#so cold and slow when I picked it up (basking) which is why I'm like cradling it lmao

[trans-xianxian]

more creatures today!

[angstama]

cigarettes | rindou.h

pairing:  rindou haitani x reader , mitsuya takashi x reader

genre: angst, fluff, romance

warnings: alcohol, smoking, cursing, suggestive, rejection!

✧. "hey, wanna smoke cigarettes together with me till the day we die?"

this is the alternate ending to mardy bum! where reader chooses executive rindou haitani instead of our dear mitsuya takashi :-)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : cigarettes and feelings - the haunt

"for the love of god rin, you're so fucking slow!"

you gently tugged your cream coloured cardigan against your skin, pulling it close to shield you from the cooling air in the open as you excitedly roamed the streets of prague.

you were currently on the Europe leg of tour for your latest art series exhibition and finally had the day off to explore the little capital city with your lover and hopefully check off some of your bucket lists if rindou could only increase his pace just a little bit more.

you watched rindou roll his eyes, tapping the excess ash on his cigarette before stuffing his other hand into his pocket. "but you love it when i go slow and steady." he muses, a smug grin etched to the corner of his lips. your eyes widened, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard the suggestive comment that your boyfriend had made before shooting him a glare, "i swear rin, if you keep saying shit like this in public, i'll literally never let you fuck me again." you deadpanned.

rindou doesn't say anything but only slowly made his way towards where you've stopped to wait for him, eyes never leaving yours once. you raised your brows when he leans in to your ear, "i'd love to see you try darling." he whispers, voice husky from the lingering warm air of nicotine in his throat which only sent you squealing on the inside.

"whatever." you huffed, walking away to which rindou hastily grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting any further away from him. "cigarettes doesn't keep hands warm you know?" he says, intertwining your hands together before pulling you with him to visit the places you had in mind.

"man, i could sure do this everyday." you stretched your arms above your head and bending your body sideways before turning to face rindou and stealing the lighted cigarette in between his lips to place in yours. you allowed your lungs to inhale the ever so addictive nicotine into your system, mind slightly clouded which made the spectacular view of the cathedral in front of you even much more beautiful than it already was.

you were in awe. you've always wanted to come here and you remembered ever wanting to visit this very cathedral with your first love, mitsuya takashi. yet here you are right now with someone else who isn't him. someone else who held your hair back when you threw up from the excessive drinking in hopes to get rid of the aching feeling in your heart. someone else who would let you paint their body like a canvas when you were bored. someone else who would go on to make you forget that you've ever loved mitusya takashi.

the two of you sat in silence, both basking in the breathtaking view of the cathedral. it was peaceful and everything was perfect. the way the colours of red and orange skies blended together as the sun begins to set, the way your beloved cigarettes tasted almost sweet this very evening and the way rindou's warm hand was intertwined in yours, you never want this moment to end.

"hey," rindou whispered softly as you pried your gaze away from the view and to your man. "wanna smoke cigarettes together with me till the day we die?"

3 y e a r s a g o

you carefully lowered the needle on your spinning vinyl, gently swaying to the tune as you started to prep yourself for your very own art exhibition that would be showcasing tonight.

it had been almost three months since you had last seen mitsuya takashi and during these three months, you had resorted to throwing yourself into paintings after paintings while rindou had stayed by your side, supporting you through every step of the way wether you’re high or not and you were absolutely grateful for that.

your heard that mitsuya takashi had gone on to continue excelling in the fashion industry and you were genuinely happy for him. though a part of you still wished that you were the one who helped him make it through.

“how do i look today tiger?” you gently rubbed your cat’s tummy, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips. you hear him meow a response as you unclipped the claw clip that held your hair together, letting your hair down on your shoulders.

your doorbell suddenly rang, catching you off guard. you weren’t expecting any visitors today you were sure of it. “rindou? is that you?” you called out, opening the doors only to be met with a pair of familiar lavender orbs staring back at you.

it was mitsuya takashi.

your breath hitched upon seeing the familiar face that you missed oh so very much. “ta-takashi? why are you here?” you stammered nervously when mitsuya leaned in closely towards you, causing you to stumble back slightly. “yours. i’ll always be yours if you want me to be.” mitsuya breathed. crashing his lips onto yours before you could say anything.

rindou.

your eyes widened when rindou's face flashes at the back of your head which caused you to roughly pushed mitsuya away. "wh-what?" you stumbled back. oh how you've waited so long for the day that mitsuya would declare himself to be yours. you've dreamt of the day that mitsuya would finally kiss you with those pretty soft lips that often utter words of affirmation to you so why did you think of another man when he kisses you?

