#and avoid talking/thinking about it for the rest of their lives but impulse immediately clocks them

[alien-enjoyer]

most popular headcanon for impulse: demon / imp of some variety

what demons are famous for: soul dealing (among other things of course but this is the relevant one)

question: did impulse sense/notice something going on when mumbo and grian did the soul thing in hc8?

follow up question: what was his reaction?

[firewalkzwit]

runt // jonathan crane x reader. (27)

Chapter 27

cross-posted on AO3

masterlist.

Y/N recalled ever since she last saw Bruce Wayne that her character had suffered a major change, turning her into a lethargic slob. Usually, she tended to be proactive and although an avid sleeper and naturally slow paced, she was always high with initiative. Lately, especially since Crane's latest visits had signified growing disappointment and himself displaying early signs of growing distant, she was not ignorant to the fact that Crane wasn't unconsciously drifting away, but rather making a deliberate choice to keep distance, in an attempt of avoiding further attachment. It was completely contradictory, for a man incompatible with love to ever fall victim to it. Besides, he obviously prided himself of being too knowledgeable in the field of psychology to ever fall for those tricks of the brain regular people do. Obviously he also deliberately ignored the fact that he was just as much of a prisoner to other silly desires of the brain rather than his own, such as the growing, throbbing and palpitating desire to possess her that had installed on his brain like a hot tumour.

Crane's hypocrisy reminded her of how he had completely forgotten about her papers, and even though she had become significantly more indolent, she still felt incredibly keen to the world of sociology. It was unfortunate that although she was undeniably haughty and capable of facing bigger threats, such as Crane himself, she was still irredeemably shy, enough to be unable to ask him about her long forgotten projects of which writings he kept in his apartment. In her mind, he'd probably dismissed them as subpar, and as a consequence discarded even wasting his time in affording her his precious feedback, but it couldn't hurt to return what was hers.

With his growing distance and her lack of contact with Bruce Wayne, it was as he drove her in silence to Arkham once again that she could feel what could only be described as a preying Armageddon* slowly approaching, pressuring her to straighten her affairs and making sure anything she had in abeyance in the living realm were addressed immediately. This had her thinking of Crane again, and about how her own small Doomsday clock continued to ask if she was ready to finish what she had started with the Batman.

She was unsure of whether she loved Jonathan Crane or not, which prompted her to assess the circumstances of her infatuation, and the symptoms of withdrawal that slowly begun to reveal. Frankly, any relationship the two had fostered until then could be hardly described as love, even if it disguised itself as such, no man like Crane could love a woman like her, and a mind so determined to fulfil a single purpose like hers could not afford to waste time in even trying to convince Crane that he is a man capable of experiencing love. She finally decided Crane was not a part of such important affairs, and discarded the absurd idea of blurting out how much she loved him in that very moment.

Besides, it was unfair to assume she had enough experience to even reach such a complex conclusion. Eventually she gave up on it, even if she could see how his hand hesitated on whether to rest on her thigh like a married man expresses his affection to his wife of many years or remain on the gearshift. She knew his hesitance was also paired with a repression of impulses, and she could picture the battle in his mind which eventually resolved the ongoing dichotomy by simply not touching her. This only further aided her in indulging in the idea that she had dodged a bullet by keeping her irrational impulses to herself, after all what is a woman who can't keep her thoughts caged if not a mere animal?

"Everything's looking great, we should be able to let it fly in say... two to three weeks?" Even though he asked a question, it was clear he was talking to himself. She hated when men did that, as if completely dismissing the presence of her company right beside him, as well as her ability to provide a perfect answer that was possibly even better than whatever his rhetorical question had offered. Not that she wanted to answer anything though, she couldn't care less about his toxin project and whatnot. Not because it wasn't interesting or an undeniable fuel to an immensely captivating source of study, being needless to add that it was connected to the Batman. But rather than since it was his project, not an ounce of it could belong to her even if she wanted to, naturally culminating in strong aversion.

"How can you be so sure the Batman will come?"

"Please, he wouldn't miss this."

"And if he does?"

"He won't."

"What about me? If he does." And then, he cracked.

