.”

“She saved me last night.”

Everyone turned to Jaemin, completely shocked at what he told them. Jisung was brave enough to ask, “What happened?”

“Some, uh, some gang members hung me over a bridge and dropped me. She caught me in time.”

You could feel Renjun and Chenle’s eyes on you. So maybe you forgot to tell them what had happened. It was traumatizing for both you and Jaemin. One wrong move, and he would’ve been dead. You were so glad you hadn’t messed up, but you’d also barely got that string of web to hit the bridge before your bodies slammed to the ground.

“Holy shit, dude. Are you okay?” you asked.

“I am now. I would be dead if it wasn’t for her,” he said, a small smile on his face as he talked to you.

It was Friday, so everybody was on edge, ready for the weekend to start. Jisung and Chenle apparently had plans to go to the arcade that had opened last week in Koreatown. Jeno and Haechan were going to Boston for the weekend. Jaemin had relatives visiting, so he was stuck home. You and Renjun lied about having your own plans when you were invited to Boston, but the truth was that you had to stay in case Recluse was needed, and Renjun refused to let you work alone, even if it was for a couple days.

That night, you couldn’t help but put on your suit and travel to Jaemin’s place. What he’d gone through wasn’t something anyone could get over quickly. You made sure your earpiece was off so Renjun didn’t know you were out. What you were doing was completely reckless, but you needed to know that he was okay, especially after your talk with Aunt May.

You landed on the fire escape and peeked into his room. He was sitting at his desk, doing his homework. Tapping on the glass, you watched him whip around and smile before coming over to open the window. He leaned against the windowsill and propped his chin on his fist, staring at you.

“On patrol?” he asked.

“You could say that,” you replied, pitching your voice a little deeper to disguise it. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Good, I guess. Didn’t sleep very well last night, but my friends luckily live in the same neighborhood with me, so I didn’t have to walk home alone after school. Why, are you worried about me?”

“I worry about everyone I save,” you stated. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. See you around.”

He told you to wait, but you ignored him to head back home.

///

You crawled through Chenle’s window and fell to the ground, announcing your arrival. You knew he was home, so you hoped he was the one that found you and not his parents. Your side still hurt like hell from the electrocution of Dr. Octopus’ tentacles. He’d broken out of prison and managed to get his machine back, and the fight was brutal.

The door flew open, slamming into the wall. You looked over and found not only Chenle, but Jisung as well. Your eyes widened at the sight of one of your new friends, and you started to panic. Chenle, however, sprang into action and pulled out his first-aid kit.

“Damn it, why didn’t you call me?” he asked.

“Didn’t realize you had a friend over,” you replied.

“We ran home when we heard about Dr. Octopus. Jisung, go to the fridge and grab an ice pack. Wrap it in a towel from the linen closet and bring it back here,” he ordered. When Jisung didn’t move right away, he snapped, “Jisung, now!”

The younger boy rushed out the room, and Chenle ripped your mask off. Your hand reached out to grab it, but he stopped you. “I need to make sure there’s nothing broken in your face. He hit you pretty hard out there.”

“But Jisung—”

“Do you really think I care right now?” he hissed.

“I do!” You grabbed your mask and pulled it back on. “It’s dangerous enough that you two know. Adding Jisung will just make it worse. I can’t risk it.”

He sighed but didn’t push it. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t help but worry. Broken bones were really bad, especially when not treated properly.

“Does Renjun know you’re here?” he asked quietly as you could hear Jisung’s footsteps get closer.

You nodded and said, “He also knows to stay quiet because of Jisung.”

“You better not have told the others she’s here,” Chenle stated as Jisung entered the room again.

The other boy handed over the ice pack with a frown. “That would be stupid and dangerous for the two of you.”

“We just have to make sure,” you told him.

Chenle pulled on some gloves and looked at the burn on your side. It was blistering, and he could tell you were trying not to cry. He had you place the ice pack on your head as he dabbed at the blood that was dripping down your ribs. He then applied some burn cream and wrapped it up. When you stood up, you started to walk towards the window, but he stopped you.

“I really need to check that nothing’s broken in your face,” he said.

“I’m fine, Chenle. It was nice meeting you, Jisung.”

You could hear Jisung shout a, “You too!” before bombarding Chenle with questions. You felt bad, but you needed the help, and calling him before you arrived wasn’t the first thing on your mind when you escaped as the police were arresting Dr. Octopus.

“That was too close,” Renjun said.

“No shit.”

The rest of your weekend was, luckily, uneventful. Aunt May made you ice your face while she yelled at you for not being more careful like you’d promised. She also asked Chenle how to check for broken bones in the face before deciding that you managed to stay in one piece this time.

On Monday, you thought you covered the bruises on your face pretty well with makeup, but by the reactions of the others, you were dead wrong. Jaemin, Jeno, and Haechan crowded around you, talking over each other as they asked question after question. You looked at your other friends and froze when you saw Jisung staring at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Jesus Christ, Renjun and I went biking and I fell down a hill in Central Park,” you snapped, shoving Haechan’s hand away. “And that hurts, Haechan.”

“Sorry,” the boy mumbled.

“Man, you weren’t lying when you said you’re clumsy,” Jaemin commented.

“Never doubt me.”

During your free period, you escaped to the library. Word on the street was that there was a new villain named Siren, and you needed to research as much of them as you could so you were prepared when you would eventually face off against them. You found a table in the back corner of the library and pulled out your laptop. As you logged onto it, the chair in front of you was pulled out. Jisung sat down, throwing his bag onto the ground.

“What’s up, bud?” you asked.

“I won’t tell anyone,” was his response.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Little lost here.”

“You think I didn’t notice you grab your side earlier when Jeno bumped into you? Or that the bruises on your face are definitely worse than if you fell off a bike?” He leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, what is it you want?” you questioned.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Like I said, I won’t tell anyone. Friends don’t tell each other’s secrets.”

You were frozen in place. Did he really want nothing in return? The only reason why you’d trusted Renjun and Chenle was because they were your best friends. Was Jisung the same?

“Why?”

“Telling people puts us all in danger. I would feel horrible if something happened to you or anyone else because I decided to tell someone,” he replied.

You sighed. “Okay. Can you help me research then?”

He smiled and scrambled to take a seat next to you. You made sure no one was around before telling him about what you knew, which wasn’t a lot. He pulled out his own laptop and started looking at online chats and fan sites, hoping to find something on Siren. You looked at articles that were written about them. From what you could tell, Siren was a girl, and she could control water. She could also sing a song to lure anyone in. It would be extremely risky to fight her, knowing she could control you or anyone who could hear her voice.

During lunch, it hit you that someone else knew. Someone else knew, which meant another life was forever in danger. Your stomach twisted at the thought, and you could feel the food you just ate start to rise in your throat again. Your chair scraped against the tile as you pushed it back, ignoring the calls of your name as you ran out the cafeteria. You ran to the closest bathroom and threw the door open, falling to your knees in the nearest stall and vomiting everything that was in your stomach. The bathroom door squeaked open, and somebody was holding your hair back. You could hear Renjun’s soothing words in your ear, assuring you it was going to be okay, but it wasn’t. A poor sixteen-year-old was in danger, and it was all your fault.

You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth before turning around. Renjun and Chenle were luckily the only ones in the room with you, which made it easier for you to say, “Jisung knows.”

“How?” Renjun asked.

“The bruises on my face were a big tell, and then Jeno bumped into my side earlier. He put it together,” you explained.

“Shit. Did he threaten you at all?” Chenle questioned.

You shook your head. “He doesn’t want anything. All he said was that ‘friends don’t tell each other’s secrets.’”

“Well, at least I can check your face whenever he’s over,” the younger boy pointed out.

“God, I should’ve called that day. It would’ve been enough time for you to either get him out or distract him or something. From now on, nobody else can find out unless I say so,” you stated.

They nodded in agreement and left the bathroom to let you clean up. You rinsed your mouth out and stared in the mirror, your hands clutching the sink. The makeup was barely covering the bruising, so you took a makeup wipe from your bag and cleaned it all off. There was no point in covering it, anyway. Your hair was a frizzy mess, and there were dark circles under your eyes from being up almost all night in pain.

You exited the bathroom and almost ran into your whole friend group. Haechan handed you your backpack, which you took while thanking him. Jaemin asked if you were okay, so you nodded, but you could tell he didn’t believe you. Thankfully, he didn’t question it, so you were able to walk to your next class in peace.

///

Jaemin was in trouble again. He was hanging from the fire escape of an abandoned building, the rusted bolts having broken under his weight. The police were on the street, waiting for the fire department, but they were held up a couple streets away in traffic. He could feel his hands slipping from the sweat produced by his palms.

“I don’t wanna die,” he whispered.

The metal creaked as he held on. The whole thing shifted, causing his hand to slip. He screamed as his body cut through the air, but then someone grabbed him, and he was standing on the roof of a café. He looked over to you, and a big sigh left his body.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just needed to get away and think.”

“Don’t be. We all need those moments,” you assured him. “Pick somewhere safe next time, okay?”

He nodded. “This building has never been a problem, but I guess I can’t say that anymore.”

“You’ll find another one. Ready to head home?”

He nodded, so you told him to wrap his arms tightly around you before you launched yourself in the air. You made sure your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist so he wouldn’t slip. When you made it to his apartment building, you landed on the roof so you wouldn’t be seen. He looked at the door leading to the stairs before turning to you again.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done,” he said.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you stated.

“Stay safe, please.” And with that, he was disappearing into his building.

You woke up the next morning feeling jittery. You were going to breakfast with all the guys, and you were filled with anxiety. It was the first time you weren’t hanging out with just Renjun and Chenle, and you didn’t know how to act. Do you act yourself, or do you put on a mask? Did you even dress the same? Should you dress nicer? You looked at your phone and opened the text that was waiting in the new group chat with them.

Haechan: I don’t know about you guys, but I’m showing up in sweats

You threw on some sneakers and headed out, yelling out to Aunt May that you’d be back soon. When you exited your apartment building, Renjun and Chenle were waiting for you. They hadn’t heard you, so you sneaked up and jumped on Chenle’s back, shooting a small web at Renjun’s hood before pulling it to choke him jokingly. Chenle yelped while Renjun scrambled to get the string off his sweatshirt.

“You’re evil,” the older boy complained.

Chenle’s arms hooked under your knees as he added, “I don’t know how the city thinks you’re a hero.”

You pulled a lock of his hair. “Say it louder, why don’t you.”

“Sorry.”

You were carried the few blocks to the diner when you complained about having to hold onto Jaemin the night before. Jaemin and Haechan looked amused at the sight of you on Chenle’s back. Your trusty steed gently dropped you into the booth before sliding next to you, throwing an arm along the back of the seat. Renjun sat across and tangled his feet with you.

“What’s with the royal treatment?” Jeno asked.

“She decided she wanted to go jogging last night, and now her legs hurt,” Renjun lied.

“And I treat her like the queen she is,” Chenle joked.

You rolled your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder as the waitress approached the table. You recognized her as somebody from Chenle and Jisung’s grade. A glare was sent your way as she took in the position you two were in. Once she was gone with your drink orders on her notepad, your eyelids fell closed from the body heat that radiated from Chenle and Jaemin.

“Looks like our waitress is jealous of Y/N,” Haechan commented. “She was practically glaring daggers at Chenle’s arm around you.”

“Well, when Chenle finally gets a girlfriend she’ll have to fight me for his love,” you joked.

A silence fell over the group. You opened your eyes to see what was wrong, only to find everyone but your best friends staring at you in shock. “What?”

“You two aren’t dating?” Jeno asked.

“No. Did you all think that?” Chenle wondered.

“Have you seen how the two of you act?” Jisung gestured to you. “You’re always touching!”

“Yeah, it’s easy to mistake it,” Renjun commented. “Chenle’s just really protective of Y/N, and she enjoys the attention. But I’m still her best friend.”

You laughed at that last part. “Of course, Renjun. You’re my number one.”

You were in the middle of eating breakfast when there was an explosion outside. The seven of you ducked under the table as glass shattered and went flying. You could hear maniacal laughter ring through the streets. It sounded familiar, but you didn’t know who it was.

“Oh, Recluse! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” the female voice shouted.

“We need to get out of here,” you said as you started to move, but Jaemin grabbed your arm.

“Are you kidding me? It’s not safe out there!” he scolded.

“We can’t just stay in one spot! That’s the easiest way to be found,” you argued. “Come on, we can slip through the back and use the alleys to get away.”

You and the guys stayed low as you sneaked into the kitchen to use the back door. Once you were in the alley, you took off running, ignoring Jaemin yelling your name. You had to get home fast to change into your suit. Luckily, you lived close, so you ran up the stairs instead of using the elevator. When you threw yourself through the door of the apartment, Aunt May had your suit in hand. You changed quickly, not caring that you were standing in front of her, and then you were jumping out the window and flying through the streets. Your earpiece was nothing but static, but that was to be expected. As far as you knew, Renjun and Chenle were still with the others.

“Ah, there you are! I was wondering when you would show up.”

You looked over from your perch on a building’s ledge to face a girl in an all-white suit. A mask was covering the upper half of her head. She was standing on a wave of water that she produced from a broken fire hydrant nearby. This must be Siren, you thought to yourself.

“What do you want?” you asked.

A grin spread across her face. It sent a chill down your spine. “I just want men to listen to me for once.”

She opened her mouth and started singing. You covered your ears and looked to the street. Your friends were standing on the sidewalk, staring at the scene unfolding before them. Jisung had covered his ears, but the others were walking towards where Siren was hovering. Jisung looked at you, a look of fear on his face.

“Get them out of here!” you shouted as you commanded your suit to play the loudest music it could find.

When he didn’t do anything, you swung down and found a tech store nearby. When you ran in, nobody was around, so you used your web to grab six sets of headphones. You then ran out and plugged a set into Jisung’s phone, turning the music up loudly before placing the set over his ears. He looked around and grabbed the other pairs from you before running after your friends. You turned your attention back to Siren and swung up. You kicked her in the jaw, which stopped her singing. Her eyes landed on you as she seethed before opening her mouth and screeching. You could feel the vibrations from her scream, and you watched as the buildings around you shook. There was debris falling everywhere, and you yelled when you saw some flying towards your friends. They managed to dodge it in time, but you motioned for them to leave. Your music turned off as Siren started yelling at you.