"you've got to be kidding me right?" your lips trembled, staring wide eyed at mitsuya who reached out to your arms. "i'm not y/n. i love you y/n. i've always did and i'm sorry it took this long for me to say it to you." he looked at you with pleading eyes.

this isn't right. it can't be.

"you're fucking kidding me takashi?" you laughed hysterically when you felt your legs give up, the cold tiles hitting your bare legs. "you can't do this takashi. you can't!" you ran your fingers through your hair frustratedly.

why does he always have the right to hurt you like this?

"you can't just disappear for months and then come knocking on my door saying that you love me! that's so fucking unfair!" mitsuya lowered his gaze, he knew he had messed up and was now paying for all the times he had broken your heart.

you loved mitsuya takashi you were sure of it, but you remembered that mitsuya takashi only loved you when you were sober while rindou haitani had willingly accompanied you through your highs and lows without you even begging for it. and so, you had unconsciously decided that you wanted rindou to stay in your life.

perhaps maybe it was your fight or flight instincts. no, scratch that, you have to look for rindou. you wanted to tell him that mitsuya takashi isn't that great of a kisser than you had imagined.

"i- i have to go." you stammered, anxiously getting up and dashing out of your apartment and leaving mitsuya behind. you have to see rindou.

and so, after running out of your own place with half your make up done and getting on a cab, you finally arrived at the haitani's penthouse. you knew this place at the back of your head, often spending your weekends spinning and dancing with rindou.

you impatiently knocked on the door when the electronic door finally unlocked, revealing the man you've been dying to see for almost half an hour who's now looking at you, mouth slightly gaped.

"darling? thought i said i'll pick you up at your place?"

you wiped the sweat of your forehead with your knuckles, letting out a small exhale before taking rindou's hand in yours and grabbing his neck to pull him towards you which allowed you to finally crash your lips into his.

it wasn't your first time kissing rindou. but kissing him now felt right and it completely knocked the air out of your lungs when you could taste the lingering taste of strawberries and cigarettes on his lips and you loved it. "what's going on darling?" rindou asks when you pull away to look at him with the biggest grin on your face. "i realised i only wanna smoke cigarettes with you." you breathed.

it was a weird analogy. but rindou knows. rindou knew that it was your way of saying the words of "i love you". smoking was more than just an addiction to you, it was your only constant since you were sixteen and you'd never give that up despite the health consequences for you were perfectly okay with dying earlier.

rindou only pulls you into his chest, a hand resting on your head when you hear him mumble, voice muffled. "i'd gladly smoke with you everyday."

you felt the bustling street of prague slowly fade away in the background, leaving just the two of you and the enormous cathedral standing tall in front of you.

"w-what?" you stared at him, eyes wide and searching for any hint of joke or literally whatever that prompts an attempt to prank you in his eyes only to finally realise that he wasn't joking when he remained unfazed. "now?" you gasped.

rindou nods, "yeah. why not?" he squeezes your hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "unless you don't want to marry me?" he joked, raising a brow.

your brain finally fully processed what he had just said. rindou haitani wants to marry you. he wants to be yours till your last breath.

you shook your head frantically, "fuck rin- no! of course i want to marry you!"

"okay, then let's get married now." rindou stood up, dragging you along with him towards the cathedral that you love so very much where the two of you exchanged your vows that very day.

taglist: @theresapancakes <3

[chatsu]

˗ˋ there you are

genre — angst, fluff (?) warning — mentions of death, grief words — 2,124

notes — it is 3:07 am, and i don't want to come up with a synopsis so, i shan't <3 this is my first writing post,, so uhh, please give me criticism !

violet chrysanthemum — unbearable pain at the thought of losing a loved one white chrysanthemum — reserved for sympathy and remembrance lyra — a constellation, which you can read more about here !

hugging his knees on the pavement, oikawa tooru couldn't help but overhear the faint chitter of loved ones greeting each other, serving as a reminder to why he was lamenting in the first place. a combination of heavy sobs and pleas of a miracle, he had grown used to, yet he still found the letters engraved on the cold stone in front of him almost foreign.

the anniversary of your death was fast approaching. caught in the fast lane of change, tooru has experienced almost every stage of grief. almost.

he remembers a shade of reddish brown framing your corpse. a metallic odour accompanied by tears burning every inch of his face, creating a sickly feeling in the back of his throat, which only multiplied as he released his frustration in the form of bargains.

