#i might settle for that since type 1 arms are so floppy

[lunaraindrop]

True Love’s Kiss and No More Roses Ever

Prompt from @justlikeregularchickens: 

I don't think we have nearly enough whump in this fandom, so I'd like to propose a "hella sick Q and a worried Eliot" if you're down for it!

I was inspired, so this is one of two answer fics!

This is the angstier of the two. I promise all will turn out well and lovely for our boys. 

Trigger Warning! There are mentions of blood and injury, but nothing worse than what we see on the show.

Season 1-2 AU Where Eliot doesn’t have to marry Fen but has to use a loophole to make her a queen to put a Fillorian on the throne instead of Alice.

Quentin stared at his bloodstained hand in shock. Blood dripped off his fingers at his brain tried to comprehend what he was looking at. He looked down at the wound on his abdomen where the thorn from the gigantic rose was still embedded. His bow furrowed even as he saw the crimson stain bloom and grow across his gray long-sleeved t-shirt. He wasn’t comprehending what he was seeing. It just, uhh, didn’t make sense? One minute he was excitedly tagging along with Benedict to see the famous Fillorian Flower Forest that had not been mapped since the reign of King Rupert…and the next? Stabbed by flora. Of course. Why not? Welcome to the shit show that is his life.

Right before it happened, Benedict stared up at the red rose in horror. “Oh no. These were supposed to have been eradicated years ago! Your majesty, we must return at once! King Eliot must know of the danger!”

Quentin had thought he had been minorly scraped by a passing branch. A nuisance, really instead of actual pain. He did not expect something that looked like the Basilisk fang in Harry Potter to be sticking out of his body. It didn’t even really hurt…

“Uh, ow?”

It appeared that the rose shot a thorn at him like some nature ninja.

He felt dizzy all of a sudden, even as he heard Benedict’s scared voice from miles away. Why was Benedict miles away? Wasn’t he just there telling them they had to go warn people?

“Your majesty?! King Quentin!  You’re bleeding!”

Quentin stumbled and landed on a large mushroom.

“Yeah, no shnit Sh’lock. Ha, Ben-dict, Sh’lock? Ha. That’d f’nny…”

Even as things became dimmer and more disconnected, he realized his speech was slurring. Slurring was not a good sign.

“Ben-dic…am I hav-ning a str-ah, you know, stroke? Am I hava-ing one?”

Benedict was back and so much closer than he expected him to be. His hands flew like panicked butterflies near the thorn.

“Do I leave it in?! Do I take it out?! I-I don’t know what to do, Your Majesty!”

Quentin knew from hours of Grey’s Anatomy his mom used to watch while during his visits with her that leaving the object in was the way to go.

He couldn’t tell that to Benedict, though. His mouth felt too soft to move. He had to watch helplessly as Benedict decisively nodded to himself and yanked the torn out of his side.

In an instant pain became his reality.

---

 Before that day, if some random had asked Eliot Waugh, High King of Fillory and the Physical Kids when he was the most afraid, he would make up some lie about a Manhattan bar being out of top-shelf vodka or something like that.

Before that day, if Margo was the one asking, he would tell her in stilted, hushed tones that he couldn’t choose. Every day living with his father in his teenage years was a nightmare. (But he would only disclose that bit of tragic backstory if he was shitfaced and partook of at least two illicit drugs.)

But nothing, nothing could compare to the heart-rendering terror he felt hearing a bloody Quentin’s painful whimpers and Benedict dragged his ragdoll body into the castle.

Eliot didn’t feel himself move. He didn’t make a conscious effort to do anything. He completely blanked on anything that wasn’t Quentin’s upturned face and the blood that should be in his body. Yet he found himself on the floor cradling the man in one of his arms as he pressed his very expensive embroidered shirt into the wound.

When Q’s beautiful tear-stained brown eyes finally caught his, his weak hand pressed into Eliot’s naked belly.

“El…help…Idunno…”

Something broke inside Eliot’s chest. Something fundamental that he never dared name when it came to Quentin Coldwater. Somewhere between rising panic and despair, a seething anger rose from the depths of his soul.

This is what turned Harvey Dent into Two Face. From good guy to scary fucking supervillain. You don’t mess with the people they love.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIM?!”

A hush settled over the occupants of the room.

Apparently, Margo was the only one with the ovaries to talk. And send Tick to get the Centaurs. And actually, keep a level head. He really needed to than her.

“Yeah, what he said! Are we under attack?! Was it assassins?!”

Benedict finally spoke.