“This isn’t over, Recluse! I will get my revenge!” She threw a large wave of water at you, and your body smacked into the wall of the diner. You fell onto the awning that hung over one of the windows, bouncing a little against the fabric.

“Recluse! Are you okay?” you heard somebody ask.

Groaning, you sat up and looked at your friends. Their heads were swiveling, as if searching for something. Renjun looked at you and mouthed, “Go,” right as Haechan asked where you’d gone.

Luckily, your suit was waterproof, so by the time you reached home, there wasn’t a single drop on it from swinging through the streets. You changed quickly and ran back downstairs to find your friends. Chenle spotted you first and threw his arms around you.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked in your ear.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you assured him.

“Y/N! Where the hell did you go?” Jeno asked.

“I just started running. I thought you guys were behind me, but when I noticed you weren’t, I tried to go back. The police had blocked the street off, so I couldn’t get through,” you lied. “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

“I’m just glad we’re all okay,” Jisung said. “That was close.”

“Jisung, how’d you know to block our ears?” Haechan questioned.

The youngest shrugged. “Recluse put a pair of headphones on my head and told me to do the same to you guys.”

After the morning’s events, you all decided to head to Chenle’s place. He lived in a penthouse, so it was easy to decide where to go with the amount of people in your friend group. You collapsed onto the couch as soon as you walked into the Zhong’s home, exhausted from your fight. Renjun lied on top of you, making you groan at the sudden weight.

“Thanks for saving us,” he said quietly.

“Dog pile!” Jaemin shouted before lying atop Renjun.

It didn’t take long for all of them to try to add to the pile. You could barely breathe, but you were surprisingly okay with that. Maybe it was because you could hear the others giggling. Maybe it was because you knew it was all fun and games. Maybe it was because of the grin on Jaemin’s face when you locked eyes.

Chenle brought you all to the theatre room. You had to go to the bathroom first, so when you arrived, you didn’t know who to sit with. Everyone was paired up, curled together with blankets. Jaemin noticed your hesitance and patted the spot that wasn’t occupied by Jeno on the couch they were sitting on. You crawled into the spot and thanked him when he covered you with the blanket.

You didn’t know what movie you were watching, but it didn’t matter. Jaemin had an arm around you, and you were so warm. It was nice compared to the quickly-chilling city as the seasons were getting ready to change. Your head fell onto his chest as your eyes closed, the sounds around you fading away.

Jaemin looked down at your sleeping form. It was the first time that day that you’d looked completely relaxed. When you two were just lab partners, he worried about the dark circles that seemed to be tattooed under your eyes and the black-and-blue clouds that seemed to constantly paint your skin. Now that you two were friends, that worry was almost tripled. He didn’t like to see any of his friends hurt, but with you it was different. There wasn’t a single day you weren’t covered in some kind of injury.

You shifted in your sleep, snuggling closer to him. He couldn’t help but smile. It was clear you had issues trusting people, so seeing you lie with him so easily made his heart swell. He silently vowed to himself that he would never break that trust.

///

You threw punch after punch, your opponent dodging every one that came his way. He sent a couple back, barely missing your face. Lunging forward, you were shocked when he grabbed you and threw your body onto the mat, pinning you. You struggled, but there was no way you could get out of it without revealing your super strength.

“That’s enough, Jeno,” Jaemin announced.

The weight on you suddenly lifted, and a hand was held out. You took it and let Jeno help you up before grabbing your water bottle that was next to the mat.

You’d had another encounter with Alli. Jeno and Jaemin broke it up before it got too bad, but you were still bleeding and bruised. Jaemin had told Jeno to call Chenle before yelling at her. The rest of your friends had shown up in the hallway, apparently together when Chenle got the call. They had all watched as he expertly patched you up before Jeno offered to teach you to defend yourself. You were hesitant to agree, but Renjun and Chenle convinced you to take him up on his offer. Jaemin came along to make sure Jeno didn’t go too far. The only problem was that he wasn’t giving you a chance to figure out how to control your strength while also getting out of whatever hold Jeno had you in.

“Wanna go again?” Jeno asked.

You nodded, so the two of you got into position, waiting for Jaemin’s call. Once he shouted out, you lunged forward and tried to knock Jeno off his feet. He easily wrapped an arm around your neck and fell backwards, your back to his chest. His legs wrapped around your hips to keep a good hold on you. Before you could even think about how to get out, Jaemin called it off again. Huffing, you stood up and faced away from the boy.

“Jaemin, give her a chance to get out,” Jeno said. “She can do it. She just needs time to think.”

There was a hesitant, “Fine,” so you faced Jeno on the mat again and waited. At the call, you circled each other for a few seconds before Jeno took a step forward. You dodged it and tried to jump on his back, but he turned around and caught you. He threw you off and got you into the same chokehold from before. You could see Jaemin wanted to stop the fight, but you needed to figure out how to get out of it. Jeno wasn’t hurting you much, making sure he kept his promise to go easy.

However, when his hold became a little tighter, something took over you. You threw your body to the side to roll the two of you over, and then you jabbed your elbow into his side. He fell off and started to praise you, but you didn’t hear it as you straddled his waist and punched him in the face a couple times. He cried out in pain, which snapped you out of it. He was cradling his face, and you could see some blood and a few tears. Your hands started to shake as you got off him. You could hear Jaemin call out your name, but it sounded distant. Panicking, you grabbed your bag and sneakers and ran out of the gym as fast as you could.

What the hell had you just done? Jeno was just trying to help you, and you hurt him. You couldn’t even remember if you’d used your full strength or held back. Either way, you were too scared to face both him and Jaemin.

Chenle opened the door not too long after you had knocked. He ushered you in when he saw the tears that stained your face. Renjun and Jisung were hanging out in the family room, but they jumped up once they saw you. He waved them off and led you to his room, pushing you towards the bathroom. He grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his closet, handing them to you before closing the bathroom door, leaving you alone. You undressed and started the shower up, letting the steam fill the room before stepping through the glass door. The hot water pelted your skin, creating a harsh flush on the sensitive surface. You quickly washed your body, trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to escape your lips.

Once you were done showering, you changed into the clothes Chenle had provided and stepped back into his room. It was empty, and his bed looked so inviting, so you crawled under the sheets and felt the exhaustion hit you like a truck. You ignored your phone that was vibrating, instead falling asleep fairly quickly.

The creak of the door woke you up. You looked over, expecting it to be Chenle or Renjun, but froze when your eyes landed on Jeno standing in the doorway. You threw the covers over your head in hopes of him leaving, but the footsteps that grew closer told you otherwise. The bed dipped under his weight as sat down, and he slowly pulled your shield down. You looked at him with tear-filled eyes, taking in the bruises that had blossomed on his face from where you’d hit him.

“I’ve been trying to call you for the last two hours,” he stated. When you didn’t say anything, he let out a sigh. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” you asked in a small voice as you sat up.

“Of course not. You proved that you can defend yourself, and that’s all I wanted,” he explained. “You scared us when you ran away, though, especially when you weren’t picking up your phone.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s okay.”

“Did I break anything?”

He chuckled. “Chenle checked me out. Everything’s still in place. Is it okay if I hug you?”

You nodded, so he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. You could feel tears prick at your eyes again, but you held them back. When he pulled away, you wiped at your face and smiled at him.

“Come on. Jaemin’s been freaking out since you ran away. I think he was more worried than me,” he said, helping you get out of bed.

You shuffled down the hallway, sticking close to Jeno’s back. When the two of you appeared in the family room, the rest of the group looked towards you. You weren’t surprised Haechan had shown up at some point. Jaemin leaped off the couch and rushed over, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he whispered in your ear. “I thought something bad had happened to you.”

You apologized and pulled away. “How’d you guys even find me?”

Renjun said, “I went to check on you and saw the notifications on your phone. Jaemin had called you, like, fifty times, so I told them you were here.”

“You messed up Jeno’s pretty face,” Haechan joked.

The others snapped his name, but you laughed at the comment. Jeno’s face was pretty swollen, and there was a cut on his lip from his teeth when you’d punched his jaw. You couldn’t help but admit that he was still pretty handsome, even with the injuries. When they laughed, you realized you’d said it out loud.

When Aunt May called you home, Jaemin accompanied you on your walk back. You moved slowly down the sidewalk, enjoying his company as he told you stories about him and Jeno when they were kids. Your heart fluttered when you saw the fond smile on his face.

You knew what was happening, and there was no way to stop it. You were developing deeper feelings for the Na boy. It was no longer just a crush. The feeling in your gut told you what you already knew; falling for him was dangerous. You wouldn’t be able to act on it. If he ever asked you out, you would have to turn him down. Being a superhero meant giving up the right to a love life.

///

It was in the middle of the night when you decided to visit Jaemin as Recluse. You could tell he still had issues with being alone at night. When he’d walked you home the other night, you changed into your suit quickly and followed him. You could hear his heart racing as he rushed to his apartment building. He’d put on a brave face to make sure you got home okay.

You hung upside down and lowered yourself enough to see through his window. It was dark in his room, but his face was lit up by his phone screen. Three taps on the glass, though. He looked over and waited for his eyes to adjust before smiling when his eyes landed on a familiar superhero mask.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I mean, I’m flattered that you’re visiting me, but it seems a little stalkerish, doesn’t it?”

“Would you rather it be someone like Green Goblin or Screwball?” you questioned.

He hummed. “Green Goblin is dead, and Screwball is in prison.”

“Guess I’ll go,” you said.

“Wait!” He grabbed your arm gently. “Why are you here?”

You hesitated. “The other night, I was in the neighborhood—”

“Fitting.”

“—shut up, I was in the neighborhood when I saw you walking a girl home. You’re quite a good actor if she thought you were okay,” you finished. “Still worried about getting jumped?”

He shrugged. “Little bit, but it’s nice to know that there’s a superhero who will be there to save me.”

“How do you know I’ll be there?” you questioned.

“I was talking about Captain America. Geez, not everything is about you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You got me there.”

He stared at you with a smile on his face before slowly reaching out. When his fingers grazed your neck, you pulled back a little. You asked softly, “What are you doing?”

“Do you trust me?”

When you didn’t answer, he tried again. He paused to see your reaction before continuing when you didn’t pull away. His fingers inched under your mask, pulling it down enough you reveal your mouth before leaning in and kissing you.

Despite the weird position, the kiss was wonderful. He was gentle, cupping your face as lips moved against yours. Your heart was soaring; Jaemin was kissing you. Jaemin was kissing you!

And then it all came crashing down. Jaemin wasn’t kissing you.

Jaemin was kissing Recluse.

You pulled away and yanked your mask back on. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I—I’m sorry,” he stuttered.

You rushed home, not hearing whatever he was yelling to you. You could feel your eyes start to water from the heartbreak that made your chest feel like it was torn open. Jaemin kissed you because of the mask you wear, not because of who was under said mask. He didn’t feel anything towards Y/N, and that was something you’d have to accept right away.

It didn’t make it hurt any less.

The next morning, you almost skipped school before remembering you had a test in biology. You got ready for school quickly and walked alone, not bothering to wait for Chenle, Renjun, and Jisung. There was a decision that had to be made, and you needed all the time to think about it that you could get.

There was luckily no one waiting for you at your locker, so you started to grab your books. Somebody leaned against the locker next to you, but you tried to ignore him. When he inched closer, you rolled your eyes and turned your attention to him.

“What?” you asked.

“You ready for the test?” Jaemin asked with a smile.

“Hope so. I studied all week,” you replied.

“I can tell. You’ve got serious bags under your eyes.”

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up. Body stiffening, you looked around to see if anything stood out, but there was nothing. Your senses were never wrong, so seeing nothing out of the ordinary had you on edge. What was nearby that was considered dangerous?

“Hey, you okay?” he questioned as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

You flinched at the touch, so he pulled away quickly, mumbling an apology. Guard up, you slammed your locker closed and stormed down the hallway, determined to find the source that was making your senses go haywire. Your head swiveled left and right as you looked at the other students and teachers. Everything seemed fine.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re—”

“God, Jaemin, will you just leave me alone?!” you shouted.

The hallway was suddenly quiet. Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes, his knuckles turning white as the grasp on his backpack strap tightened. You could see his Adam’s apple bob before he gave you a jerky nod, turned around, and walked away. You heart sank in your chest at the sight, but you ignored it. There was a threat, and some boy that didn’t even like you as much as you did him could not get in the way.

Everything seemed to calm down for a couple hours. You were able to concentrate on taking notes, and then you took your test in biology. You could feel Jaemin’s eyes on you a couple times, but you did your best to ignore it. It was only when you left that class were your senses on edge again. You looked around the hallway, but again there was nothing. Jaemin was standing behind you, shifting on his feet as if he was uncomfortable. Then again, with how you had reacted earlier, you would feel the same way.

“Y/N, Jaemin!”

Before Jaemin could say anything to Renjun and Chenle, you grabbed the two and dragged them down the hallway, ignoring their squawks of protests until you were in the classroom that Chenle had patched you up in after the fight. You made sure no one had followed and closed the door for safe measure.

“What the hell?” Renjun exclaimed. “First, you didn’t wait for us this morning to walk to school, then you ignored our texts, and now you want to talk to us?”

“Yeah, what gives? You can’t just expect us to act like it didn’t hurt us,” Chenle added.

“Something in this school is making my senses go crazy,” you stated.

The anger on their faces dropped as they processed that information. Finally, Renjun asked, “What happened?”

You explained to them what you had felt before homeroom. How the hairs stood up, and you were looking for the source when you’d yelled at Jaemin. Then it went away for a couple hours, but it came back when you’d left biology, but there was still no sign of any actual danger.

“Do you think maybe it was a mistake?” Chenle questioned as the bell rang.

“I don’t know how my senses could do that,” you replied. “It’s never been wrong.”

“But you’re not finding anything,” Renjun pointed out.

“I know, which is why I’m freaking out. What the hell could it be picking up?”

“We’ve gotta get to class, but if it happens again let us know,” Renjun said.