' if only's ' and ' what if's ' his brittle voice had echoed — temporary truces, in which he begged and pleaded with every god and goddess known to the universe, in an attempt to negotiate his way out of this harsh reality.

from denial to anger, and from bargaining which soon melted into his current state of stark numbness in your absence. the past seemed more alive than the present.

stationed on the 4th, hazy reminders of a once living past seemed to obstruct his path of progression leading to the 5th and final phase of this grieving process that must inevitably follow. acceptance.

tooru is a competitive man. on the court, he is capable of adapting to new environments, examining their playing style, studying each and every player in a matter of seconds and having the ability to draw out their strengths — thus, blending into the team as if he was apart of the original line up.

yet, surrounded by this atmosphere of sorrow and anguish, he stuck out like a sore thumb. even after scrutinizing how others had dealt with this profound feeling of misery, their so called 'methods' were in vain, and he continued to suffer.

his fear of being second best, he now had no chance of overcoming. because as if in a race, tooru was exasperated, struggling to catch up with everyone else.

even the stars are lonely, but at least there were a multitude to keep company, and he couldn't help but envy them. your family, friends, hanamaki, matsukawa, hajime, even takeru had accepted the fact that you were gone, as they smiled fondly, memory sweet with you.

tooru could not remember the last time he smiled — a genuine one, that is. one that isn't plastered on when prompted with the constant ' how are you holding up? '. one that creeps up to his eyes to resemble a crescent moon. one with familiarity and love. one because of you.

the setting sun bathed everything in shades of lavender, painting the flowers propped beside your grave a colour he had wished they were. telling a tale of many consecutive days spent in this location, they bloomed brightly and never wilted away for they were regularly changed with a newer, hand picked bouquet. today, the flowers hadn't the ability to mock him, for today was different.

earlier, under what he thought were unfortunate circumstances, he was left stricken by the lack of purple petals accessible. left with no other choice, he let his fingers fumble along those coloured as snow instead. however, opting for these flowers proved to be difficult, as he realised he was breaking his routine.

because the shadow of the past still hung over, his fear of being second best soon morphed into a fear of change. a fear of everything changing. again, while he still had not adjusted to his scars wounded by time. it was nearing a year since tragedy struck. a year since that decisive moment of change.

but due to a sudden yet short lived act of bravery, tooru chose to cease sewing the seeds of habit, and as of right now, he found himself laying these flowers in their accustomed seat atop the gleaming stone. stems slightly compressed due to his secure grip, but petals remaining untouched. although both were chrysanthemums, the previous batches had been violet, and the current were white, simple as.

it is only when his nephew appears in his peripheral, he is snapped out of his trance, plastering a soft smile to veil his conflicting thoughts. hardly a word is spoken between them as takeru gently places an article of clothing on his lap, then is soon walking off.

leaving tooru with more questions than answers, his eyes shift downwards and widen at the sight of his old aoba johsai uniform folded ever so neatly. at an agonizingly slow pace, his slender fingers start to inspect every nook and cranny of the oversized — on you, not him — jersey. he holds it gingerly for this specific piece of fabric is a memory preserved.

and like a bridge to the past, tooru finds himself traversing along the nostalgic path, illuminated by memories time seemed to have dimmed.

as if the past is burned into his psyche, he still remembers the day you ignored him, well at least tried to.

though your actions were deemed fruitless, as you soon dropped your facade when he eventually caught up to you while you were walking home. mentally cursing yourself for your futile attempts at avoiding him, you had confessed that you were not in fact jealous, but curious as to why there were so many girls wearing his exact jersey. there was an attempt to stifle a laugh, yet one look at the stubborn pout on your face was all it took for tooru to burst out laughing.

"what is so funny?" you had tilted your head with a slight scowl painting your features.

impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for a response, but from his hunched figure and the smack! when he brought his hand to his knee was confirmation that his fit of laughter wasn't going to die out any time soon.

"oikawa" you had puffed, and the use of his last name was enough to get his attention, as he flicked an invisible tear off his face.

dramatically, with his hand latched onto his hip to form his signature stance, his free arm stretched out and squeezed your shoulders.