"There will be plenty of other opportunities to catch him if he does if this is successful." Caught.

"So you're admitting you're unsure."

"Are you seriously going to pick a fight over this, out of all the things?"

"I fail to see how this is not the most relevant of all the things."

"There is no such thing as an infallible bait for someone as unpredictable as the Batman, this is as good as it gets." He was right, horribly right. It ached her to know that even if her intuition battered on her chest to warn her of an approaching disgrace, she still could not be sure if he was going to be there. The Batman seemed to have a knack for being inconvenient, and the last thing she wanted was for him to not appear when his presence is far more indispensable than it was in a dock where drugs had passed in and out thousands of times, with the only difference being the presence of her brother at that unfortunate time and place.

"Will you take me to dinner after this?"

"Sure, why not." His monotone irritated her immensely, and it was as they sat face to face that she refused to eat her food for as long as she could, waiting for him to notice. It was as the steam that elevated above her dish began to dissipate that he perceived that she had not even stirred the soup before her, but the only observation that came from him was merely a slight gesture with his eyes that went back and forth between her face and the food. A crack on the head is what you get for not asking, and a crack on the head is what you get for asking.

They barely spoke, and the tension between them was bigger than what she could take. In retrospect, she was far more normal than he was, and her tolerance to such friction was significantly less than that of a man who coexisted with the sound of silence ever since he was a child. Quiet dining table as the only sound that bounced between them was the silverware clattering against the porcelain dishes, and the unpleasant wet sound of their mouths opening and closing as their tongues wrapped around the spoons. To her, such sounds were merely human, but he always found himself profoundly appalled by them, as if they were one of the many sounds humans tend to reject for their intimate nature. Not that he hadn't noticed her discomfort, clearly wanting him to notice by not touching her plate, he finally decided it was no worth to torture her with silence any longer.

"You and Mr. Wayne haven't gone out in a while, have you?"

"I haven't called him, no." She began to stir her soup.

"And I see he hasn't called you either."

"He's a busy man I'm sure."

"There's no need to defend him, I'm not attacking him."

"Fine." She let go of her spoon, indicating an end to the conversation.

"Have you thought of anything you'd like to wear for the downfall of Gotham?" In any other circumstance, she might have been more appreciative of his humour than at that very moment, where she found herself painfully unamused by his dark and tone-deaf irony. However she found her curiosity picked more by the strange nature of the question. Who asks that? The last thing on her mind with such impending anxiety by his power-hungry project.

"I have no idea."

"Good, wear some rags. You musn't attract too much attention from the Batman." Her frown displayed her indifference at his distasteful remark, meticulously planning out even the slightest details further stripping her from any opportunity at even choosing what she'd wear for the Armageddon. Still, it was as soon as she arrived that she began to look through her closet for what she would wear, as if it were Fashion Week, the theme being annihilation of public sanity.

*Armageddon: biblical prophesied cataclysmic location where a war between good and evil will be disputed.

its as i work on this fic (the closest to completion ive ever written) that i wonder why can't i ever write a MC that doesn't develop some sort of hatred for the male protagonist at some point, i know i'm a little too keen on possession, the bell jar and the trope of loving someone so much the line that divides it from hate blurs but does it have to be so transparent??? i wish i could write a jane austen but i end up just pulling an ottessa moshfegh, besides its cill's scarecrow for gods sake!! who could ever hate him?? (me)

[aquaticrunner]

Modern Academic Rivals to Lovers | Edmund x Reader

Request by @generalblizzarddreamer : Hey love! I don't know if you're inspired to write Narnia right now but could I have academic rivals to lovers with Edmund Pevensie? Maybe Edmund could be a law student and the reader is a journalism major? Thanks so much if you do it! | Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I did not mean for this to come out so long but I loved the idea and just kinda ran with it. I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I’m so sorry it took so long but I’m finally out of school so I’m catching up on all my requests.