The three of you split up, and you headed to your next class. You kept an ear and eye out, but nothing was popping up. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going crazy; nothing was standing out, but your senses could clearly feel a threat.

When it was time for your free period, you headed to the library. You took your usual table in the back and sat facing the rest of the room, hoping you’ll see whatever the danger was if your body acted up again. What you didn’t expect was for Haechan to sit across from you.

“Why’d you yell at Jaemin this morning?” he asked.

“How’d you find out about that?”

“You did it in the middle of a high school hallway. How you do think I found out?”

You sighed. “I can’t explain it.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you said, “Can’t, but even if I just didn’t want to, it’s none of your business.”

“It is when it involves one of my best friends.”

You slammed your hands down on the table, making everyone in the library jump. You stood up to tower over Haechan. His jaw was clenched, but you could tell he was a little scared. “If you really think that’s going to change my mind, guess again. My life is absolute shit right now, and there’s not much I can do about it, so the last thing on my mind is how badly Jaemin’s feelings are hurt because I yelled at him this morning because he wouldn’t leave me alone when I clearly did not want to talk to him. If you have a problem with that, oh well. I don’t fucking care right now.”

You grabbed your backpack and stormed out, ignoring the librarian’s calls to you. Deciding quickly, you walked out a side door and started to head home. There was no way you would be able to pay attention in the rest of your classes, and you didn’t want to face your friends during lunch. Aunt May would be pissed, but like you had told Haechan, you didn’t care.

It didn’t take long for your phone to blow up with texts from the others, wondering where you were. You told them the truth, that you’d left during free period. Chenle immediately tried calling you, knowing something was up, but you declined. Texting was the only thing you were okay with at the moment, knowing you could stop yourself from saying something you’d regret.

You were putting your suit on to start your patrol when Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung showed up to the apartment. You let them in and headed back to your room to grab your mask.

“What the hell is going on?” Renjun questioned. “You yelled at both Jaemin and Haechan? I know it’s not just about what happened earlier.”

You sighed, playing with the cloth in your hand. “I think I’m gonna quit being Recluse.”

“What?” the three of them asked.

“Why would you do that?” Chenle pressed.

“I’m losing even more sleep with all these villains around, and—” You stopped yourself. Did you really want to reveal what had happened the night before?

“And what?” Jisung asked quietly.

“And Jaemin kissed Recluse last night.” There were quiet gasps as you felt the tears start to well. “I’ve been wanting him to kiss me for so long, and he kissed her. Doing what I do, I can’t date anyone. I can’t go out with my friends spontaneously, I can’t go on a vacation, I can’t do anything somebody my age should be doing.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Chenle said. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Because it feels ridiculous to complain about when I protect the city.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up again. You rushed to the window just in time to see a blur of white grab a very familiar figure from the sidewalk. Pulling your mask on, you launched yourself out the window and starting swinging, trying to keep up. Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung rushed to the window to watch, and Renjun noticed a bouquet lying on the sidewalk. He pulled his laptop from his bag and typed a few things before his scanner and the call to your earpiece popped up.

“What just happened?” he asked.

You grunted as you tried to move faster. “Jaemin was just snatched by Siren.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because I saw him on the sidewalk, and I’d recognize that horrid suit anywhere.”

“Why would she take him, though?” Chenle wondered.

Your mind tried to rack through your memories of earlier that day. The first time you felt something was wrong, you looked around the hallway, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was when you’d yelled at Jaemin. The second time he was right behind you, and the hallway seemed normal.

Wait. Who was that glaring at you?

“Oh my god. It’s Alli,” you said.

“What?”

“Alli. Alli is Siren. She was there both times earlier, glaring at Jaemin and me the whole time. I didn’t think anything of it because of how she acts,” you explained. “Renjun, have you found her on the scanner yet?”

“No, not yet. She moves faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how—oh! There she is! Alli’s located—” He stopped suddenly, and you could hear his throat click as he gulped in fear.

“What? Where is she?” you asked.

“She’s on the roof of SM’s building.”

SM Entertainment, the New York branch. Anyone who lived in Koreatown or Chinatown that wanted to get into the music industry knew of the company. It was tall, towering over the Korean neighborhood. Shiny, with all its clean windows and metal beams, it was hard to miss. You knew Renjun and Chenle had visited it a couple times before giving up once they’d realized that the work would make what they loved doing become a nightmare. Knowing how high that building was, you were afraid of fighting on the roof with Jaemin there as well. Any one of you could fall over the edge, and there was a 33% chance that it would be the only person who didn’t have any powers to save himself.

You landed on the building halfway up and crawled the rest of the way, hoping to use the time to hatch a plan. You didn’t know if he was tied up, if she would use her singing to control him to fight you, or something else. There was nothing that you could use to block his ears, either. You were going to be completely blindsided, no matter what she did.

Peeking over the ledge, you found Jaemin tied to some kind of pole. His glare was focused on Siren as she stood in front of him, a flirty smile on her face. There were a couple bruises on his face, probably from her attacking him before kidnapping him.

“Let me go,” he cried out. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“No. You men need to realize that you can’t just go around, breaking people’s hearts for no reason,” she argued. “All men do is date around, break hearts, and then act like it’s no big deal. Are you going to do that to Recluse, too?”

Shit. She must’ve seen him kiss me yesterday. “I would never do that to her.”

“And how am I supposed to believe you?” Yeah, Jaemin. How am I supposed to believe you?

“You don’t have to. I know the truth,” he stated. “Now let me go.”

You decided it was a good time to reveal yourself, so you shot a web out to grab her ankle before yanking. She dropped to the ground with a groan as you climbed over the edge. “Give it up, Siren.”

The girl stood up and turned to you, seething. “No! You two deserve whatever comes to you!”

“Why are you doing this?” Jaemin asked.

“You broke up with me for no fucking reason, and then you went and kissed her last night! What does she have that I don’t?” It was clear Alli was having a psychotic breakdown, which made the risks even higher. Whatever she decided to do she wouldn’t regret.

“Alli? What the fuck? I broke up with you because you beat Y/N up when she’d done nothing wrong!” Jaemin shouted.

“She constantly flirted with you!”

“So what if she did?! I never flirted back! All she had done was give me a fucking napkin to wipe your lipstick off my face. I don’t get how that made it okay to punch and kick her.”

“Can we not do this? I really don’t want to be in the middle of a lover’s quarrel when one of them is tied to a pole at the top of a skyscraper,” you said.

Alli turned back to you, and suddenly you were hit with a wall of water. Stumbling back, you shot a string out to stop yourself from tumbling over the edge of the roof. You then used a full web to trap Siren, but she screeched, the sound tearing it to shreds.

“Don’t think you can stop me that easily, Recluse. I’m far more powerful than you,” she hissed as she stepped forward.

Swinging a leg out, you swept her off her feet and pinned her to the ground. “I have more experience.”

You were thrown to the side before she stood up. She walked over to Jaemin, singing as she untied his restraints. You covered your ears to make sure she didn’t get control of you. She whispered something to him, and he turned to you, his face emotionless. Then, he lunged.

You squeaked and dodged him, trying to plan your next move. He suddenly tackled you to the ground, taking your hands off your ears. “Listen to her. Listen to the song.”

You struggled against his grip, despite have superhuman strength. You could hear Renjun yelling in your ear to try and block out the song, but it was no use. However, nothing felt different as the notes floated into your ear.

Of course. Even though no one could see your face, you smirked. “Neither of you know your mythology, do you?” you asked before rolling over to pin Jaemin. “You see, a siren’s song only attracts men. There’s no way to take control of me.”

You and Jaemin rolled around, trying to stop the other from winning the fight. Siren’s singing grew louder, as if it would cause Jaemin to grow stronger and faster. When he was finally on top of you, his hands encircled your neck, squeezing tight. You struggled against his grip, legs flailing as you tried to buck him off. The look in his eyes was still empty, and it scared you. You knew that once he was out of this trance, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you were dead by his own two hands. You punched him in the face and tied him up with your webbing. When you turned around, Siren was right there. She screeched and threw her fist into your cheek. You stumbled back and tried to stay on your feet, but she jumped on you and continued bashing your face in. You could feel yourself losing consciousness as Jaemin screamed your name. Not Recluse, but your name. Before you completely blacked out, you saw a red glint in the sky.

///

It was too bright and too loud when you came to. There was hushed conversation, but it might as well have been yelling with how sensitive your ears were. A machine was beeping, keeping track of your heart rate. You tried not to move or make a noise, but your whole body hurt. You couldn’t help but whimper in pain.

“Y/N!” There was some shuffling, and then you felt Aunt May’s hand on your forehead, smoothing your hair back. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

“It hurts. It hurts so bad,” you whined.

“What hurts?”

“Everything.”

It was a couple minutes before the pain slowly died down. It obviously wouldn’t go away from the medication alone, but it was enough to make it bearable. You slowly opened your eyes, it dawning on you that you couldn’t see well due to swelling. You looked around, your eyes landing on Aunt May. Her eyes were shining with tears that had yet to fall. Looking around, you noticed that you were in a room with the walls made entirely of glass. The sleek look outside your room told you one thing: you were in the Avengers tower.

“W-what happened?” you asked.

“Mr. Stark saved you. Siren’s actions were too chaotic for you to track, so he had to step in,” she explained.

“Where are the others? Where’s Jaemin?”

“Right here.”

You turned your head to find your six friends standing on the other side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of them. There was no way Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin didn’t know your secret. Your heart sank at the possibilities of them knowing.

“You asshole,” Renjun hissed. He stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. “I thought we told you to stop scaring us like that.”

“You know I can’t promise that,” you mumbled into his neck.

When he pulled away, Chenle was suddenly holding you tightly. “You’re grounded. I’m never allowing you to leave your apartment again.”

“Okay, Mom,” you joked.

The room was awkwardly silent as the others stared at you. You were uncertain as to what you should say; they were suddenly strangers, none of them knowing who you truly were until now.

“Shoot a web,” Haechan suddenly demanded.

You froze, so he repeated himself. Hesitantly, you shot one at his mouth. He jumped as it attached to his face, making the others laugh. Clawing at the web, he rolled his eyes and laughed sarcastically. “Very funny, Y/N.”

“Hey, you’re the one that asked me to shoot a web. I was just doing the rest of us a favor,” you joked.

There was a sudden pause, and then Jeno asked, “So, you’re really Recluse?”

You nodded before groaning in pain, your hand flying to your neck. You didn’t miss the look of guilt on Jaemin’s face. Even though he knew it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but feel horrible whenever his eyes landed on the dark bruises on your neck that were in the shape of his fingers.

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” you said quietly.

“Your aunt explained why you didn’t,” he assured you. “We get it.”

“I’m still pissed that Jisung knew this whole time,” Haechan mumbled.

“Hey, I only found out because she fell through Chenle’s window,” Jisung argued.

As you listened to them bicker, you couldn’t help but think about the fight. You were trying to figure out what it was that you heard before you’d blacked out. When you remembered, your eyes widened. You pushed yourself to sit up, everyone’s eyes falling to you at the sudden movement.

“I need to speak to Jaemin,” you stated.

The boys looked at each other before slowly stepping out of the room, sending curious glances your way. Jaemin stayed in his chair, leaning forward with his fingers folded together over his mouth. The two of you stared at each other for who knows how long before you said, “You knew.”

He paused before nodding, saying in a raspy voice, “I did.”

“How long?”

“Ever since the first time you saved me.”

Your jaw dropped. “When you were hanging over that bridge?”

Shaking his head, he said, “There was a time before that.”

You wracked through your memories, trying to find the first time you’d saved him. Your moments were usually one-on-one, but there was one time on the Brooklyn Bridge that would never forget.

It was before Green Goblin had died. He and Dr. Octopus had teamed up to wreak havoc on New York. They were tearing up the bridge, blowing up vehicles and hurt people left and right. A school bus had gone over the edge of the bridge with one guy inside, everyone else from the field trip running down the street. The emergency door on the back was opened, facing towards you, but he was at the other end, lying next to the steering wheel. You’d taken a big risk by letting go of both webs, one holding the bus and the other connected to the bridge, before jumping inside. You’d grabbed him and shot a string to the bridge, swinging yourselves to the edge of the river. You’d asked him if he was okay, and it was only when he nodded had you returned to the fight with the two villains.

“Your English class was on the way to a play,” you stated. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot that. How’d you know it was me, though?”

He smiled and moved his chair so it was by your bedside before gently grabbing your hand. “You sat next to me in math that year. You didn’t talk much, but I could never forget a voice like yours.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the comment. “S-so when you kissed Recluse—”

“I knew I was kissing you,” he finished. “I’d been wanting to do it for years, but I always thought you were dating Chenle.”

Your mind was reeling. He’d known this whole time? He knew it was you when he kissed you the other night? Oh my god, he knew it was you when he kissed you.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you for I don’t know how long,” you admitted quietly. “I never thought you knew I existed until this year.”

Smiling again, he leaned forward slowly. “You’re unforgettable, Y/N.”

His lips pressed gently against yours, just like it had the other night. A deep breath rushed through your nose at the contact, your hand coming up to card through his hair as he cupped your cheeks. When he finally pulled away, it was only to rest your foreheads together.

“I know what we’re doing is dangerous,” he started, “but I don’t want to give this up. I don’t want to give you up.”

You paused to think. “It’s going to be really difficult, and I’ll probably want to give up a lot, but we can work on this. I’m able to live as a superhero while also keeping my grades up. After what happened with Alli, I don’t want to miss out on anything else.”

As he leaned in for another kiss, the doors burst open with your friends cheering. You couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest in embarrassment. He laughed and rubbed your back, pressing a kiss to your hair. You couldn’t tell yourself that everything was going to be okay, but it was definitely going to be better than before.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Speak out for yourself

Jiang Cheng is two minutes away from home when his phone rings again.

“What?” he snaps out, because he can see that it is Nie Mingjue and Nie Mingjue damn well knows that Jiang Cheng is driving right now.

“Where the fuck are you?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, just as Jiang Cheng is driving into the parking garage.

“Parking the car. What the hell is wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks, because this is not the first time in the last fifteen minutes that Nie Mingjue has called him.

“Just get your ass up here,” Nie Mingjue rather rudely tells him and then hangs up on Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng curses the phone and his boyfriend while he parks the car, but he can’t deny that he’s waiting rather impatiently for the elevator, because Nie Mingjue has him worried now.