"they're not mine" he chuckled with a shrug and a smile — smug, yet genuine.

"listen tooru, i'm not dumb. you're the team captain right? the number 1's on the back practically mocked me!"

"may i ask, how many were there?"

"you mean how many were wearing your uniform? hmm i don't know, maybe every single girl i saw cheering?"

"yeah, and do you really think i'd have that many jerseys to give away? iwa-chan would be kicking my ass if i was constantly getting new jerseys!"

moments of silence passed and you figured that he was right, but your stubborn demeanour wasn't going to admit defeat that easily.

"i suppose that it would cost a lot of money, which you don't have, seeing as i was the one who had to pay for lunch yesterday. plus, you uhh, still seem as small as you were in first year so i assume you wouldn't need a change in size"

feigning a gasp, he clutched his heart and claimed that it was his turn to ignore you. snickering in response, he cupped your face and peppered it with kisses until he spoke up again.

"you know, ordering uniforms are pretty common for fangirls. buuut, you don't have to spend a single dime 'cause there's only one i'd like you to wear"

digging into his bag whilst motioning you to lift your arms up, he pulled out his aoba johsai jersey. he quickly put it on you and stood back, admiring how the cloth adorned you — no, how you adorned the cloth. this went on for a while, him staring at you in pure adoration, until his face lit up and he went back to fumbling in his bag.

"here! to fully establish that this is for you and you only, a limited edition, aoba johsai uniform, signed by the oikawa tooru" he beamed, placing the top of a permanent marker in between his teeth and biting the lid off.

his left hand found purchase on your waist as the other was in the midst of signing the front and back of your shirt with his signature. tooru being, well, tooru, he began to embellish the entire fabric in little hearts with ' tooru + y/n 's in large lettering, until he was interrupted by your arms outstretching and pulling him in for a hug. deciding against sulking about not getting to finish his oh so lovely drawings, he instead chose to reciprocate and nuzzle into your neck, basking in your warmth.

from then on, it was an essential garment to your outfits. yes, you were reluctant as the bright turquoise colour certainly did not match with everything, but ' you can pull off anything ' is what tooru had claimed. some fashion advice coming from the mf who wore plaid shorts <3

unlike the rest of your clothes in the closet collecting dust, it remained hung up on the handle, ready for use. from matches to study dates which later transitioned into sleepovers, he always complimented your attire in different ways as if it was your first time wearing it.

braiding his chocolate coloured locks, he lay on top of you, the back of his head on your stomach as he made an effort to mirror the rhythm of your breathing with every rise and fall of your chest.

after a lack of commentary, you noticed that he was not staring off into space, but rather the glow in the dark stars you had stuck up on your ceiling. deciding to take advantage, you extended your arm to switch off the lamp adjacent your bed, and while the light faded, the stars gathered overhead.

"oh - hurry up tooru, look! it's a shooting star, make a wish" you gushed, having one eye shut while the other awaited his reaction.

"come on now, you know i didn't bring my glasses with me today, hmph"

"no no, how does that saying go — you don't have to be able to see it to believe it! you're the one always saying those cliche quotes all the time"

".. angel, i'm sorry but this is all just a yellow blur to me. i really can't see anything"

huffing at his habitual use of endearment, you wrapped your hand around his wrist and straightened out his index finger to guide it towards the ' shooting star ' that had not moved from the centre of your ceiling.

"better?"

"much"

letting out a satisfied hum, you both closed your eyes, your conversation, but not your minds as they wished upon the faithful glints of gold which magnified the tranquility of it all.

you eased your grip around his wrist but he took this as an opportunity to interlock his fingers with yours. and with the stars winking from a pitch black sky, your wishes combined, and the soft squeeze of your hands, it was a silent promise that you would always be with each other.

perhaps it was the flower's slight change in hue which resulted in this caprice of fate, because for the first time, he finds himself recalling positive memories rather than remnants of your death.

and for the first time, tooru accepts. the unknown feeling envelops him, yet it does so with open arms, a welcoming smile, and no judgement.

the way he allows his tears dye the turquoise clothing a darker shade, he recognizes that he is no longer under the false pretence that all is well.

he need not question why the corners of his lips subliminally upturn, because as as he clutches this jersey, it's almost as if he is clutching you once more.

while the last stars still fleck the sky, he thanks those lucky stars, for it is you there with him, and he finds solace in your presence.

but this time, tooru isn't afraid to let go.

by no means does he intend to let go of you, no — never. but to let go of the affliction, pain, and instead have regard for the past in preparation for the future. in preparation for change.

and with his damp high school uniform, his smile that is heartful, and the lyra hanging heavy in the eastern sky, they all begin to coalesce into his former self.

the tooru who is not a genius. the tooru who underestimates his own strength, the tooru who overcomes adversity. the tooru, whom you are in love with.

and with the knowledge, and most importantly, acceptance, that you are no longer here with him physically,

oikawa tooru knows that wherever he goes, there you are.