I stood up from the small desk I was sitting at in the university library and stretched my arms up above my head. I’d been sitting at this desk for at least two hours and still felt like I hadn’t made much progress on my project. I decided to go searching for some more sources and scanned the section closest to me. A book title on the top shelf caught my eye and I reached my hand up to grab it. Just as my fingers brushed the spine of the book, another hand reached over and swiped it. “Hey!” I shouted, immediately cringing at the loudness of my voice in the quiet library. I looked over at the thief who had taken my book. The guy seemed familiar like maybe we’d had a few classes together. He had dark, curly hair that had grown past his ears and an easy smile that probably made most people melt. 

“Hey yourself.” He said, chuckling as he started to walk away. I bit the side of my cheek in frustration and made the impulsive decision to follow him. “Excuse me, but I need that book.”

He stopped walking and smirked at me. Despite how attractive this boy was, it infuriated me. “Well, so do I.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I saw it first and there’s only one copy.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You saw it first? What is this, primary school?”

“Seriously? Just give me the book.”

I could see the smile in his eyes as he just looked at me and said, “No.” Then he turned around and walked away again.

I decided not to follow him this time and walked back to my desk, fuming the whole way there. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious guy I’d ever met and I didn’t even know his name. I tried to focus on my project again but gave up after about 30 minutes. I packed up my stuff and walked back to my dorm. When I made it back, I checked the time on my phone. It was only 8:15. Too early to go to sleep. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I saw my best friend’s name. I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear. She answered after the first ring and asked what was up. “Do you wanna go out?”

I woke up the next morning with a slight headache and my mouth dry. I picked up the water bottle that I keep beside my bed but it was empty. I sighed and stood up. I ventured into my small kitchen area and filled up the bottle in the sink. As I drank the water, my mind drifted back to last night. My friend, Valerie, and I had gone to a small club and stayed out till about midnight. I had pretty much gotten over my encounter with that guy at the library. I looked at the clock at the wall and cursed when I realized that it was almost 7:30. I only had 15 minutes to get ready for my morning class. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and brushed my teeth. I rushed out the door, barely checking to see if I had the right notebook. I walked as fast as I could to the humanities building and breathed a sigh of relief when I made it with 3 minutes to spare. I took a seat in the front row where I always did and smiled at the boy that always sits next to me. I opened my backpack and grabbed my notebook, thankful that it was the right one. I opened the notebook to a blank page and sat a pencil next to it. I was waiting for the professor to walk in when someone else caught my eye. It was the boy from the library! So we do have a class together, I thought. I waited for him to see me but his eyes stayed focused on his path and he sat down in the middle row. I turned my head quickly in case he saw me looking at him. 

The professor walked in a minute later and I tried to refocus my mind on what he was teaching. This class was already boring to me. I knew that research and writing were important, but this class felt almost too basic. As the professor talked my mind drifted to the boy sitting behind me. I wondered if he had noticed me yet, if he was as bored as I was, or if he was paying attention and didn’t notice me at all. 

“Does anyone know the answer?” I was snapped out of my thoughts when the professor addressed the class and averted my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t call on me. “Anyone at all?”

“A research question is focused, complex, and arguable.” My eyes widened when I realized it was the boy from last night.

“Yes that is correct, Mr… ?”

“Pevensie, sir. Edmund Pevensie.”

The professor nodded and went back to lecturing. My eyes stayed glued to the boy, Edmund. His eyes snapped to mine and heat immediately rushed to my cheeks and I turned back to my notebook. Now he’s going to think I’m obsessed with him.

When the professor dismissed class after what felt like forever, I threw my stuff in my bag and rushed out of my seat. I made it out the door and thought I was clear and my path was blocked. “Excuse me.” I said, trying to get past.

“Avoiding someone?” His voice burned into my soul and I jumped back.

“No. I just have somewhere to be.” My eyes drifted up his chest as I leaned up to meet his eyes.

The corner of his mouth ticked up and he narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. I’m Edmund by the way. Figured I should introduce myself after you called me a thief.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are a thief. And I heard your name. Everyone in class did.”

This time, he smiled completely. “So…?”

I looked at him, unsure of what he was wanting. “So what?”

He stared at me blankly as if he was trying to figure out if I really didn’t know or if I was messing with him. “Your name?”

“Oh. It’s Y/N.” I don’t know why it surprised me that he wanted my name. Was he trying to be friends or something?

“Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N.” And with that he turned and walked away. Why is he always doing that?

I rolled my eyes as he left and walked back to my dorm, throwing my bag down in the living room. My roommate, Elle, walked out and raised her eyebrows at me. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”

“I am not!” I shouted defensively. She just looked at me and my shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I met this guy and he’s a total jerk.”

Her eyes lit up immediately. “You met a guy?”

“Seriously? That was not the important part of that sentence.”

She laughed. “Well I can’t remember the last time you said the words “met a guy.”” She said, using air quotes around my words. 

I sighed and walked into my room, looking over my schedule for the day. I had one more class and a club meeting later that day. 

“Hey would you wanna grab lunch before my next class?” I asked her, walking back into the living room.

She shrugged, “Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

We ate in the campus cafeteria and I went to my corporate communication class. Now I was on my way to one of the meeting rooms on campus for a debate club meeting. It was my first time joining a club and I was definitely nervous. 

I walked up the stairs of the building and into the room that was on the announcement. A tall girl greeted me at the door with a large smile. “Hi! Are you here to join the debate team?” Her enthusiasm was almost scary but I smiled back and nodded as she handed me an instruction packet. “Great! Feel free to sit anywhere.” I thanked her and took a seat near the middle. Normally I liked to sit in the front but I was a little too nervous tonight.

I looked around for anyone I might know and noticed a familiar boy with dark, curly hair. You have to be kidding me. Ever since our interaction at the library Edmund seemed to be everywhere I was.

He was busy talking to a group of kids at the back of the room. He caught my eye and waved at me with a smirk on his face. I clenched my jaw and turned back around, facing the front of the room.

The girl who greeted me when I walked in had now moved to stand behind a small podium. She cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention and I sat up a little straighter in my chair. She spent the next hour describing what the debate club was like, our meeting schedule, and how often we attend competitions. “Now there is a sign-up sheet being passed around. Please write your name and phone number on the sheet.” She handed the clipboard with the sheet on it to the boy on my left and he handed it to me when he was done. I wrote what she instructed and passed it to my right, not paying attention to who was beside me. Once everyone was done she announced that the meeting was over and we would receive a message for our next meeting time. I sighed and stood following the small crowd out the door.

“Hey Y/N!” I looked to see who was calling my name and of course it was Edmund. 

I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard him, but he caught up to me almost immediately. “Hey, I didn’t know you were interested in debate.”

I shrugged, “Well you don’t really know that much about me at all.”

He put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Ouch. You wound me.”

I smiled condescendingly. “I try.”

“You don’t like me, do you?” He asked.

“I don’t have any feelings toward you.” I said in response.

“Riiight. Is this about the book?” 

I sighed. “No. I don’t care about some stupid book. Look, it's late and I have to go. Bye.”

I walked away from him and headed back to my dorm for the night, trying to concentrate on my project. 

The rest of the week went by quickly with limited interactions between Edmund and me. Finally, it was Friday and I was ready to take a break. However, before I did that I needed to buckle down and finish the project that I had been procrastinating. I packed my stuff up and drove to the library. I spent hours there and by the time I finished, it was dark outside. I packed my stuff up and stopped by the vending machine on my way out. I reached the doors and pushed, but was surprised when they didn’t open. I pushed again and started to get nervous when they still didn’t open. Maybe there’s another exit. I walked away from the doors and searched the perimeter of the library looking for another set of doors. When I didn’t find any, I walked to the center of the library where the help desk was located. “Hello?” I said, hoping someone would answer me.

I heard a voice from behind me, “Please don’t tell me we’re locked in here.” I cringed, knowing who it was going to be before I even turned around.

I slowly turned to face him. “It’s starting to look that way.”

“Do you have your phone?” He asked me.

“No. I leave it in my car when I’m studying. Don’t you have one?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

He waved it in front of me, looking annoyed. “It’s dead.”

I wanted to bang my head against a wall. “Great,” I said sarcastically. 

“Maybe we can use the library phone?” He suggested and I nodded, walking around to the other side of the desk.