“It was the Cupid’s Bow Roses, Your Majesty! They’re back!”

Fen and some servants gasped in horror.

Margo put her hand on her hip.

“A rose tried to shish kebab Quentin?!”

Fen was filling her in on whatever the fuck it was that did this to Q. He didn’t pay attention. While everyone else was talking, Q would mumble some words in between weakly crying out in pain.

“A-a-ah, uh, a th-thorn, El. Ro-ses a-are, hah, danger…ous. Fuc-k roses! Soooo not romantic…”

Eliot, feeling tears slip down his cheeks, tried to give Quentin some type of comfort.

“Yes, fuck roses. I’ll have every rose burned in the kingdom so you won’t have to look at them again. Would you like that, Q?”

Quentin didn’t answer. He passed out.

“No. No no no no no, you can’t do this to me Q. You can’t. Please. Wake up. WAKE UP!”

At that moment two centaurs showed up and whisked him away.

Sitting bereft on the floor, hands covered in Quentin’s blood, he didn’t move until Margo and Fen pulled him into his rooms for a bath.

---

Clean and newly dressed, he met with his queens and the healers to talk about the health of his king.

“Well, Your Majesty, we do have some good news. The stopped the bleeding and healed the wound.”

Eliot sighed with relief…only to feel dread at the panicked faces of both Margo and Fen.

“Okay, so, what now? Isn’t he better?”

Margo grasped at Eliot’s elbow.

“Here’s the gist. The roses? They’re cursed. They were outlawed a long time ago, and everyone thought they were gone, but like herpes, they came back with a vengeance. So while Quentin’s healed…he’s not gonna wake up until we find his one true love to kiss him…”

Eliot blinked, then rubbed at his aching temples.

“True Love’s kiss? Are you fucking kidding me, Bambi?”

“Yeah, no. This straight out of some Disney shit.”

An idea struck.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be romantic love? We can get his father…or or Julia to-“

Margo just sadly shook her head. Fen was the one who answered though.

“I’m sorry, Eliot. They’re called Cupid’s Bow Roses for a reason. They’re for bringing soul mates together.”

“But that could take years of scouring multiple plains and worlds! What if we never find her?!”

Tick humbly cleared his throat and stepped up.

“If I may, Your Majesty. It is in the nature of the flower to bring true lovers together. That means that he attracted the rose’s thorn because he was already in love with his soul mate, but probably not acting on it.”

Eliot nodded. “Right. We need to find Alice, then.”

Think had been strained between everyone since the threesome. Sure, tension and anger lessened with taking down The Beast and the three offenders becoming kings and queen of Fillory.  Alice might have gone back to Brakebills saying she forgave Quentin…but that had been months ago. They had not talked since. Who knew if Alice Quinn could be brought back to wake Q. Eliot needed to know what kind of timeline they had.

“Will he be okay like this until we find his true love?”

Again, things did not bode well.

“I’m sorry, but King Quentin has until the stroke of midnight. If he isn’t kissed by his soul mate, he will die.”

It had been a long time since he accidentally used his magic, so when the pitcher and all of the water goblets broke simultaneously, everyone’s loud exclamations were understandable.

Everyone left the room. Margo promised to go off-world to find Alice, while Fen said she would get Quentin a change of clothes.

Right. His clothes were ruined.

Here Eliot was clean and dressed, while Q…

If it wasn’t for the smears of blood and torn cloth, Quentin could be sleeping normally.

The centaurs had done nothing to make him look a little more presentable, and Eliot just fucking wouldn’t have it.

Taking the water from the broken pitcher and a soft cloth, Eliot gently sponge bathed him. He paid attention to wipe every trace of dried blood from his skin and made sure to gently clean under his fingernails.

Fen came in the middle of his task, laying what he assumed to be Quentin’s clothes at the foot of the bed (he didn’t even look). She watched him as he combed his fingers through his adorable floppy hair, willing himself not to cry.

“Eliot…kiss him.”

That certainly stopped any tears from falling.

“What?”

Fen said it again.

“Eliot, I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other. Many have whispered rumors of the two of you being lovers.”

“That’s preposterous. We’re best friends. Men can be close.”

“Yes, men certainly can. But…friends don’t look longingly after the other when they go to separate bedrooms at night.”

Damnit. Fen had caught him.

“I do not look longingly at him when he goes to bed.”

Fen leveled him a look.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” She said as she flipped her hand towards Quentin’s prone form.

“It’s just me here. What harm could it do to try?”