[reid-me-a-story]

Fall Fair

Synopsis: a super quick blurb based off of #13 from this prompts list

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in a while! My wrist has gotten worse over the last 3 weeks so I'm taking it slow and trying to rest as much as possible, but as soon as I read this prompt, I had to write something for it! this is probably the worst one-shot I've written so far but i really wanted to post something since I've been kinda MIA lately

A/N/N: I am so close to 50 followers which i know isn't a lot but I'm so happy that y'all are liking what I'm posting enough to give me a follow! i will be doing a fic as a celebration so please send in your requests! please be patient as I'm still healing from an injury

Couple: Spencer x GN!Reader insert

Category: so much fluff

Content warning: swearing, mentions of food

Word count: 848

You woke up to the Saturday sun shining through the window and Spencer snoring softly beside you. You wanted to take a moment to bask in the moment but you were buzzing with excitement. The day finally came! You could barely sleep last night when you found out that Spencer and your plans weren't falling through because of a case. As much as you loved Spencer and understood that his work was super important, it still bugged you sometimes when plans got cancelled because of a stupid serial killer across the country.

You turned over in bed and looked over at Spencer, still softly snoring. You couldn’t bear to wake him although the only thing you wanted to do was shake Spencer awake and force him out of bed. You couldn’t in good conscience do that – he never got enough sleep. You pulled back the covers and got out of bed as quietly as you could and you padded into the bathroom. You did your usual morning routine – deciding against a shower right now so you don’t accidentally wake Spencer up. After about 15 minutes or so you walk back into the bedroom to see your loving boyfriend starting to stir awake. His hands instinctively reach out for you only to feel your side of the bed cold. You giggle at his confusion and hop onto the bed, straddling him, and kissing his cheek. “Good morning, Spence!”

“Someone sounds excited,” He jokingly deadpans, barely able to conceal a smile. He knows you’ve been dying to go out for weeks but he kept getting called out on cases. Hes glad Hotch decided that the team could have a weekend off. All he wanted to do was spend time with his partner. “I wonder why...”

“Spencer! You know why!”

“Hmm, maybe I need a reminder,” says the man with an eidetic memory.

“Because,” you start, leaning in close to Spencer's face, giving him small kisses in between your next words. “We’re going to the Fall Fair!”

You couldn’t contain your squeals of excitement any longer, causing Spencer to smile. You knew he was excited too. He had never been to a fair and when you brought it up a few weeks ago with the biggest puppy dog eyes he knew he had to experience it with you. Spencer and you decided to head out to the fair after having a late lunch – albeit a small one. You needed to make sure Spencer had the full Fair experience, and that meant eating the greasy food out of a food truck and getting a tummy ache off of too much cotton candy.

You arrive at the fair with Spencer at 3 in the afternoon. You grab Spencer’s hand and basically drag him towards the entrance, he’s stumbling and tripping over the small rocks and roots littering the parking lot, but he doesn’t care. Before going and buying your ticket, you turn to your boyfriend. “Are you ready for the best day of your life?”

“The Second best.” he corrects. You roll your eyes. “The best was when I met you.”

Blushing slightly, you say, “Okay, Lover boy. Let's go!”

You both spend the day walking throughout the fair, watching the local entertainment, eating the greasy fair food and the sweet treats. You even convince Spencer to ride the pop-up rides with you despite his aversion to anything to do with germs. “Fucking deathtraps” as Spencer so blatantly whispered just after getting off the standing ride called “the vortex”. You figured Spencer would love the mechanics of the ride and the physics behind how it works; you weren't wrong but after getting off the ride you had to find somewhere to sit so Spencer could stop his head from spinning. Although you felt a little bad for him, you were also having the best day.