I picked it up and attempted to dial a number. Instead of hearing the phone ringing, all I heard was constant beeping. I groaned when I read the inscription at the bottom of the phone. 

Edmund leaned over. “What is it?”

“This phone only connects to other phones in the building. No one else is going to be here at this hour.”

“Well, guess we better make ourselves comfortable.” He took a seat on one of the couches and propped his feet up on a nearby table.

I took a deep breath and sat down in a chair across from the couch. 

He stared at me from across the table and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me?” I finally asked.

He shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out why you don’t like me.”

“By staring at me?”

Edmund laughed and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease just a bit.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” He asked me.

I bit my lip nervously. This is going to be a long night. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

“So you’re acting like this because you do like me.”

“No!”

“So you’re rude to everyone?”

“I am not rude! I don’t dislike you. I just have no interest in talking to you.” I finally said.

“Why not? I’m hilarious.” 

I snorted in response. “I doubt that.”

“You’re judging me based on one interaction. That hardly seems fair.” He said. I looked away, not wanting to admit that he might be right.

“Well it was one rude interaction. First impressions matter.” I said in my defense.

“Okay, well I’m sorry I took the book you wanted. I needed it for a project.”

“So did I.”

He laughed, but it sounded dry. “Whatever.”

I bit my lip, guilt starting to settle in my stomach. Maybe I had judged him too harshly.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have judged you so fast. Maybe we could be friends?” I asked.

He half-smiled and I felt slightly relieved. “We can be friends.”

I smiled at him for what felt like the first time and he smiled back.

“Let’s play twenty questions.” He said, sitting up suddenly.

“What?”

“Twenty questions. I ask you a question and then you ask me one.” 

I curled my hair around my finger nervously. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You can ask me first.”

I sighed, knowing there was nothing else to do anyway. “Fine. What’s your major?”

Edmund laughed. “Okay, starting off easy. I’m pre-law. What’s yours?”

“Journalism.” He nodded, and I sat for a moment, thinking of my next question. “What’s your family like?”

Edmund smiled and his fondness for them was written clearly all over his face. “I have two sisters and a brother. Lucy and I are the youngest and then Susan and Peter. We’re all really close. I don’t get to see them as often as I like but we text all the time.”

I smiled, surprised at such a genuine response. He cleared his throat and then asked his next question. “What’s your favorite food?”

I laughed and tried to think of a genuine answer. “Pizza. Yours?”

Edmund thought for a moment. “I love anything sweet. Why are you majoring in journalism?”

“Well… I’d like to have an impact on the world. I like discovering the truth and telling real stories. Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“To defend those who can’t defend themselves, obviously.” He said, jokingly.

I laughed again and thought of my next question. Edmund and I spent the rest of the night talking and laughing. I had seriously misjudged him. He was actually very pleasant to be around. Eventually, we fell asleep and when the librarian woke us up the next morning I was embarrassed to find that Edmund and I had moved together in our sleep. The librarian apologized profusely for not checking before she locked up and then Edmund and I were on our way out of the library.

He walked me to my car and I grabbed his arm before he turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He looked at me curiously. “For what?”

“For making last night a little better. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been locked in by myself.” In a moment of bravery, I leaned forward and hugged him.

Edmund hugged back and I could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating in his chest.

I leaned back slowly and Edmund kept his arms around me.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

I nodded and Edmund leaned forward, immediately capturing my lips with his. The kiss was passionate and I could’ve sworn I saw literal sparks. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted but I was sure it wasn’t long enough. He leaned his forehead against mine and I smiled at the closeness.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” He asked me.

“I would love to.”

He kissed me on the cheek then began to walk back to his car. 

“Hey Edmund!” I called. He turned back to face me. “Thanks for stealing my book.” A smile broke out on his gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

[her-world-on-fire]

"Did you just kiss me?" {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,583

A/N: Vaisey will be reader's ex-boyfriend.

Prompts: 12a. "it was open and i read it."  10f. "Did you just kiss me?"

hii! if u are taking requests, could i get angst #12 from the 150 prompt list with draco x pureblood!reader? where she broke up w her boyfriend bc he cheated but she's forced by her parents to attend his party on Christmas (all pureblood families were invited). draco is there and comforts her but her ex approaches them and fluff #10 occurs? sorry if it's too specific🥺

"You're going and that's final."