But that was the harm, wasn’t it? Having full proof that Quentin could never love Eliot like he…felt…for him. If he tried…if he kissed him…and it didn’t work?

It would break him.

He would try to act cool and never speak of it again, but he would live in constant heartache. Sure, lots of sex and booze might dull the pain, but watching Quentin love somebody else after he tried and was proven to not be the one? Yeah…not good.

Fen seemed to actually read his thoughts. (Not literally, of course. They don’t need more than one psychic in their friend group.)

“Don’t you want to do everything to save him?”

How dare she!

He felt himself tremble as he ran one lone fingertip down his sweet nose.

“Of course. I will burn this world to the ground if I have to.”

Shaking just a little more, his thumb smooth over Quentin’s slightly chapped lips. (When, not if, when he woke up, he was going to hound him with cups of water and fruit juice to make sure he stayed hydrated.)

“Then kiss him. Rule yourself out. I’ll even step outside and not peek. Promise!” She didn’t even wait for him to say anything. She just left the room with a quiet click of the door.

Now it was just the two of them.

Feeling awkward and really needing some cuddle comfort, Eliot slid under the covers and held Quentin close. He pet his arm in slow swoops and breathed in the scent of his hair. Like many times before, he hugged the smaller man close, enveloping him in his arms like he belonged there. Unlike most times, though, Q wasn’t burying his nose into his neck squeezing back hard enough to pop Eliot’s back. It was just…perfect. Quentin just knew how to hug him to make him feel safe and wanted.

What would he do if his favorite nerd didn’t wake up? How could he live in a world that didn’t have his favorite fanboy babbling in his ear?

“Come back to me, sweetheart. Just…let it be me, and I’ll try so hard to make you happy. I promise. I’ll give you soo many orgasms. So, so many. It will be obscene. We’ll be obscene if you just let me wake you up. Okay?”

Eliot steeled himself. Cupping the back of his neck, he placed an achingly tender kiss on his lips.

In stories, it always took a moment of bated breath to see if True Love’s Kiss worked. Often times in movies there was a dramatic moment of dread like it didn’t work before the music picked up and the princess slowly woke

Yeah…Disney did not prepare him for being pushed immediately on his back and being ravished by a previously comatose babbling king.

“Oh God, El! Yes, yes, all of that! Jesus Christ, you’re a good kisser.”

Reluctant as he was, Eliot pushed Quentin far enough above him to look in him the eyes.

“Wait. What the hell just happened?”

Quentin awkwardly shrugged, but his eyes twinkled with merriment and were hot with seduction.

“Uh, nutshell? I could hear everything that was said, and you just saved me by being my fucking one true love, seriously what they hell, fanfiction didn’t lie?! Oh, and you were totally misguided in trying to bring my ex-girlfriend here to kiss me. I kinda figured out what I felt for you was sooo not platonic when I crowned you, oh Mr. Spectacular. I kinda want to blow you now. To, umm, thank my hero and prove how much I really really like that he decided to kiss me?”

Eliot tilted his head and laughed, before pulling Q down into a rather filthy kiss.

“Oh Q, baby, I am so into that idea. However,” he said as he ran his thumbs across the apples of Quentin’s elated cheeks, “I almost lost you today. If you are willing, I feel the need to worship your body and make you scream my name.”

Quentin’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He didn’t need words, though, he strongly nodded his head and attacked Eliot’s mouth again.

A few hours later Margo contacted Fen through a magic mirror spell.

“Shit, I can’t find Alice anywhere. Dean Fogg said she was doing some work-study at the Library.”

Fen blushed and tipped he mirror closer to Quentin’s door. While Margo couldn’t see anything, she certainly heard something.

Margo smiled. “Son of a clit! That sounds awfully like our Q moaning that Eliot’s cock is a magical gift?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Fen said timidly.

“How long has Q been awake?”

“Oh, I’d say a few hours.”

“And how long have they been at it?”

“Just a little less than that.”

“I don’t think I should be this happy that my best friends are boning….but…huh…True Love, huh?”

The Cupid’s Bow Roses were very carefully removed from the Fillorian Flower Forest, as well as any normal roses removed from the castle grounds.

On their fiftieth anniversary, Quentin gift Eliot with a bouquet of red tulips and Peruvian lilies.

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

Hiraeth (Seven x MC)

Hello! So...this is my first Mystic Messenger fanfic and the first part of my word series, which is basically just where I find an unusual word and make a fanfic out of it. Easy as pie! If you like what you read, feel free to send a request.

Right, on to the fanfic! Enjoy!