While Spencer loved fall because of Halloween, you loved it because of the fairs. The nostalgia from your childhood, spending at least one weekend going to a fair with your family were some of the best memories of your life.

Once your boyfriend got his bearings, you basically begged him to play a carnival game with you. You knew you didn’t have to beg; Spencer would have done anything you asked of him. You played a few games; whack-a-mole, ring-toss, and Skee-Ball. Spencer had finally won against you at Skee-Ball, winning you a small purple stuffed bunny. “What are you going to name it?” Spence asked as you were walking you your final destination of the night.

You thought for a moment. You never really named a stuffed animal before. “Oliver,” you don’t really know why you picked Oliver, but it just felt right. You smiled up at Spencer before leaning up and giving him a gentle kiss. “thank you”

He looks surprised, “For what, babe?”

“For coming here with me. For doing the things I know you would probably prefer not to do, just to make me happy.”

Spencer just smiled at you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Always, baby.”

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Lost Book of the White Countdown Event - Whump

When Fairytales Lie

(Read on Ao3)

The scene before Alec was as familiar to him as his own hand.

He was in Rome again, and the Pentagram of moonflowers was in front of him. Inside, there were a hundred Magnuses, fighting against a hundred Shinyun Jungs. He watched them, trying to figure out which one was the real Magnus, his hands tight around his bow.

If only the world were a fairytale, Shadowhunter.

His eyes flickered frantically about, trying to find the real Magnus, his Magnus. There were several at par with Shinyun, and then some who were winning, some who were losing. Alec’s heart was beating fast and hard in his chest. No matter how much he observed them, he couldn’t tell who the real Magnus was.

“Time is ticking, Shadowhunter,” said the demon - Asmodeus - from somewhere behind him. "Hurry up."

"He can't," leered a cocky voice from nearby. "He was trying to be the hero, but he doesn't know who to shoot. He doesn't even know who the enemy is!"

A wave of  raucous laughter sounded, mocking him, and Alec's hands tightened on its bow. He searched the faces of all the Magnuses in the pentagram, trying to determine who the real one was, hoping to fine even the smallest of clues. But there were none. They all looked the same.

His heart was in his throat now. He felt rigid and cold all over, as if his limbs were frozen. The cultists' laughter felt like small knives stabbing into his heart over and over again.

Then, all at once, all noise was gone. Time seemed to slow down, and Alec watched in horror as- As…

There was one pair that caught his eye first, with Magnus on his back on the ground, Shinyun on top of him. As Alec watched, she brought down the blade, thrusting it into Magnus's heart.

Alec screamed.

He ran to the pentagram, everything else forgotten. Screaming Magnus's name over and over again, he hit the wall surrounding the pentagram with his bare hands; he needed to get to Magnus, and he needed to get there now before it was too late

But the wall never budged. Instead, Alec was forced to watch as one by one, every single one of the Magnuses fell. Magnus getting overpowered by Shinyun and collapsing with a sword in his chest. Magnus winning over Shinyun, only to have her slash her sword upwards and drive it under Magnus's ribs. Magnus, falling by dozens, his blood spilling out all over the stage and staining the white flowers that made the pentagram.

And all through it, all Alec could do was scream and scream, begging for Shinyun not to kill him, pleading to Magnus's deaf ears to please, wake up, and bang his fists against the wall of magic that never budged.

All of it lasted only a few moments. Alec's voice caught in his throat and stayed there when he realised that all of them were gone. All of them were dead.

He lowered his hands, now bleeding and bruised, and the wall faded. The bodies vanished within the blink of an eye, and there was only one left. The one, Alec realised with a sinking feeling, which was the first to die.

He stepped into the pentagram, walking slowly towards Magnus's lifeless body. There was darkness all around, nothing left except for the pentagram and Alec and Magnus, lying on the ground with blood staining his white robes, his once vibrant eyes now devoid of light, staring up into nothingness.

Alec dropped to his knees and reached out a trembling hand, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Magnus’s face. His skin was cold to the touch, and he was unnaturally still.

Alec exhaled a shaky breath, his fingers moving over Magnus's eyelids, slipping them close. He would never open them again. He would never smile at Alec again, never speak to him of times long gone by, never hold him in his arms or kiss him like he had so many times before again. Alec's breathing turned ragged, and he barely registered the stream of hot tears running down his face.

"Magnus," he whispered, gathering him up in his arms and holding him close. He smelled like smoke and sandalwood and blood, the scent of it so strong it nearly overcame everything else.