Jiang Cheng is sure it has never been this slow before.

When he finally, finally opens the door to their apartment, Nie Mingjue is pacing in the hallway.

“What the hell,” Jiang Cheng mutters, as he pushes off his shoes and drags Nie Mingjue into a kiss.

He might be agitated, but that doesn’t get him out of a welcome home kiss.

“Where’s our light?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he has seen Lan Xichen’s car in the garage, so he should be here.

And he should be plastered to Nie Mingjue’s back with how agitated he seems, so something is definitely wrong.

“In the bedroom,” Nie Mingjue seriously tells him and tugs Jiang Cheng towards it. “He came home and went straight in there, telling me to wait until you got home to follow him.”

Jiang Cheng raises a questioning eyebrow, because usually that would mean some sexy times, but Nie Mingjue seems to expect something else.

“And that’s bad because?”

“He seemed—worried is wrong, but unsettled maybe? I’m pretty sure he has been crying on his drive home.”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng says with emphasis and now it’s him who tugs Nie Mingjue towards the bedroom.

Neither of them can stand it when Lan Xichen cries. He should only ever be happy.

“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue mutters and follows Jiang Cheng hot on his heels.

When they open the bedroom door, they can only see a Lan Xichen-shaped lump in the middle of the bed, and Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue share a worried look.

“Xichen?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks as they step closer and it’s only when they round the bed that they can see that Lan Xichen is peering at them from under his blanket.

“What’s wrong, my light?” Nie Mingjue asks as he reaches out to smooth a hand over the top of Lan Xichen’s head.

“Get in here?” Lan Xichen rasps out and they can both tell that he must have been crying here as well.

He doesn’t have to ask them twice. Jiang Cheng climbs over Lan Xichen to settle at his front, while Nie Mingjue spoons up behind him, tugging him into his chest and pressing a reassuring kiss to the nape of his neck.

Jiang Cheng scoots close enough that he can rest his forehead against Lan Xichen’s, and he tangles their fingers together before he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

“I had a meeting with Lan Qiren today,” Lan Xichen tells them and he squeezes Jiang Cheng’s hand and Nie Mingjue’s arm.

“And?” Nie Mingjue carefully asks, because usually meetings with his uncle don’t leave Lan Xichen this unsettled.

There’s a pause, long enough for Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue to share a worried look, before Lan Xichen lets out a shuddering breath.

“I told him I wanted to cut down on my hours, that I didn’t want to be CEO anymore,” Lan Xichen finally says and he breaks out into tears almost immediately.

Jiang Cheng can tell that they are from relief, but it still hurts him to see Lan Xichen like that, so he cuddles closer, just like Nie Mingjue gathers him closer as well.

They share another look over Lan Xichen’s head, because they are insanely proud of Lan Xichen. He has wanted to ask that for months now but never dared to. He was too afraid of Lan Qiren’s reaction; of him forbidding Lan Xichen to do what he really loves: teaching.

“How did it go?” Nie Mingjue asks once the tears have died down a bit and Lan Xichen huffs out a small laugh.

“So well,” he says and they can both hear the relief in his voice. “He said he has been expecting this. He already had a plan ready to present to me, about the work and how he would delegate it.”

“That is amazing, my light,” Jiang Cheng sincerely tells him and Lan Xichen tilts his head up to kiss Jiang Cheng, before he turns around to demand a kiss from Nie Mingjue as well.

“I am still CEO, I still have to come in for the important meetings and I have to sign some things, but uncle promoted Luo Qingyang and Wen Qing, so they will do most of my work now. Wangji agreed to take on more work as well, it seems.”

At that, Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng share another glance over Lan Xichen’s head, and this one is a lot less charitable than the one before. Jiang Cheng can tell that Nie Mingjue itches to say something to that, because it’s not like Lan Wangji has taken on any work in the company so far, since he decided to live in newly-wed bliss with Wei Wuxian for now, but he keeps silent.

And Jiang Cheng does the same.

“I am so proud of you,” Nie Mingjue says instead and Jiang Cheng enthusiastically nods.

They have been urging Lan Xichen to talk to his uncle, because Lan Xichen has been decidedly unhappy recently, but so far Lan Xichen had refused to take that step.

“What made you change your mind?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, because they had a fight just a few days ago about this, and he just wants to understand what finally got through to Lan Xichen.

“I am tired,” Lan Xichen admits. “I am so tired. And then the school offered me more hours, and we fought about this, again, and I just—I thought something has to change. I wasn’t about to break up with you, and I am definitely not giving up teaching, so that only left the company.”

“Why didn’t you say? We would have supported you, accompanied you to the meeting,” Nie Mingjue says, but he peppers Lan Xichen’s face with kisses.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, if I couldn’t go through with it,” Lan Xichen admits. “I almost turned back seven times on the way to the meeting.”

“We could never be disappointed by anything you do,” Jiang Cheng tells him and Nie Mingjue is quick to agree. “We love you. We are always proud of you.”

“I love you, too,” Lan Xichen gives back, and he breaks out into tears again as he says it. “I love you so much.”

Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng both know that Lan Xichen has been under a lot of stress recently; they acquired a new firm a few weeks back and Lan Xichen had to split his time between the office and the school. Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng barely got to see him most days of the week, and it has been a pretty unsatisfactory situation for all of them.

So for Lan Xichen to finally take this step and say what he really wants, that’s a very big thing. And Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng couldn’t be prouder of him for finally doing it.

“Rest, my light,” Jiang Cheng softly tells Lan Xichen, brushing kiss after kiss over his cheeks, making Lan Xichen’s eyelids flutter shut and it really isn’t long before he goes pliant in their arms.

“He did so well,” Nie Mingjue mutters when they are sure that Lan Xichen has fallen into an exhausted slumber and Jiang Cheng smiles at him.

“We have the most amazing boyfriend,” he decides and carefully leans over Lan Xichen to kiss Nie Mingjue.

“I even have two,” Nie Mingjue mumbles into the kiss and Jiang Cheng flushes bright red at that.

“Same here,” he gives back and he settles back down when he sees Nie Mingjue’s eyes go all soft and sweet on him.

They cuddle Lan Xichen close and it isn’t long before they are drifting off as well, secure in the knowledge that for once no one from Lan Xichen’s company will call and demand their boyfriend comes over at that very second.

For once, they can just be lazy and fall asleep in the late afternoon, with their light between them, where it should be.

[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

[lemonerix]

Anthem of the Heart and Mind

Day 2: Crush or Pining/ Soulmate AU

Word count: 4152

[Warning: slight cursing ahead]

Soulmates aren’t unheard of in our world, but are very rare. There are many ways that two destined souls find each other, some ways are unique and strange, while others are simple. You could have a red string tied to your finger that would lead you to your soulmate. You could have the first thing they say to you written on your wrist. Some people even have watches that countdown to the moment they meet their soulmate. But having a someone meant for you makes your life a bit harder. You would have a lot on your mind, you would constantly think about them, wonder what they are like and wonder if they would like the kind of person you are. That kinda sucks, but it would be worth it when you finally meet “the one”.

Finding your soulmate also requires time and chance. There are some who find their soulmate a little bit too late and end up living the rest of their life with regret. There are some who aren’t just that lucky and miss each other before they could even have the chance to meet. That’s what scares me. I worry that I might’ve missed the chance to meet “the one” for me, or that I’m too late to find them. I overthink too much, I know. It’s one of my annoying quirks that hopefully my soulmate would tolerate.

This leads us to why I’m talking about soulmates and destiny. A month ago, I began hearing a melody. It wasn’t too loud to be distracting, but it was loud enough for me to hear it like a song being played a few rooms away. The tune was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, it was melancholic and longing, yet loving and hopeful. At first, I thought that I was going insane, but after consulting my friends and discussing about it in internet forums, I concluded that this might be how I meet my soulmate. I followed an anonymous advice on the web and wrote down the melody I heard; it was probably the best advice I got. But there was one problem, the song wasn’t complete. The melody in my head played in an endless loop and I was itching to hear the end.

.

Students were already heading to their first periods when I arrived at school. I headed to my locker to get a few things that I needed for my class. Gilbert was waiting for me by my locker, he gave me a small wave as I approached him. “Dude, don’t you have class right now?” I asked him. “We don’t have Home Economics today, after the incident with Kirkland yesterday.” He told me.

In our school, the Seniors begin their classes an hour earlier before the lower grades. Gilbert was a year older than me (I was in Junior year), he became a close friend of mine when I joined the Classical Music club in our school in my 7th year. I raised an eyebrow as I closed my locker and asked, “What happened yesterday?” Gilbert hummed before answering me, “Remember the exchange student I told you about, like a month ago?” I nodded, motioning for him to continue, “Well, that guy is definitely not gifted with culinary skill. Can’t cook for shit and can burn water for some reason. This wasn’t the first time he set something on fire, but it was the first time he blew something up. I can’t believe that he wasn’t expelled for it!” my friend laughed. “That guy must be a riot, huh?” I chuckled, seeing Gilbert’s delight as he reminisced the events of yesterday, “Heh, not really. Oh yeah, remember the text I sent ya earlier? Mr. Edelstein is going to introduce us to a new club member.” He told me.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. It’s rare for him to handpick students to join the orchestra. That guy’s standards are super high.” I remarked, Gilbert nodded in response. A smirk formed in his face, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, kid?” I blinked for a moment, trying to figure out why he asked me that question. I felt my blood run cold when I realized I was late for class, I swore and sped down the hallway.

“Language, and no running in the halls, Alfred!” Gilbert cackled behind me as I hurried to my first period.

.

The day was very exhausting, all I wanted to do was flop on my bed and play video games all weekend. Unfortunately, the Classical Music club just had to ruin my weekend plans. I entered the club room and greeted my club-mates. Gilbert waved at me and frantically pointed to the seat beside him. I only rolled my eyes as I walked towards my friend, I bumped his fist as a greeting before the two of us engaged in a conversation. “Who do you think the newbie is?” I asked him, he only shrugged. The room was noisy with the conversations of students, we talked and laughed and joked.

“I heard that the new member is a prodigy.” I overheard someone say, “It seems like Gilbert is going to have some competition.” Another giggled. If Gilbert heard this, he didn’t show it. I know how egotistical he is (very much like me) and how he is very protective of his pride. All my years in the Classical Music club, I learned that Gilbert was the only prodigy that Mr. Edelstein introduced since the formation of the club. He could play the flute like some kind of flute god. He’s so good with the instrument that sometimes I don’t even believe that he’s actually human, maybe that’s why I looked up to the guy.

The whole room hushed when Mr. Edelstein walked into the room. We all straightened in our seats and listened to what he had to say. The man cleared his throat, “I guess you all know why you are called so suddenly out of the blue. I’m here to introduce a new member of the club,” he turned and gestured at the open door, “come now, don’t be shy.” All our heads craned to the door, where a young man walked in carrying a violin case. Something inside of me shifted when I laid my eyes on him, I watched him as he walked across the room. His hair yellow like butter, his skin was pale like porcelain, and his doll-like features took me aback for some reason. But his eyes struck me the most, they were like glittering peridots as they swept through the crowd, momentarily landing on me before returning their gaze on the floor.

I looked over at Gilbert and saw that his jaw was slack, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I probably had the same expression on my face, but I was more enchanted than surprised.

“My name is Arthur Kirkland, I’m an exchange student from England. I hope we can all be friends.” He said formally. “Now that you have properly introduced yourself Arthur, why don’t you show us what you can do?” our teacher clasped his hands together and nodded at the boy. Arthur pulled out his violin, he tightened his bow and applied rosin on it before he began playing an excerpt of Vivaldi’s Winter. Everyone in the room were silenced in awe as we watched him play, his fingers moving gracefully on the instrument, hitting every note with perfection. But there was something else with him that I alone noticed. The little changes of expression on his face as he played, the way his body moved with the melody, and the way he played reminded me of something at the tip of my tongue. The song in my head gradually grew louder as I saw Arthur’s performance, but I paid no attention to it. All I saw was Arthur, and all I heard was the singing strings of his violin. I was ensnared by the music that I didn’t even notice that he was finished, no one made a sound as he bowed.

“HOLY SHIT, KIRKLAND?! YOU PLAY THE VIOLIN?!” Gilbert shot up beside me, grinning from ear to ear. Arthur’s face flushed, Mr. Edelstein glared at Gilbert and told him to sit down. Everyone in the room cheered and applauded for the new member, Mr. Edelstein roused everyone in the room and told us to sit in our respective groups. We were going to rehearse our newest piece; it was a piano concerto that Mozart composed, but I didn’t bother to remember the name of the piece. I was the only one who played the piano in the orchestra, so I had the most important role to play.

I made my way to the piano, humming a melody to myself. The room was filled with the sounds of instruments being tuned and students warming up. I cracked my knuckles and did some warm up exercises on the piano, making sure that I have my music sheet ready, and went over the measures that I needed to practice. In the middle of that cacophony of music, Mr. Edelstein hushed everyone in the room. I noticed that Arthur was standing by the chalkboard, observing the orchestra before him. Our maestro made us play the do-re-mi routine as warm up before we play the piece. He gave us the signal to stop, then he began to move his arms.

The winds and brass played the intro softly, gradually growing louder and faster. The strings followed, providing the counter melody of the winds and brass. When my part finally came up, I let the music lead me. My hands pressed the familiar keys as the tune I had practiced hundreds of times filled my ears. I couldn’t help but be seized by the music, a small grin tugged at my lips while the orchestra backed up my melody. I realized that we were almost at the end, so I had to look up at Mr. Edelstein to make sure I don’t miss the signal. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at the boy standing by the board. He regarded me with some kind of respect, before I returned my gaze at the conductor, narrowly missing the signal to stop. I accidentally hit a wrong key just as the song ended, and immediately everyone groaned at me. “Are you fucking kidding me, bro?” Gilbert raised his hands exasperatedly. “Mr. Beilschmidt! Another peep from you and I won’t hesitate to give you detention.” Mr. Edelstein warned the young man. I heard him stifle his laughter before clearing his throat and (not sincerely) apologizing to the older man. Our teacher only rolled his eyes and praised us for the job well done, and told us to practice over the weekend.