WARNINGS:

Contains spoilers for Seven’s route and Secret Endings

Strong language

References to child abuse (only hints, nothing explicit)

NOTES:

Slightly angsty with poofs of fluff :3

hiraeth (n.): a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

PART 1 - The Agent (2 years ago)

“You’re slacking, 707.”

He knew he wasn’t in his right mind that day, who would be on a day like this?

“Listen to me kid, this is serious. You know exactly what happens to people like us when they don’t get things done in time. There is a reason they are called deadlines,” Vanderwood said smoothly.

Luciel felt a chill crawl down his back at the memory of agent 425, who for some reason disappeared out of thin air after ‘a small accident’. Luciel knew the danger of the situation, he knew he needed to get this done, he just couldn’t keep thoughts on track, “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong with you? You’re usually much faster than this, are you sick or something?”

“I’m fine.”

Vanderwood let out a sharp sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. This kid was going to be the death of him. He knew all this time what was wrong with him, it was the same every year. “Listen, is this because today is the anniversary of when you left home?”

Luciel flinched at his choice of words. Anniversary sounded too jubilant to be wasted on such a day, it should only used for a day that should be celebrated and  not loathed. However, home was the word that hit him the most. That place was not home. It was an empty shell, a hollow space that seemed only to be appropriately filled with the screams and cries of those who were too weak to escape it. That had no privilege to be called home.

“I said I’m fine, Vanderwood,” he said steadily.

Vanderwood let out another sigh, this one much lazier than the last. Whilst he wasn’t supposed to, he knew this kid had had a hard life; that even though he supposedly chose this path, Vanderwood knew deep down that when it came to the bottom of it, he had no choice. “Whatever it is, please at least try to focus and get this done. I have things that I need to get done so I’m going to trust that you will finish this, okay?”

“Sure.”

As soon as Vanderwood left, Luciel rocked back on his stiff chair. This was torture. He let his mind wonder and his rather vivid imagination took over him. He thought about all the terrific places he could have gone, all the beautiful things he could have seen, all the brilliant people he could have met. Was this really the right choice? What other options did he have? What other ways could he have saved him? He snapped back into reality at the thought, and as if by instinct he reached for the floppy disk hidden inside a book of fairytales and inserted it into his computer. Everything melted away as he scrolled through the photos of his other half, and his chest ached and he felt a lump form in his throat at the nostalgia of their smile and how their eyes squeezed shut as they did so. This is why he went through this torture. It was for him. Maybe Vanderwood was right, maybe he did leave home behind after all.

Luciel shook his head and shut off his computer, all the colour that enfolded him gradually fading into a cold, bland grey once again. This was for the best. Deciding that he needed a break, he plonked himself onto his bed and logged onto the RFA chatroom.

Yoosung★: Failed my midterms fml T_T

707: Cuz u played LOLOL all night lol.

Jumin Han: If you want to work for our company, you should take care of your GPA.

Yoosung★: I’m still on the list?! +_+

Luciel quietly chuckled to himself as he read through the chat, joining in here and there. He truly loved the RFA; it was the closest thing to family that he had, the only secure thing in his rickety life. But he had to put up a barrier between himself and them, to ensure their safety and to prevent things from getting…complicated with the agency. That barrier just so happened to be painted with silly jokes and a happy-go-lucky persona, which was both exhausting to keep up and a refreshing distraction from his other life. This was all apart of the game he had to play, the balls he had to juggle and stones he had to step on to keep everything in his life as balanced as it could be.

He had come to the realisation a long time ago that he will never live an honest or steady life, since it appeared that he would never see his brother again and the RFA could never know who he truly was. He was slowly loosening his grip on the fantasy that he will ever have a true ho-

707: Wait!!

Yoosung★: Why?

ZEN: ??

707: Think someone entered the chatroom;;

PART 2 - The Apartment (1 year and 358 days ago)

“Seven, why the headphones? Are you avoiding me?”

Dammit. He knew his meaningless flirting in the chatroom was turning into something…maybe not meaningless. Now he was here with her in Rika’s apartment, and he could no longer keep up the facade like he had in the chatroom.

His barrier was being broken down.

This was for the best, he thought. Just push her away and eventually she will give up, she’ll move on and be happy with someone else. Someone with an honest life, a good job and a secure future. This was right. This was good. This would 100% ensure her safety and well being.

So why did it hurt so much?

He carried on typing to stop himself looking back at her, otherwise he would never be able to say no to her. He kept his focus as his fingers moved across the keyboard like he was being repeatedly shocked by electricity. It felt like that too.