"I'm sorry," Alec whispered, screwing his eyes shut, his fingers tightening in Magnus's hair. "I'm so sorry."

I'm sorry I failed to protect you.

I'm sorry I wasn't enough.

I'm so, so sorry.

"Da-da?"

Alec's head shot up at the voice, and he turned around until he saw Max, his little baby Max, held in the arms of the demon who caused all this misery. Alec's breath was knocked out of him at the sight and he scrambled to his feet, almost slipping in Magnus's blood as he stood up.

"No!" he screamed at Asmodeus, rushing to save Max. He couldn't afford to lose anyone else now. He couldn't. "Leave him alone!"

Asmodeus smiled, and the smile chilled Alec to the bone. "Give us some time alone, won't you? I've only just met my grandson."

The smile widened, and Alec watched in horror as his fingers slowly inched towards Max's throat. Max himself was staring at Alec with wide eyes, as if expecting Alec to come and take him in his arms, as if everything would be fine in the end.

Alec surged forward, ready to grab him before Asmodeus did him any harm, but froze when he felt a pair of strong arms close around his waist.

“Alec,” came Magnus’s voice, and his heart nearly stopped. “Alec, focus, this isn’t real.”

“Max,” Alec choked out, watching as his baby started crying, squirming in Asmodeus’s grip. “We need to save Max! Our baby-“

“This was our first vacation, Alec!” Magnus yelled into his ear, his grip stronger than ever. “Why would Max be here?!”

Alec froze.

This is our first vacation. Max shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t even born back then, he thought, followed by Wait, wasn’t Magnus dead? 

No, why would he be dead? I saved him. I recognised him and saved him. But… no, what is happening?

Alec reached up in wonder, placing his hands over Magnus’s. He was here. He was alive and here.

Weren’t Helen and Aline supposed to be here? I don’t see them anywhere. Everything is wrong. This isn’t what happened.

Then came the inevitable realisation. It’s a dream.

The thought was like a stone hurled into a still pond, shattering its perfect mirror-like illusion. Everything faded away - Asmodeus, Max, the pentagram, until only the feel of Magnus’s arms around him remained.

Alec shot up in bed, gasping as he broke free of the dream. He could still see images behind his eyelids, of the pentagram and blood and Asmodeus, but as he blinked his eyes open they mingled with the sight of Magnus and Alec’s bedroom - the vanity table in the corner, the closet on the other side, the red wallpaper in front of Alec - until they faded entirely.

Alec gulped in large mouthfuls of air, still shaken from what he saw. A part of him felt numb, and he felt washed down, like the weathered rock that stool tall after being battered by endless waves from all sides.

He turned, and his shoulders slumped when he saw Magnus fast asleep beside him. Alec closed his eyes for a moment, basking in obvious relief, then stood up and crept out of the bedroom, fetching himself a glass of cold water.

The living room was filled with diffused sunlight from the large glass doors of the balcony. The sky outside was a pale blue. It was probably very early in the morning. Alec gulped down the water in one go, and then went to Max’s nursery to check on him.

Max was sleeping peacefully in his cradle, his legs and arms spread out in various positions, the blanket that Alec had covered him in now kicked to the side. Alec sighed and picked it up again, tucking Max in properly, and then sat on the floor by the cradle.

It wasn’t the first time Alec had this dream. He’d had it several times over the years, and every time he woke up with a terrible feeling that he had failed to do the one thing he wanted, which was to protect, and his loved one’s lives weighing heavily on his heart. Alec knew the dream by heart now, and yet when he tried to recall the specific details they slipped from his mind like water.

“Alexander?”

Alec flinched when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, and looked up to see Magnus staring down at him with obvious concern. Magnus sat down beside him, his hand coming up to rest in Alec’s hair, and Alec leaned into him.

“What happened?”

Alec shook his head. “Nothing. Just a nightmare.”

Magnus was silent a moment, then said in a low voice, “The pentagram?”

Alec nodded. Magnus knew. Magnus had always known.

Without another word, Magnus pulled him in close, and Alec folded into him, his arms going around Magnus. This was all he needed - the knot of apprehension and fear in his chest dissipated, and Alec let out a quiet breath into Magnus’s shoulder.

They stayed together for a long time, holding on to each other, basking in the comfortable silence until dawn passed and the morning finally arrived.