.

Mr. Edelstein made Gilbert stay behind and clean the room as punishment for his behavior earlier. I felt a little bad for him so I stayed behind and waited for him to finish cleaning.

“Sucks to be you, man.” I laughed, he glared at me and threw a broom at my general direction, making me laugh even more. “Mr. Edelstein is lucky that I like cleaning, but fuck him for ruining my plans for the weekend! Antonio and Francis probably hung out without me!” Gilbert groaned as he stacked the last of the chairs in the room and pushed them to the side. He then moved on to the music stands, folding them and placing them in their bags. “Does he even understand what we even go through? The stress we have to deal with? The deadlines we have to meet? Did he not go through high school himself?” He ranted. I was being a jerk by laughing, it wasn’t my fault that he sounds ridiculous while doing it. He glared at me and crossed his arms, “What’s so funny?” he asked irritated. I calmed myself down and told him that it was nothing. Gilbert only rolled his eyes and went back to his duty.

When he finally finished with cleaning up, I remembered something I meant to ask Gilbert earlier. “Oh yeah, I just remembered!” I rummaged through my bag and found the folder I was looking for. My friend’s eyebrow was arched as I showed him the composition I was working on, “What’s that?” he pointed at the folder. “Remember about the stuff I said about soulmates and junk last month? I decided to write it down, but I don’t know how it ends.” I showed him the contents of the folder. His ruby eyes skimmed through the pages, then he looked at me, “So you want me to finish it?”

“What? No! I just want some advice, dude. This is my soulmate we’re talking about. You can’t finish it for me.”

“Advice, huh?” Gilbert tapped his chin thoughtfully, “My advice is that you play it. Your soulmate might hear the song and the two of you could finally meet each other.”

I blinked, I never thought of actually playing it. Just more proof of how stupid I can be. “Oh my god, why haven’t I thought of that?” I grumbled to myself. Gilbert let out a boisterous laugh, “No need to thank me, Alfred, my boy. I am a genius, after all.” He ruffled my hair, making me grin. He can be an egotistical asshole sometimes, but Gilbert is like an older brother I’ve never had. Just another reason why I looked up to him.

I waved goodbye to Gilbert as we parted ways at the school gate, he waved to me before running to his two friends, planning to get into trouble once again. I headed the opposite direction, humming to myself. Dusk was near, the streetlights had already turned on and I couldn’t help but slow my pace and enjoy my walk home. The little town I was in wasn’t much, but it had so many things about it that made it charming, I realized that most of the time, I didn’t even appreciate its peaceful atmosphere.

Then something broke the quiet evening.

A singing violin echoed through the dusk, I stopped in my tracks and felt my heart leap inside my chest. I immediately whipped my head upwards as the familiar melody filled my ears. There, by a window on the third floor of the apartment, was Arthur. Playing his instrument with such grace, I felt compelled to go up the metal staircase on the side of the building to get closer to him. The music he played was almost like the melody in my head, but his song was brash and fast, it was an upbeat and wilder version of the melody I kept hearing. Then the music stopped, I saw him peering outside of the window and glance below. I panicked, if he sees me here, he’d think I’m a creep! I scrambled away from the building and down the street, hoping that he didn’t see me running away like a madman.

.

The year passed by so quickly, and before I knew it, classes were about to end. We were going to have a year-end recital, and a farewell party for our club seniors. The past several months, Arthur and I became acquaintances, then walk-home buddies, then friends (thanks to Gilbert). I also had a growing suspicion that there was a chance Arthur was my soulmate. Gilbert, my ever-loving friend, noticed that I was crushing hard on the Brit, and kept on finding ways to get me and Arthur together. At first, I tried to deny it, but in the end, I had no control over destiny. If he was meant to be with me, then he was. Not that I had any complaints. I also noticed that he had grew a liking to me, because he treated me a little bit differently than other people. In short, he’s just nicer to me. I also enjoyed the little things I noticed about him, and the small things that he would do for me. Fuck, I might be falling for him. Fuck that, I fell for him the moment he played in front of me.

“Alright! We’re going to wrap up the show with…Arthur and Alfred’s duet!” Mr. Edelstein shouted in the noisy backstage, he pointed to the two of us and gestured at us to get ready. I fixed my hair and straightened my bow tie, “Hey Artie, we’re up next!” I reminded him. “I know that, and stop calling me Artie!” he yelled at me, then he muttered something about the noisy room while he was trying to tune his violin. “Al, Arthur, side of the stage, right now!” I heard Gilbert shout over the noise. I walked towards the Brit and told him that we were up. He sighed and reluctantly followed me to the side of the stage.

We made it just in time as the school’s Glee club finished their song, the choir bowed and exited through the other side of the stage. “Hey, your bow’s a bit crooked.” Arthur said as he straightened my bow tie for me. I thanked him, he replied with a soft smile before we were pushed up the stage to perform. The audience clapped as we made our entrance and bowed. I sat by the piano, hands hovering slightly over the keys and Arthur stood beside me, already poised to play. The whole auditorium fell silent, I breathed in and out lightly, clearing my head from distractions. Then, I began to play.

Arthur soon followed, and the music from the two instruments joined to form a beautiful song that echoed throughout the building. It was perfect, it sounded like the two instruments were made for each other. The violin leads the piano’s melody, while the piano guided the violin’s rhythm and tempo. I let the music flood my senses, my hands were flying over the keys, like how Arthur’s fingers flew on the strings. We locked eyes and gave each other a knowing smile as we did the finale of the song.

The auditorium exploded with claps and cheers as we bowed once again and got off the stage. We were jumping like little kids on Halloween when we were off, “Holy shit dude, you were amazing out there!” I grinned at him. Arthur laughed, “No, the whole performance was brilliant because of you!” he and I continued to gush and praise each other for a job well done when someone interrupted us, “Alright, sorry for interrupting you two lovebirds, head over to the other side of the stage. We’re gonna do the closing remarks.” Gilbert told us nonchalantly and left without another word. I felt my ears grow warm when he called us “lovebirds”, he can be a good friend sometimes, but he’s a total jerk at the moment. Arthur cleared his throat, “We should go.” He said, I nodded in agreement and the two of us went through the backstage.  

We did the closing remarks, everyone who performed got to bow on the stage as pictures were taken and farewells were said as the night grew deeper. Mr. Edelstein told us to stay behind for a little while, because the farewell party was about to begin. Most of the younger students and a few older students left early, because they didn’t want their parents to worry or were too tired to party. I decided to stay behind, because I wanted to see Gilbert and Arthur off before they leave high school. I was gonna miss Gilbert big time, he was like some kind of parent-figure I had in school, and he taught me more than I could ever let on.

The farewell party was to be held in the auditorium, a few rows of the plastic chairs were moved to the side to make room for the dance floor and for the snack table. The seniors have already begun to make the most of the night. Several of them were dancing to the music roaring from the speakers, a few were standing on the side chatting with each other, while others were just enjoying the music, snacks and punch. I decided that I won’t dance that night, because I had one final thing to do before the seniors leave. I made my way back to the stage, where the piano was still set up. Arthur must’ve saw me walk to the stage, because when I got there, he was right behind me. “Hey, why aren’t you over there dancing on the dance floor?” He asked. “I’m a little worn out to dance tonight. Besides, I was just grabbing something from the backstage.” I told him. He asked me if he could come with and I just nodded, I wanted for him to come with me after all.

After I spotted my bag, I took out the folder containing the unfinished composition. “What’s that?” Arthur asked me, “It’s something I’ve been working on. It’s not finished yet, but I want you to listen to it and give me advice on how I should finish it.” He took the folder from my hand and studied the notes carefully. His eyes widened momentarily before he asked me to play it.

We went to the stage where the piano was at, I sat on the seat and placed the notes on the piano. Arthur watched me carefully, as if he was expecting something brilliant to happen. My heart was now racing, it was now or never. I played the first measure slowly, then gradually went faster as I progressed. The melody was no longer looping in my head, but was surrounding me. I could feel it touch my skin, I could almost taste the sweetness and bitterness the music had. It was just a sensation too ineffable to describe. Then, I stopped. That was where the song ended abruptly. I turned to Arthur to ask what he thought about the song, only to find him with tears brimming in his eyes. I opened my mouth to say something before he grabbed my arm and pulled me backstage.

He engulfed me in a hug as he sobbed into my shoulder. I was shocked and confused, I stood still as he continued to cry. “It’s you. I’ve finally found you.” He said, his voice breaking a little bit. “Arthur…what are you—?”

“You are the song in my heart. The one I’ve been looking for since I’ve learned to play music. Your song clouded my heart every single day. I’ve spent so long searching, and now I’ve finally found you.” He laughed, tears still streaming down his cheeks. I began to finally piece together the events that happened so quickly, everything finally became clear, all of my doubts and suspicions were finally silenced. Arthur is my soulmate. He is the melody in my mind. The song that kept repeating over and over, finally had an ending to complete it. I did not notice the joyful tears in my eyes as I hugged him back. We both laughed and cried like madmen as we were wrapped in each other’s arms. We finally calmed down from the joy and ecstasy we felt, he had lowered his arms to my side as I wiped away his tears with my thumb. Our foreheads rested against each other, noses almost touching and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. I wanted to make the first move and kiss him, but I guess Arthur had the same idea. His lips captured mine and pulled me towards him, I pressed him against the wall where he began to grind his hips against mine. We were so caught up in the moment that we did not notice someone enter the backstage.

“What the—? Oh, god. I’m so sorry for interrupting.” Mr. Edelstein apologized and briskly walked out of the room. Immediately, both of us flung each other away like two magnets with the same pole. I heard running footsteps and Gilbert sprinted to see what was going on, “Holy shit, what the hell were the two of you doing back here? Mr. Edelstein just walked out of the building, red as a cherry!” Gilbert, the jerk he is, wiggled his eyebrow. I groaned as other students came to see what happened. I glanced at Arthur, who I caught was staring at me. His lips were swollen, his suit disheveled and his face the color of strawberries, he looked godly. Arthur let out a small giggle, then it turned to laughter. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh with him. Gilbert and the other students stared at us in confusion, like they missed some kind of inside joke.

I didn’t care, tonight was the night that changed my life forever, and nothing’s going to ruin it for me.

***

I was inspired by some stuff that happened to me in my junior high, I’m part of a school band (it’s not really classical, we focus on traditional instruments most of the time. Our school’s marching band is something else entirely.) and it’s really something that I’ve always wanted to write about. Anyway, sorry for feeding ya’ll this useless info about me. I hope you enjoyed the story!

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔻𝕒𝕪

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Heyo this is my first time writing on the blog so be kind. I just got obsessed with the idea of Aizawa being an elementary school teacher 

>> Admin B̷r̷a̷n̷d̷o̷

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Ok, maybe this won’t be so bad? 

He put on a fake smile and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bags under his eyes were somehow more apparent then usual. His face quickly faded into his trademark apathetic scowl. 

Who am I kidding? This is the worst possible situation. 

Aizawa sneered at the thought of his current situation. Of how his pristine English classroom was being taken from him because they needed “fresh blood”. Of how he was not only being forced into a new school, but also a new grade. He sighed (heavier than usual), leaving his dim apartment early, to beat traffic and give him time to dwell further on his current situation.

As he drove, his brain on went on auto pilot and all his worries and thoughts crossed his mind once again. Aizawa had never taught anything lower than 6th grade, and he never wanted to. It’s not that he didn’t like kids, it’s that he didn’t love kids. High schoolers were almost adults, so he didn’t have to sugar coat anything. No snack time, no name calling, no bullshit. The sudden unemployment was truly a wake-up call (not just because he would fall asleep in class), telling him that he needed to get his shit together. He was thankful that his good friend Nezu happened to have a job opening, he just wished it were at any other school.

Arriving at the school made him sick. The bright colors. The intricately hand painted signs reading “Welcome To The New Year!” and “Start the school year with a smile.” The line of staff waiting outside the school to welcome him. The line of staff? Jesus.

His wish to quietly slip into his new classroom vanished before his eyes. There was no way he could avoid meeting his new colleagues now. Hopefully, he thought, I can get through this without too much headache.

“SHOUTAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

And the headache began.

“Oh my god, Shouta! It’s been so long! And you never returned my texts?? I can’t believe we’re working together again! I thought you didn’t like elementary school?? Anyway, c’mon we need to get you all settled!! I heard you got fired?? What’s up with that? Did you- “

Before he could even fully get out of his car, Hizashi was pulling him toward the crowd of faculty almost against his will. The crowd was full of smiling faces, kind waves, and judging glances.

 Ugh

“Welcome Mr. Aizawa! I am glad that Mr. Yamada was telling the truth that he was a close friend. Well I know that our little pocket of perfect isn’t quite the high school setting you’re used to but believe me that you’ll love it soon enough.” Principal Nezu smiled happily and gestured to the quaint little school.

“Starting in the middle of the school year isn’t easy, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it,” he added with a wink.

Aizawa glanced briefly at the bright marquee reading “U. A. Elementary School”, then back to the group of hopeful faces. He put on his best “I’m totally not wishing I was somewhere else right now” face, and /reluctantly/ expressed his joy to be there. 

With his seemingly pleasant response, the evaluative air cleared somewhat, and the gossipier teachers left the gathering, no longer interested.

Taking Aizawa’s arm, Nemuri pressed her chest against him, “Hate to interrupt but Shouta- Mr. Aizawa, really needs to get to his classroom.” With that, the tall woman, along with Hizashi, practically dragged the poor man away, though he was internally grateful to be away from the crowd.

They arrived at Aizawa’s new classroom, still full of the previous teachers’ belongings. He pulled himself away from the others, brushing himself off.

“Thanks Midnight.”

“Oh, stop with that,” Nemuri responded, fixing her immaculate hair in the reflection from the window, “I haven’t gone by that since college. No one here needs to know the escapades of Ms. Midnight.”

Aizawa chuckled lightly, “At least I have some familiar faces here, aside from Nezu.” He peered over to the other two, seeing their “trying to be respectful but insanely curious” faces. “Fine, I’ll address the elephant in the room. Yes, I was fired. No, it was not for selling drugs to the kids, Hizashi. I just… had trouble staying awake, apparently a few times too many.”