He glanced at the clock on his laptop and noticed that he had been working for several hours, which meant it had been several hours since MC had last spoken to him. Did his plan work? Had he finally got her stay away? Was she finally safe?

In that sense he was relieved, but something just wouldn’t settle in his stomach. They had only known each other for a week, but he knew MC well. She was stubborn, there was no way she would have given up so easily. He slowly removed his headphones, expecting to hear the sound of pans clashing in the kitchen or the shower running or loud music leaking through earphones. Nothing. Feeling everything in his stomach sink, he darted to the kitchen. Not there. Bathroom? Not there. Living room? Not there.

His heart was pounding against his ribs as he frantically searched the apartment, nearly turning it upside down. Shit. His breath started to grow more rapid as memories of her spilled into his mind from when his beloved twin almost took her away from him. For the first time in his life, somethings clicked:

“Seven!!!! I love you!!!”

He was loved.

“Seven…are you okay?”

He was cared for.

“Alright, I’ll trust you, Seven.”

He was safe.

Seven froze as he reached the one room in the house he hadn’t yet searched: her bedroom. Lightly he rested his ear on the door, only to hear gentle and quiet sobs coming from the other side. His beaten heart split right down the middle and he squeezed his eyes shut to prevent his own tears spilling out. Gathering up all the strength he could find within his shattering form, he gently knocked on her door.

“MC?”

The crying abruptly stopped, apart from a few sniffles before a small voice peeped from the other side of the door, “Y-yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Mhmm.”

Slowly he clicked the door open and creeped into the dim room. He could just make out her crumpled figure lying on the bed, hiding her face from him. He knew it, she was stubborn. He knew he shouldn't have, but he impulsively wrapped his long arms around her body in an embrace. MC was shocked at first, but eventually gave into his warmth and wrapped her own arms around his torso, her head resting in the crook of his neck, “I-I just-“

“Shhh it’s okay MC, I know.”

Together they sat there in silence. Neither spoke, neither needed to. They just sat there in each other’s arms as their breathing and heart beat synced. Time passed and MC could feel her eyelids growing heavier and heavier, until the power of sleep over took her. Seven felt her eyelids flutter shut against his neck, and laid her down on the bed to keep her in a comfortable position.

When he was sure she was going to stay asleep, he removed his arm from under MC and laid the blanket over her sleeping form. Before leaving her to rest, he pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead, “I’m sorry, MC, but I think I might be a little bit in love with you.”

And with that, he went back to work. New thoughts started flooding into his brain, thoughts of how he had almost lost her twice. Once to Saeran, once to herself.

He found her, then he saved her.

He saved her, then he shoved her away.

He found home, then he burnt it down.

Seven laughed at his own stupidity and the ridiculousness the situation he had found himself in, “People like me aren’t supposed to settle,” he thought to himself, “we’re supposed to forget.”

…

“We’re made to lose.”

PART 3 - The Housewarming Party (Present day)

“Hello? Earth to Saeyoung?”

Saeyoung snapped back into reality and turned his head away from the view from the balcony to find an even more stunning view in front of him, “Terribly sorry m’am, the Defender of Justice just received a call from the Space Station. Apparently they have run out of napkins for our wedding so we will have to bring some ourselves.”

MC playfully slapped his shoulder before hugging his arm and looking at the rest of the city. This was their favourite time to watch the city; all the little lights from the buildings blended perfectly with the stars, a light breeze flowed through the air, and it was quiet. The only sound to be heard was the sound of music coming from inside their new house. More specifically, music from musicals (it was Jaehee’s turn to choose). MC looked up at her fiancé before pressing a kiss on his shoulder, “This is our home now.”

“I guess it is. We did a pretty good job finding this place. Nice neighbours, amazing view, gre-“

Saeyoung was interrupted by his lover’s giggles. God, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get used this. She settled down and once again rested her chin on his shoulder, “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you’re not wrong, it is a lovely house. But, that’s all it is right now, a house. It will become home in time.”

“And what is home to you, oh wise MC,” Saeyoung queried.

She shot him a playful glare before turning serious again, “Well, I think home can be a lot things. A place, an object, a person, an idea, anything. It’s not really about what it is, it’s the feelings that you get from it. It’s where you go when you have nowhere else, where your heart takes you when you are most lost. Home is where you feel all fuzzy inside, like when you’re drinking hot chocolate or when you’re snuggled up on the sofa watching your favourite movie. When you’re home, you’re cared for and looked after. It’s a bandage, a medicine, a kiss better. Home is warm, it’s safe, it’s love.”