Hizashi sighed in defeat and pulled a twenty out of his pocket, handing it sadly to Nemuri.

“Good thing there was an opening here for you,” Hizashi replied, almost like a whine as he mourned his loss, “Too bad it came at the loss of Yagi. Poor guy having to be stuck at home after that dumb injury.”

Nemuri chuckled, “It’s his own fault for jumping out of the second story window to give one of his students the lunchbox they forgot.”

“He’ll be back next year, and I’ll be long gone. hopefully.” Aizawa interrupted, tying his long hair back. “Now can you two leave? I have kids coming in less than an hour to a teacher that could care less about them right now.”

Nemuri exhaled sharply through her nose, a smirk crossing her face, “You need a better attitude, my friend, or they will eat you alive.” She pushed herself off the desk, pulling Hizashi along.

“Good luck!” He called out, “let me know if I can help! The music room is always open for you!”

As the door slowly closed, Aizawa turned back to his new classroom. The desks were arranged in neat rows and columns, small pieces of tape on the carpeted floor to ensure that they remained in their neat arrangement. He was appalled by the disorganized mess that was Yagi’s previous desk arrangement.

Aizawa sat at his new desk, dropping his head into his hands. He had never taught 2nd grade before. Sure, he was certified to teach it, but that was more of a trophy to him than an actual career choice. Like when someone minors in art history. What made it especially difficult was that he was taking over a class run by the one and only Yagi Toshinori, legendary his teaching. He was the “symbol of peace” for teachers, doing interviews for local news stations and giving presentations for the school district.

The four of them (Yagi, Hizashi, Nemuri, and himself) had gone through college together, but lost touch as they all chose their path. Yagi with younger kids, Aizawa with teens, Hizashi with music, and Nemuri with administration. Aizawa knew that Yagi was a better teacher than him, and that he had big shoes to fill, literally.

Aizawa broke from his lamentation as the morning bell rang. He opened his door to be greeted with the cacophonous sound of 20 children itching the get into their classroom. He was nearly knocked over by the force of almost two dozen children running into inspect what the new teacher had done. Surprisingly, the new layout did not stop the wave of children, they all quickly found their name tags and sat down, most of them loudly complaining.

Aizawa moved to the front of the room and cleared his throat. Twenty small faces focused on him. “Good morning students. As you may know, Mr. Toshinori is injured and will not be able to continue teaching this year. My name is Mr. Aizawa and I’m going to be your teacher for the remainder of the school year-” A series of small hands shot up in front of him. He sighed, “Yes, you,” pointing to the small girl sitting politely in the front row.

“Excuse me, but why can’t Mr. Toshinori come back?” she asked, cocking her head.

Before he could answer, another young girl, this one with pink hair, jumped up, “Momo, he broke his butt, that’s why he can’t come back!”

“He didn’t break his butt! He broke his feet, stupid.” A blonde boy in the back stood up and pointed at her.

“Who are you calling stupid? I saw it, you buttface.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Seeing her mocking face, the boy began throwing his pencils at her, to which she started throwing her pencils. Momo began crying at the violence, while the other students began cheering for one of the other two students.

This was going to be a long day.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

As Nemuri entered the teacher’s lounge, she was greeted with the sight of Aizawa looking… well, dead. “Well, I was expecting this.” She commented, setting her stack of papers down and sitting on the table in front of him. “Rough day?” Aizawa merely groaned in response. She patted his head lightly, “You know what they say about kids, it’s like wrangling kittens.”

“I’ve never heard that.” He replied, lifting his head up to a more alive position. “I don’t know how he did it. Those kids just don’t listen.”

“How did you deal with your high schoolers?”

“None of us wanted to be there so we respected each other’s time and got shit done.”

Nemuri clicked her tongue, “It’s a wonder why you’re a teacher at all. You used to have passion for teaching, Shouta. Try to tap into some of that.” With that, Nemuri hopped off the desk, scooping up her papers, “If you need advice on how to deal with them, we’re here for you, all three of us.”

The door to the lounge closed softly behind, and he was once again alone. Aizawa hesitated at the thought of asking any of them for help. He had not spoken to any of them for years. While he enjoyed their company, Aizawa knew he did not belong. Nemuri, Hizashi, and of course Yagi, all had this passion and fire for education that Aizawa himself had lost years ago. It felt wrong to him to be there.

The soft chime of the lunch bell reminded Aizawa that he had to return to his classroom. Which he really did not want to do. The kids barely got along with each other, who they have known for months, how were they supposed to cooperate with him, a total stranger? He trudged back to his classroom, just as the students began pouring in. As they took their seats, he stood, and began writing their next lesson on the board. Once all were seated, he turned around to address them.

 “I am very disappointed with how the morning went.” At this remark, half the students rolled their eyes, while the other half looked like they were going to burst into tears. Aizawa stopped and began thinking. What would Yagi do in this situation? He would be cheery and upbeat and overly personal with the students. Well, he thought, nothing would hurt to try at this point.

He sighed, sitting down on his desk, “Listen guys, I know this is hard for you, its hard for me two. The only way we can make this work is if we give each other a chance and get to know each other. So..” he looked at the confused faces of the kids, “Let’s go outside.”

The students all filed outside behind Aizawa, confused yet intrigued. He turned to face them, “Now I have a task for you, we’re going to go on a hike around the school, and you’re going to tell me about everything interesting you see.” The students collectively gasped and nodded excitedly.

As the class walked around the school, Aizawa learned many things about the kids. Like how Tenya liked to walk this path with his brother, or how Shoto would take trips through the woods when he wanted to get away from his family, or how Yuga collect only “the prettiest and shiniest” rocks. Although this was far more effort than he usually put into teaching, Aizawa was having fun.

The week from that point on went… surprisingly well. The students slowly warmed up to Aizawa, and even began enjoying his teaching. They continued setting time aside for a class hike and decided that they would start a nature journal to write about what they saw on their hikes. Aizawa, even though he would never admit it, even started smiling more in class. Before he knew it, the end of the week had already come.

As the students filed out of the room, several waved goodbyes to Aizawa. He smiled and waved back, eyes wandering to the small boy standing shyly next to him. “Hey Midoriya, do you need something? You should be heading home.”

“I am going home! But I made you something to celebrate how much fun we are having! I still like Mr. Toshinori more, but you’re really fun!” The boy shoved a piece of paper into Aizawa’s hands. “Ok my mom is waiting, bye Mr. Aizawa! See you next week!” Before Aizawa could respond, the boy ran out of the room. He looked at the paper. On it was a crudely drawn picture of him and the class on one of their hikes. He chuckled lightly, pinning the picture to the wall. 

He was pulled away from his thoughts by the sudden vibrations of his phone. Without checking, he answered, “Aizawa speaking.”

“Um, hey! It’s been a while.”

“…Yagi?”

“Yeah! Hizashi told me you were taking over for me, and I, uh, wanted to say thanks!”

“I should be thanking you,” Aizawa commented, amusement crossing his face upon hearing the familiar voice again, “I needed a job and you had some broken bones.” They both chuckled awkwardly.

After a moment of thick silence, Aizawa sighed, “Its good time hear from you, Yagi. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Yagi chuckled, “We should catch up soon. You know, when I can walk again that is.” he paused, “So I, uh actually called to... uh, How are the kids?”

Aizawa laughed at how the blonde could barely hide his intentions. “They’re doing fine, no need to worry.”

“Are you handling them alright? I know they can be a handful.”

Aizawa looked fondly at the drawing Midoriya had handed him, “It’s an adjustment, but I think we’ll be able to get through the year.

[therainroguefanfiction]

📱 Find Me (Tooru Oikawa) #9; Deleted

📑 Table of Contents | ◂p r e v i o u s

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Upon being added to the group chat by your cousin, Kenma, you debated on whether or not you should be the first one to speak, but he made the decision for you with a simple message.

You chuckled at your cousin’s final message, plugging in your phone before rolling over onto your side. Despite the thoughts running through your mind like a stampede, you were able to get to sleep fairly easily.

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“Y/N! Wake up.” Your younger brother scowled as he stood in the doorway, getting only a groan in response. Muttering under his breath about how you were lazy, he closed the distance to the bed, pulling the comforter off and shaking your shoulder. “You’re going to be late!”

Your eyes were bleary as you looked up at him, nose stuffy and head pounding as if there were a construction crew working on your brain. You parted your lips to speak, but a sudden tingling within your nose made you stop. “A-A-ACHOO!”

He recoiled back, face twisted in disgust. “Cover your mouth!”

A groan was your only response as you fell back down, face buried in the pillow.

“Idiot! You can’t breathe like that!” He grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you over until your face was free of the fabric. “Don’t move, I’ll go call mom.”

‘I guess the reverse psychology worked…’ Your nose started to itch again and it triggered a chain of sneezes, leaving you feeling lightheaded. ‘I regret my life choices…’

A few minutes passed before your brother returned with a glass of orange juice in one hand and the phone in the other. He sat the glass onto the table beside the bed before handing you the phone. “Here, mom wants to talk to you.”

Your arm felt heavy as you lifted it up, taking the phone from his grasp. You only had enough energy to mumble, “Hello?”

“You sound terrible, Y/N.” Tutted your mother. “Stay home from school today, understand? Do you want your brother to stay with you?”

You felt relieved that she was letting you stay home, turning your eyes to your younger brother. He had been leaning closer to hear what she was saying but he leaned back when you looked at him.

With a shrug, he said, “I guess I can stay home if you need me.”

“He said he’ll stay.”

“Alright,” she sighed and you could picture her placing her hand against her face. “I’ll call both of your schools and let them know. Drink plenty of fluids and have your brother make you some soup. If you get worse, call me. I have to go!”

“Bye, mom.”

“I’ll text you later, sweety.”

The line went dead and you handed him the phone back, which he took with his hand wrapped up in his shirt so he didn’t have to touch the germy phone. You considered asking him for soup, but you honestly weren’t that hungry and you didn’t trust him in the kitchen anyway.

“Thanks for the juice,” you mumbled as your fingers wrapped around the cool glass. It felt nice against your sore throat.

“Sure.” He stared at you for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Don’t die.”

You quirked a brow as he turned on his heel and left the room. ‘Huh, so he can still be cute sometimes. Weird.’

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The next couple of days were spent staying at home, drinking orange juice and canned soup that was usually cold in the middle because you were too impatient to wait for the microwave to heat it properly. In that time, you had gotten a few messages from Oikawa.

You pulled up Oikawa’s messages, frowning as you scrolled through them.

Every single time you’d tell yourself that you wouldn’t read his messages anymore.

Every single time you’d be unable to control your curiosity and read his messages.

Every single time you’d find yourself feeling guilty, sad, and tempted to reply.

Every single time you’d tell yourself that you wouldn’t repeat the cycle.

But it always seems to repeat.

‘Didn’t someone say that the definition of insanity is doing the same shit over and over again, expecting a different result? Who the hell was that?’ Your brow furrowed and you pulled up the search engine, Poogle, typing in the quote. ‘Oh… It was Albert Einstein. I feel like I should probably know that. He also said it nicer than me but at least mine has some flair and personality.’

You clicked on the home button and, for a moment, you just looked at the app icon on your home screen, sitting alone on the page. You knew what you needed to do. If you didn’t, the cycle would just keep repeating and leaving you stressed out.

Your finger hovered over the app, watching it bounce up and down as it waited for your decision.

You hesitated. Did you really want to uninstall the app and officially cut him off? A small part of you said no, whispering in your ear about how you’d come to regret the decision. A larger part, however, was telling you that you’d regret it more if you didn’t. You just wanted to go back to your peaceful existence being unnoticed by everyone.

Your thumb clicked uninstall and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Doing so sent you into a coughing fit, which caused your brother to dart across the hall into your room, hands flapping around like a scared chicken as he panicked, ordering you not to die or ‘Mom will kill me!’

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▸n e x t

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Tag List: @the-broken-halo-writer​ @nekoma-hoe​ @iishoto-chan​

[heartsofminds]

Starry Hearts

Description: The one where Shawn’s a dad and crying at 3 AM. 

He's not sure if it's his undiagnosed insomnia that keeps him awake, or the fact that he's been a musician for far too long.

Truth is that flying from country to country where different time zones plague the area gets tiring, and hotel room are always so white.

The sun shines through the blinds and it makes everything so blinding. Most of the time, he can't seem to sleep very well because slivers of light peek their way through the closed curtains. More than often, it keeps him wide awake.

But he’s never a dick; no matter how cranky he feels and he often has to premeditate his actions and choose his words wisely.

If anyone was asked to sum up Shawn Mendes, unkind remarks and diva like actions were never brought up. Besides, he's never really liked pesky paparazzi and nosy reporters up his ass they way that they wanted to be.

But Shawn isn't in a hotel room and he isn't not tired, but he can't sleep. And he thinks maybe it's the fact he's an undiagnosed insomniac or quite possibly the idea that his little girl, his sweet little Gabriella, was down the hall.

Shawn never wants to close his eyes for too long when he’s home because he never wants to miss it. He never wants to miss his baby's first words or her first tooth or even her first little cold that he knows will be hell, but he'll never mind it.

He'll do anything for her. He’ll move heaven and hell into the same realm, run through fire, and even end his career if it meant he could spend time with her.

Although little Gabriella Elise Mendes was here for only 7 months, she had her daddy wrapped around her finger. He can't see himself not having her around and it's crazy, he thinks, how you could love someone who isn't even aware of it.

She's ruined his social life and Shawn doesn't mind in the slightest. He hasn't had more than half a beer in the seven months her eyes had been open and he never comes home later than 7:00 so he's sure he can sing her to sleep and yeah, it's boring, and yeah it's tiring, but Shawn’s never required lots of sleep or entertainment so he's satisfied.

Niall's invited him over for drinks and Brian has offered to pay for all the shots he can down, but Shawn never takes the offers. He feels guilty making his friends pay for him; especially if he knows he’ll end up going home early anyway.

Most of the time he puts on a Blues’ Clues episode (it was his favorite when he was tiny) and sits on the couch in his family room with his little girl on his knee. She often babbles away and sometimes Shawn thinks he puts on the show for himself rather than Gabriella, who can't quite comprehend what's happening yet.