When he went quiet, MC turned to Saeyoung but was caught off guard when he leaned forward placing a firm but soft kiss on her lips. How did he get so lucky? How did he find someone who understood him so well? He laced his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him as she wrapped her own arms around his neck. They could go on forever, completely lost yet found in each other, something neither could describe. But a familiar salty taste brought MC back to reality. She loosened her grip to look up at him, tears streaming down his face. She would have asked him what was wrong, but she didn’t need to. She knew the answer, and she knew those tears had been held back for a long time. So instead, she just gently wiped away his liquified fears with her sleeve, never to be seen again, “And what is home to you, Saeyoung?”

He let the corners of his mouth curl upwards and leaned towards her again, his hand cradling her neck. Yes, he thought to himself, this is it, right? This is hom-

“Ew.”

Almost flying apart, they looked at the doorway only to see a familiar figure standing in the middle of it, “S-Saeran!”

“Uh sorry to…interrupt but um we’re going to take some photos inside…” Saeran said, looking at the floor and rocking on his feet.

“Oh yes of course! We’ll be out in just a sec,” Saeyoung replied cheerfully.

“Actually, uh, Saeyoung?”

“Yes, Saeran?”

“I just wanted to say,” he paused, “thank you for letting me…live here with you guys. I know I’ve been a lot to handle over the past few years, but thank you for not giving up on me and watching over me. When you first helped me escape Mint Eye, I thought I was being betrayed, but now I see that you took so many risks to help me and save me. Thank you, you two…are my family and I..love you both.”

Both Saeyoung and MC were stunned to silence at this sudden outburst. Saeran was usually so bitter and had spent most of his time blaming Saeyoung for everything that had gone wrong in his life, but now he was thanking him? And saying he loved him? His initial thought was that Saeran was just playing some sick trick on him, but the rosy flush over his cheeks told him otherwise.

Saeran’s figure started to blur through Saeyoung’s eyes as they once again filled with tears. Overcome with emotion, he lunged towards his twin and engulfed him in his arms, which Saeran reluctantly returned. One step at a time.

“Um, should we go and take the photos now?” Saeran said, though his voice was muffled in his brother’s hoodie.

“Yes, yes we should,” Saeyoung quickly wiped his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie, “um, you two go ahead, I’ll be right behind you!” he shot them his signature cheery grin.

“Okay, don’t stay out too long, it’s getting cold out here,” MC said before pecking his cheek and following Saeran inside. She linked arms with him and playfully ruffled messy hair with her free hand, the sight of them interacting like that made something warm bubble in Saeyoung’s chest. His heart may be be damaged and bruised, but it was healing. They were healing him. Maybe home wasn’t just one thing, maybe it was in the form of two people? Taking a deep breath, Saeyoung went back inside his new house. The whole RFA was there preparing for the photo.

“Jumin, move! You’re blocking my good side!”

“Every side is your good side, Zen.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, Jaehee.”

“Yoosung, you’re standing on my foot. Please remove it.”

“Oh! Sorry Jumin! I’ll just sit here instead.”

Saeyoung chuckled warmly at them, which grabbed the attention of the blonde who was moving round the red sofa, “Saeyoung! You’re back! We saved you a space next to MC and Saeran.”

Taking his place on the sofa, he looked round at all his friends. They were all smiling at him, at each other, laughing and settling into their own positions. Saeyoung felt that familiar warmth in his chest before something clicked.

“Ready!”

He had waited so long.

“3!”

This was it.

“2!”

He found it.

“1!”

It found him.

Click.

“Woohoo! Good job gang! It looks great!”

“Lemme see!”

“Me too!”

“I would like to see.”

“Jaehee, can you see it from there?”

“I can, it’s wonderful.”

Only MC and Saeyoung were left on the couch, a few seconds passed before MC spoke up, “You okay?”

“I think I know what home is to me now.”

MC smiled fondly at him, relieved that he had finally found peace, “I’m so happy you found it, you deserve it.”

Saeyoung leaned back on the couch, MC in his arms and observing the chaos in front of him. Sure, it was messy, but it was his mess. It took him his whole life up to this point to find his haven, and it finally came to save him. The RFA was home, his brother was home, the woman in his arms was home.

This was home.

There we go, my first piece of writing for Mystic Messenger. I know it’s not perfect and it’s a bit rough round the edges, but hopefully I’ll improve with time. As I said before, requests are open and I have some more ideas in mind, so stick around!

Have a fab day everyone!