A lot of the time he winds up going to bed shortly after she does, but he never sleeps. It's always been hard for him to get a good night's rest and apparently he's passed that trait of himself down to his little love.

Gabriella doesn't cry a lot and unknowingly to her father, she's awake for most of the night as well. His mother swears he and his daughter are alike in so many ways that it's scary.

She came out with starry eyes and singer's lungs as well as a knack for attention like her father. She was a spoiled princess from the minute she left the hospital, and that hasn't changed at all.

So his damn insomnia and father's intuition drives him up the wall until he gets out of bed and tries to walk as quietly as he can around his house. He swears he hates himself for getting all hardwood floors because they're insanely cold during the fall and winter months. He can’t even bother to wrap his thoughts around the fact that they’re stupidly dangerous.

Maybe he's just clumsy, but Shawn’s almost fallen down his own damn stairs and broken his neck at least ten times in the past two months, so he can only imagine the nightmare it'll be when little Gabriella starts to walk.

He finds himself on his couch with the lights off and the stiff suede that encases his body makes him itch. He wonders who the hell let him buy that uncomfortable couch, but then he realizes he used to do everything for style and now at twenty nine, he quite frankly, doesn't give a fuck anymore.

For the first time in years he went out in some sweats and Adidas and God, did he think it felt good.

Shawn hears soft babbles a short distance from where he is seated and as he gets up, he makes a mental note to put new furniture on his ever growing shopping list. His bare feet make a soft slapping noise against the hard floors and he peeks his head into his little girl's room.

The glow in the dark stars that decorate her ceiling were Teddy’s idea and the lavender walls were voted on by a three to one ratio with Shawn being the latter who wanted pink for his baby girl.

"It's my fucking house," he had said months prior to her arrival, but no one seemed to care.

"Well don't ask us to help decorate if you don't want suggestions, dumb fuck,” either Brian or Geoff had said, but he doesn't quite remember.

Everything had to be perfect for his little Gabriella or Ella, as close friends and family knew her as.

Her daddy opens the door and walks in quietly not to disturb her even though she was wide awake. She's starting to stand up by herself now, and Shawn is briefly shocked when he looks down at the white crib to see her tilting her head and looking at him with wide eyes.

He holds his arms out and she reaches up. His body is exhausted and he feels his muscles and bones aching but his mind is pacing ten thousand miles a second. He doesn't really know where to take her because he doesn't want to be too noisy in case she's grumpy and he just wants the calm of the night to wash over him.

He figures he spends a God awful amount of time in his living room because that's the only place he can think of where there would be an equal balance of quiet and awakeness. Ella sits on her daddy's lap and she coos at him as if she is talking.

Shawn just eats it up.

Sure, he's a godfather to three other children but something about his own child makes the blood in his body warm again. He's been a cold, calloused pop star for so long that he's forgotten what it's like to love someone with your whole heart.

Sure, he loves a lot of people and yeah, he loves a lot of things, but they'll never compare to his child.

He giggles as she grasps his hand and grabs at his middle finger. Her bright eyes investigate the tattoos that litter her father's hand. Shawn thinks her favorite, by far, is the thin figure eight inside his finger that he had gotten during a drunken brainstorm as a dumb nineteen year old. She loves tracing it with her little fingers and to him, it’s in a horrible spot and looks pretty stupid now, but as long as it makes Ella happy, it can stay.

She pushes up on her father’s torso and tilts her head to the side to get a better look at the defined muscle. Ella leans forward so her little eyes can see, but leans too far to where her tongue makes contact with the skin of of her dad’s abdomen.

She laughs like it was the funniest thing on Earth and she does it again and again, making Shawn laugh out loud in the process.

"You're so silly, Angel. You're my little angel baby, huh?" he asks more to himself than to her.

He enjoys these moments because she can’t talk back but looks at him with eyes that say she understands. He knows that soon she’ll be two and talking back. He’s not ready for her to turn five and question every word that leaves his mouth and he’s especially unprepared for her to turn fifteen, and think everything he says is bullshit.  

He's desperate to be a good dad, but there's something so scary about a child being your own. He's watched Zubin’s kids and Teddy’s daughter loads of times before and even stayed overnight with them for a weeks once or twice.

When his god daughter, Laïa, started having an allergic reaction to peanuts at Christmas a few years back, she was handed off to her parents who had rushed her to the hospital. When Brian brought his son over on Halloween when he was first born, Shawn held him and when the little bugger started getting fussy, he was passed back to his dad.

Shawn usually liked having no ties to anything because it was much easier that way and he doesn't know what comes over him, but he starts crying and it's almost like he's drunk.

He's been told he's quite emotional and philosophical when he's drunk, and he hasn't had a lick of alcohol in ages but he feels kinda loopy and it could be the fact that's it's 3 AM and he's running off of four hours of sleep and a cup of raspberry tea from earlier, but he's almost full on sobbing.

"Don't want you to get older. Want you to stay my baby forever, yeah? Soon you'll be off to school and dating boys. Or girls. Daddy doesn't really care, pumpkin. And, Jesus Christ. You better stay away from Emmett. He's just like your Uncle Brian and I know how he used to treat girls back in the day, but that's not the point and I'm - I'm rambling so much right now but I love you,” he wipes his eyes with his hand and adjusts the baby on his lap, “I want you to be my little Ella forever and I know that you're gonna get older and you're gonna hate it when I call you Gabby Ella in front of your friends, but I'm not gonna care. Daddy's not gonna care, angel."

Gabriella’s attention turns from her daddy's hand to his torso and the defined muscles that make ridges on his stomach.

This is her favorite place to rest, and she turns her head to the side to lay on his torso. Her breathing becomes even and she bats her big eyes to rest. So Shawn pulls the blanket over them that he keeps nearby on the couch, and decides to head to sleep too.

He doesn't care if his undiagnosed insomnia continues to keep him awake like this or if jet lag keeps him bouncing off the walls in the wee hours of the morning.

All he cares about is his little baby resting on his stomach, and really, that's all that will matter to him forever and always.

@fourtristattoos

[flydotnet]

Shuichi Saihara and the Mystery of the Neverending Melody

Summary: Ever since he was a child, Shuichi has heard the same melody, an experience he didn't share with anybody. This is the story of how and when he found out why it was. 

Fandom: Danganronpa V3 (AU) Ship: Saimatsu/Saiede/Saiaka/y’know the drill

Wordcount: 3.2K words

Notes: Once upon a time not too along ago, in a place not so far away... My giftee was (unknown to me, due to the rules of the exchange) @xoxorandomfangirl! Glad we could rejoice in some good ol’ Saimatsus. This is... a weird trip. It's a soulmate AU with a twist! God, the plot barely makes sense in this story, it's a disaster and a half haha. I hope both aren't too out of character, that'd be super embarrassing, especially with some of my ~veteran experience~. Anyway! As I expected, I had... more or less zero idea who this would be for, so I went wild and, as a result, this story is... weird and I guess kind of impersonal? I still hope you like it pal! 

Written for the @saimatsugiftexchange

AO3 version available here.

--------------------------------

It first began when he was a little boy. After his parents (or, rather, their butler or maid) would have left his room, Shuichi would hear the serene notes of a piano in his now quiet room. He used to believe it was someone playing said instrument in a nearby room: after all, his mother owned a piano, a family heritage he had been told by the family’s most loyal butler, she could have very well been playing it, or asked someone else to do so for her husband or herself. Truth be told, Shuichi didn’t know much about his own house.

He never mentioned to his parents, or anyone for that matter. He was afraid of not getting believed. He had read somewhere before that, sometimes, you were just cursed to hear the same music over and over again for the remainder of your life until you’d find the one true way to break the curse and liberate your soul from going insane from the repetitiveness of it all and the loneliness it’d bring upon you. Again, Shuichi was but a little boy, and he was afraid of the curse too, more than he had ever been about the darkness of the night. Maybe that, if he ignored the song, it’d just go away… He figured he had grown out of believing such mythos, like the existence of the tooth fairy, of the soulmates his parents claimed to be in front of the cameras, and the curse of some piano music stalking him.

 He wasn’t weirded out by the myths, despite how much he’d hear about them and the number of stories he’d end up collecting in his mind with time. When he was a child, his parents would buy him a lot of story-focused books with urban legends like these plastered all over the pages. He’d watch, like every kid his age, series and movies about sirens, fairies, werewolves, vampires, soulmates with specific birthmarks, mermaids and haunting music. They usually ended well, turning darker as he got older and got to watch more grotesque content. The happy siren marrying the sailor she had first enchanted had become a tragic, death-riddled version of itself.

Shuichi didn’t believe a lot of them, despite hearing the music. Someone at school once told him it was someone searching after him and, when they’d get close to him, he’d hear the music. While she thought it was his Princess Charming searching for her beloved, he only found it creepy to think about: it was essentially being followed around your entire life until someone, possibly with malicious intent, would find you. How was that supposed to be reassuring?

 Speaking of the never-ending song, it got eerie when he’d start hearing it again when he was a teen. He had moved places entirely: to keep up with the demand for their services, his parents were mostly overseas, or at least far from home, and he had since moved in with his uncle Shinichi and the latter’s wife. Neither of them owned a piano, there was no such instrument in their house. If he let his soul get too carried away in its first instincts, he could almost feel the crescent-shaped mark on his chest itch.

Still, there was a rational explanation to that mysterious phenomenon, as there’s always been to various other enigmatic occurrences. When he absentmindedly mentioned this fact to his uncle and aunt, Auntie Ran mentioned that their neighbours had a son around Shuichi’s age who played the piano. It may have been this guy all along, so he shook the idea of being haunted or cursed away. There was always rationality to everything in life. There wasn’t anything to worry about…

 …that was, until he’d start hearing the melody where there was no piano nor the possibility of someone playing it, and especially in times where he shouldn’t have heard it.

He figured he’d just play it in his mind to soothe his own soul when finding himself in dire situations. When he was very sick and seeing things that weren’t, when he was about to fall, only for something to retain his body before it’d break itself, when the car he was in almost got hit by another. The serene melody would always play, albeit quicker than before, and he’d feel better or get out of the situation safe and sound. It must have only been him but, deep down, a part of his sceptic mind was thankful for it…

 A part of his brain couldn’t compute anymore when, on an urbex trip with his best friend, the serene music reached his ears. Around them, nothing but the rests of life that once was: they were in the middle of an abandoned hospital, torchlights in their bags, a camera in his hands. Kaito noticed something was bothering him, so he immediately popped the question to the latter, making Shuichi feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment. With how rational Kaito was despite his silly appearance, he’d surely never believe him. Still, he owed his friend the truth, so he went for it anyway. While Kaito didn’t outright laugh at his face, his eyebrows still twitched in disbelief. He then proposed the idea that there could have been a piano in the premise, just well hidden and, while that wouldn’t make too much sense, nothing was impossible in urbex. Someone could have brought their instrument with them, or put in a wireless speaker to play with the visitors. It wouldn’t have been his first time seeing that happen, at least.

In the end, there was no piano in the old hospital, nobody else but them, and they found no speaker, even with Kaito’s best efforts. They both decided to believe they just hadn’t seen it. It could have been hidden in some rubble, after all, leaving shortly thereafter.

Little did they know that, by trying to follow the music, they had avoided an unfortunate encounter with a murderer hiding behind the rubble of what had once been.

 Still, the phenomenon kept on. It didn’t scare him in the slightest when he was staying over at his uncle’s, finding himself get soothed by the serene notes played by his neighbour. It didn’t scare him when he was sleeping over at Kaito’s grandparents’ place. In fact, he wasn’t scared of it whenever he was with someone else, because, even if they didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t hear the music, they helped him rationalize it. He must have had a sensible hearing, like his mother apparently was. She’d sing for her own scenes; he must have inherited something from her except for his long eyelashes and slender figure.

The melody would actually change every time he heard it. It’d be subtle differences he’d notice more and more: an octave higher, an octave lower. It must have been him, but it’d differ depending on his mood. If he was sad, he’d hear solemn, yet optimistic notes. If he was trying to focus, it’d subdue and become background noise. If he was happy, it’d hear triumphant sounds. If he was embarrassed, the air would be comical and he’d feel easier, encouraged to take it easy. Hiding in some bathroom stall had never felt this comfortable.

 Now, the issue rose its head when he also realized he was always the only one to hear it in the unlikeliest place. The moment he realized that fact turned his entire life upside down: he was all alone in one of his family’s secondary residences, enjoying some time separated from the rest of the world during the holidays, without a butler nor a maid. Just him, all on his own, with the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. For how weird it seemed to literally anyone around him, Shuichi took great pleasure in some voluntary solitude. Someone like him just needed moments where he could cool down from how heavy socialization could get.

Alas, he wasn’t all alone in this villa: the piano was playing. Haunted and anxious at the idea that a burglar could have step foot there, Shuichi braced himself and started making his way to the music room of the house, just to make sure it was just all in his mind again. He let himself get guided by the notes: the louder the calm symphony was, the closer he felt to the source. For a burglar, they sure were a gentleman to only play the piano instead of robbing the place out of its fairly pricey electronics and other luxurious expenses. His parents weren’t materialistic people to begin with anyway.

 Bracing himself one last time, he breathed in and out, and proceeded to open the door to the music room. The notes were at their loudest yet remained eerily peaceful, undisturbed. Time to see what the face of his musician, impromptu visitor was…

Shuichi’s jaw almost dropped to the floor when his eyes laid upon the piano. It suddenly felt like a fever dream.

 On the bench in front of the keyboard sat a blonde girl around his age, fingers moving almost on their own as she closed her eyes, too much into her music piece to notice someone entering the room, he quickly guessed. She wasn’t dressed any oddly by any normal means, albeit very formally for a robber: a mauve dress reaching to her ankles, only leaving her ankles bare, with a trail sitting diligently at her feet, with matching gloves covering most of her arms. Even her hair seemed nowhere near ready for quick action and housebreak: it was a fancy hairdo, with strands all over her back and shoulders. Her profile was, you could say, divine.

Now, how she had gotten herself there was a complete enigma to Shuichi. Even his uncle would have a ton of troubles trying to decipher what in the flying disorder was happening before his eyes. A girl his age had somehow broken into a high-security house dressed for a ball… only to play the piano and leave everything else intact in her stead. Surely he had to be hallucinating it all, stuck in a fever dream and barely realizing it. It was unreal to say the least.

 Eventually, the piece ended, and the girl opened her eyes, revealing pink irises glancing right into his. God, she was beautiful in all the meanings of the physical team, but seriously, what the hell? Who was this woman, what was she doing there, playing the piano? How and why? She couldn’t have possibly been the cause of all the music he had lonelily heard all of his life, could she?

“Ah,” she spoke up before he could even phrase a single thing in a coherent sentence, “I see that you have found me at last. I’ve lost our little game of hide-and-seek!”

Okay, now that was getting a tad creepy and way too cryptic for his liking.

“Who… Who are you?!”

 Shuichi didn’t want to scream that like some angry drunk guy stumbling upon his own imagination, especially when the empty halls and rooms resonated this badly; yet his voice decided to do so anyway. Sometimes, his body could ask for his consent, but apparently it didn’t want to know anything about his desires. He’d have dwelled more on it if he wasn’t staring right at a girl playing on his mother’s piano with a slight smile and shimmering eyes.

“Well, I kind of expected you to ask me that first-hand. My name is Kaede. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Shuichi!”

Okay, what the fuck. How did she know his given name? What in the hell was that evasive response? And she still hadn’t only replied to most of his interrogations! Was she making fun of him, on top of stalking him with piano music of all things? He didn’t know how to phrase anything without sounding like a future murderer or a maniac.

 Still, “Kaede” quickly noticed he wasn’t convinced by just having her name. She simply hummed and resumed the conversation (if conversation this weird situation even was).

“I’m certain you won’t believe me, but we’re soulmates! Have you never heard the myth of hearing music everywhere you went until you’d meet your one true person? It doesn’t even have to be about love!”

“…you’re kidding me, right?”

She didn’t seem quite that happy with being questioned, instead shrugging with a slightly displeased expression. She ought to have had a knife hidden under her dress.

“Why would I joke about that? I’ve waited seventeen years to meet you!”

 She rose from the bench, hair and trail flowing behind her, floating in the air like wind blew in the room. He had to admit it: she was absolutely stunning and, frankly, didn’t seem too mean aside from being… weirdly playing the piano in an empty house.

“Hold up”, he still said, rising a hand. “How did you break in? Why aren’t you, I don’t know, stealing anything?”

“Why would I steal anything? I’m not here for items, I’m here for you!”

“Still, how did you make your way here?”

Kaede seemed bothered by his question, looking aside with an awkward smile.

“Weeeeell… It’ll sound unbelievable, but I can go through walls when I want!”

“…you really got to be kidding me.”

 As if to prove her point, she walked past him and, indeed, made her arm go through the wall behind his back. He felt a shiver go down his spine with a cold sweat.

“O-okay… And how do you do that…?”

He may have been terrified to see such a display without a proper forewarning.

“I’m a goddess!”

How far could this girl push his willing suspension of disbelief?

“Gods aren’t real, no? That’s old mythological stuff.”

“Yet you have one right in front of you!”

He supposed she could go through the walls and play the piano wherever he went…

“Wait, that means you’ve known me since I was a little boy, right?”

That had the most unfortunate implications ever.

“I… actually never saw you until now.”

 The situation kept growing weirder and weirder.

“Wait, what?! How do you know I’m “the one”, then?!”

She pulled down the right side of her dress, revealing a part of her breast and, most importantly, a crescent-shaped birthmark. With her other hand, she pointed exactly where his was, on his right.

“…so, all along, all those legends were true? God, I must be dreaming all this.”

Kaede looked annoyed.

“I thought you’d be happier than that to know you’re linked to a goddess in such a way!”

 Only then did it hit him.

“Wait. You’re the one who was playing this song I’d always hear, right?”

“Yeah. That was me trying to locate you, but most of the time, you’d be in trouble…”

“So, in short, you’re also the one who saved me when I was in harm’s way.”

“I tried my best back there! I couldn’t lose you before we’d meet, right? That’d have been anticlimactic!”

 It felt like being revealed the truth after a lifetime of lies and he, honestly, didn’t know how to handle it, or even if he could. That must have been when he felt her soft, warm touch around his body.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She asked, frantic, as she carried him like a firefighter around, until she found the nearest bedroom to put him on the bed.

Words had escaped his mouth, head spinning in dizziness.

“I suppose that’s a lot to take in…”

She picked a chair and sat on it, right next to it, her fingers hovering over one of his hands.

“I… I don’t know what to say…!” Shuichi laughed, still half in disbelief. “That stuff’s just insane!”

“I can only imagine so.”

 He took a deep breath and tried calming himself, if not just to stabilize his swimming field of vision for a moment.

“So… You’re some kind of goddess, right?”

“Yeah! I’m a deity of music! My father is the god of harmony and my mother is the goddess of technique and precision. My twin sister is the goddess of the harp!”

Okay. That made… some coherence, at least. It wasn’t entirely hazardous pull after hazardous pull.

“But, like, does that mean you were in love with me since I was born?”

“I didn’t know who you were for real until today! I just knew your name, where you were and things like that, but I couldn’t see your face until you’d see mine first. It’s the thing with being a goddess with a mortal soulmate…”

She seemed saddened by that fact.

“That’s a thing that happens, sometimes?”

“We deities have a few different soulmates in our lifetime. Sometimes, our bond to them is so strong the mortal get to ascend, but it happens very rarely. You’re my first soulmate, though! I’m a very young goddess by our standards!”

“You’ve waited for me for seventeen years, right?”

“Yeah! I hoped you were a good guy, and I’m not disappointed. I’m sorry if I’ve scared you with my attempts at finding you.”

“It’s… it’s fine. Now I know it’s not a stalker with malicious intentions, at least…”

 Kaede put one of her hand on his. It was only now that he was noticing she had somehow changed into something much more comfortable-looking: a pink toga-like dress with an untied hairdo. He supposed that was part of her powers…

“If you don’t want me around, I can always go back to where I come from. But, if I’m to be honest, I’d rather discover the mortal world with you.”

“N-no, not at all, you don’t bother me!” (Now that he was getting over his emotions, he realized she seemed like a nice sport all around. He could get used to her magical shenanigans later down the line). “I just have a question to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take a human form? I don’t want to introduce you to Kaito as my invisible friend who can go through walls…”

Her expression, which had been serious and determined until that point, broke into a laugh.

“I like that title, though! Anyway, yeah, I can take human shape and pretend to be a mortal. I’ll just have to use a bit of my goddess magic to give me some officialness.”

“And you don’t mind that?”

She shook her head. “Nuh-huh!”

“That’s good…”

 Shuichi felt a wave of fatigue suddenly washing over him before yawning. That was a lot of emotions…

“It’s getting late,” Kaede noted as she looked outside, the pale moon lighting the otherwise pitch-black bedroom. “I guess you want to sleep.”

“Wouldn’t be against it for sure… But I think you have a lot to tell me.”

“Oh, it’s no problem! I’ll be back in the morning then, when you’ll be all rested up! Goodnight, Shuichi.”

“Goodnight…”

He fell asleep before her fingers had even left his, still dressed for the day. Maybe that it was all just a dream, an absurd dream of absurd proportions. For now, it was a soothing experience, so he figured he may as well enjoy what was left of it until he’d wake up…

 When he woke up, it was to the smell of breakfast and the sight of a now-familiar smiling face with blond strands of hair cupping her cheeks.

[seven-sirens-of-the-sea]

DRABBLE :: Beginning Everything with an End

Rating: SFW || Diavolo’s Warning: Mentions of suicide, implied suicide attempt

Words: 1,308

Characters: OC / Tsunayoshi Minamoto [ft. Diavolo]

Notes: Feb. 29 is Tsuna’s birthday! So to celebrate, we share the prologue to his story, the events prior to his arrival in the Devildom~ It’s quite heavy so if you get triggered easily, please turn away now. Aside from that, enjoy!

The first time Tsuna saw a view so wide and attractive was in third-year middle school. He had taken off his shoes, silently trying not to alert anyone in the third floor that he had sneaked on the rooftop.

To his surprise, there was a girl around his age, her hair done in a delicately beautiful braid. She was sat on the thin railing, shoes lay forgotten on the floor.

Suicide.

“Hey, don’t do it!” He screamed in horror at the sight. “Please!”

Tsuna blinked at what he said, suddenly realizing that he doesn’t really care. He doesn’t know this person.  He forced himself to not look irritated at the missed opportunity; trying to walk slowly towards the girl in an attempt to... rescue her.

The girl looked at him with a shocked expression at his presence.

Don’t jump. Tsuna thought to himself. If you do, I’ll be fucked.

She stayed still for a moment then turned towards the brunet. With a sad smile, she started, “You’ve probably heard it all before... I really thought he was the one.”

A messy break up?

“But he told me he’s done with me.” The girl with the braided hair sobbed, hands now attempting to wipe off all the tears that streamed down her cheeks.  “I must be such an ugly person for him to just dump like that...”

“Are you serious? I can’t believe this!” Tsuna blurted out in revulsion.

She’s committing suicide over a stupid break up?

“You’re a disgusting cut-sleeve! Who would want to date you?”

What an idiotic reason to come here before me.

“Are you upset because you can’t have what you want?” He said to her in a reprimanding tone. Tsuna held out his hand, “At least you haven’t been robbed of anything.”

The girl stared at him for his words, slowly calming down seeing that at least someone tried to stop her.

He’s right - taking her life over a break up is stupid.

She took his hand, “I’m feeling a bit better. Thank you for listening.”

After she left, Tsuna sighed to himself. The young priestess-in-training slipped back his shoes, taking the stairs down and making sure he left no trace of ever being there.

---

The second time he came back to a rooftop, he was in second-year high school. With cold icy hands, he took both of his shoes before proceeding to enter the deck.

Today’s the day, Tsuna. No turning back.

To his surprise, there was a small girl who is sitting by the railing. She seemed lost in thought, arms hugging her legs as the wind blew on her hair.

Not again.

“Don’t do it!” He exclaimed without second thought, “Please!”

Wait, no. Tsuna back-tracked his thoughts, scolding himself for being so nosy once again. Another opportunity missed, damn it.

She looked up at him, eyes wide at the sight of another person. The girl sighed yet remained seated by the edge, patting the place beside her as an invitation to him.

Tsuna followed in order to appease her, should she try to jump without any prior notice.

“Everyone ignores me in my class... They steal from me and push me around every day.” The girl stared longingly at the warm glow of the sunset, “I don’t fit in here.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Tsuna turned to her with an exasperated expression.

It’s just bullying. Even if it’s terrifying, even if it’s not justified, forgive it.

“From now on, your sister will take over all of your duties as a priestess. Dismissed.”

Another stupid reason to come here before me.

“Are you serious with that?” He asked the girl, then proceeded to make dark contrasts to show her some sort of light, “Even if people here at school hate you, at least you’re loved by everyone at home! There’s always dinner waiting at the table, you know?”

The girl looked down on her hands, shedding a tear before standing up. “I’m hungry. Thank you for listening.”

----

From years, to months, to weeks, to days... Tsuna started to come back to the rooftop almost every day.

And each time, he finds someone else - someone who is there before him. But today was different, much different from the other days of visiting his usual spot.

He felt suffocated.

He felt helpless.

He felt tired.

His wrists itch from the bandage that covered the length of his forearm. The bruises left on his body looked absolutely disgusting from when he saw his reflection on the bathroom mirror. Everywhere he went, the hairs at the back of his neck stood up to its tips at the feeling of a thousand pairs of eyes watching him, judging his every move.

Tsuna pushed the rooftop door open with much desperation, his eyes bleeding tears and breath bated at the idea of someone being there before him.

With a cardigan as bright as the sun, a girl watched him as if she expected him to be there. She asked him with a deadpan expression, “Are you here for the same thing?”

The same thing? He tried to catch his breath, hand held over his chest to calm his pounding heart.

“I just want to stop the scars.” She told him as a matter-of-factly. Tsuna looked down at her wrists; her bandages were undone and showed several lacerations that he recognizes so well. “That’s why I came up here.”

He was stunned at the girl’s statement, gulping at the gravity of her words.

She’s not like the others.

He doesn’t have the right to stop her.

“Hey...” Tsuna softly mumbled, his body shaking at her pitiful gaze, “Don’t do it... please.”

Her stare alone had sent off a wave of memories that he thought he had repressed in the deepest part of his unconscious.

He had bitten off more than he can chew.

This wasn’t just a simple problem that he can solve with a few words of hard enlightenment. This was years of unkempt emotions and everything else that had driven him mad until this point.

“Please, go away.” The brunet’s legs gave up on him, crumpling into a squat position to hide his face from the girl’s intimidating glower. “I don’t deserve your pity!”

Tsuna heard footsteps walking away from him, the girl telling him that ‘it’s not her day’.

..

...

....

The silence of loneliness rang loudly in his ears.

He’s finally alone.

No one can interfere with him anymore.

He can do it now.

Weakly standing up from his position, Tsuna pulled on the braids of his tail. His heartbeat has calmed as he removed his shoes. Feeling the chill of the February winter breeze, he pulled on his yellow jacket for one last warmth.

Standing at the edge of the rooftop, he smiled at himself. “Happy fourth and three-fourths birthday... I’ll give you a gift of freedom this year, Tsuna.”

He jumped.

---

For a moment, everything was dark.

Tsuna didn’t mind.

If he’s going to be punished by the gods, eternal silence would drive him absolutely insane... but that’s okay.

There’s no more pain in the afterlife.

He can--

His vision cleared within a moment’s notice, Tsuna is in the middle of what looks like a courtroom. Unnervingly, several men are looking his way.

Before the brunet can ask, the man in the seat of the chief judge starts speaking, “Welcome to the Devildom, Tsuna.”

The Devildom? Is this some kind of borderline to his last life to the next?

“Oh, pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we?” The man looked at him with a worried expression, “Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived, after all.”

Little did Tsuna know, the hell he was expecting wasn’t quite a punishment that he anticipated. More so did he truly realize that he’s living, breathing and existing among these people...