I looked over the protective cover staring back at me. I ran my hands through my hair and groaned in frustration. This was the last place I wanted to be. He was going to be there without a doubt. My parents were forcing me to attend a Christmas party, all the pure-blood Slytherin’s were to be in attendance. No exceptions. For weeks I tried to reason with her, but she would not have it.

All it took was one look from him and I was right back where I started. I spent weeks avoiding him as best as I could. Almost every corner I turned, he was there. We shared the same classes and walked the same hallways. Even harder were all the whispers that followed.

"Poor thing."

"What happened?"

"I heard he cheated with Pansy Parkinson!"

I was just leaving the library. I had intended to study for a couple more hours but as I stared at the pages, nothing made sense anymore. The lines on the page didn't look like words anymore. I returned the books before putting my book bag over my shoulder. I sighed as I got up from my chair, trying to adjust after sitting for so long.

As I reached for the door I ran into Terrence Higgs. He almost blocked the door, preventing me from getting out. He was Vaisey's best friend, the two of them grew close being on the qudditch team. "Fancy meeting you here." I spent every Wednesday in the library, and I had not seen him once. He laughed almost nervously, "Where are you off to?"

Immediately I knew something was going on. Terrence almost never made conversation with me. I had overheard that he wasn't overly fond of me. He only spoke to me if he had to, or if I asked him a direct question. I moved to the door once more, "I was just about to head back to my dorm." He stepped in front of the door, "You know I was hoping you could actually help me."

I narrowed my eyes, "You want me to help you?" He nodded unconvincingly. "With what?" I watched as he looked around and stuttered, "With um," He pointed to the book under my arm. "Potions."

"Right." I stepped away from him and left the library. I made my way to the dorms. I planned to go to mine but I figured I would ask Vaisey if there was something wrong with Terrence. As I walked up the steps to his dormitory, I heard a familiar giggle. Pansy Parkinson's laugh was coming from his room. I tried to come up with possible reasons. Maybe they were studying. Pansy Parkinson was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. There was nothing to worry about.

I reached for the door, and the giggles stopped. I opened the door and found her under Vaisey. He looked up, his head moved away from her neck. His shirt was unbuttoned, I didn't say anything. I closed the door and made my way down the stairs. I heard the door slam behind me. "Y/N." I kept walking, there was nothing he could say that could possibly justify what I saw. "Wait!"

I stopped, and turned to look at him. He has hastily tried to button his shirt. He had missed a button, making it uneven. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears in. "How long?"

"It's not-"

I didn't want to argue, and he wasn't going to give me answers. He reached for my arm, but I pulled away. I kept walking. No one else was in the common room, but somehow in a matter of hours, everyone knew.

I was dreading the party. For the first time in two years, I was going without him. I didn't tell my parents what happened, but they pieced together that we weren't together anymore. I looked back at the protective covering, and unzipped it slowly. Velvet. Jade green.

---------------------------------------------------

I arrived to the party a few hours late. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. I approached my mother. She was speaking to the host. I greeted them both and then went to the kitchen. Most were gathered in the living room beside the fire. I had forgotten how lonely these functions were. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone I knew.  No luck. I poured myself a drink to pass the time. I looked at the clock. 9 pm, another 2 hours and I was clear to leave.

I heard the clink of glasses, the host was going to make an announcement. I rounded the corner and stood by the living room. Everyone gathered in the living room. I started to feel uneasy, he was here. I tried to keep my eyes fixated on the floor. I gently stirred the drink in my hand, keeping my eyes on the liquid inside.

"No. I am not going to tell you again Draco."

I heard harsh whispers beside me. He scoffed, and his mother joined the group in the living room. He stayed by the kitchen, leaning against the marble countertops. I acted like I didn't hear the exchange. Draco's body language said everything. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face had a scowl on it. Odds were he was forced to be here too. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get the younger generation together in hopes of preserving the pure-blood line. That's what all these gatherings were for. It also gave the hosts a chance to show off their elegant mansions. The rich loved to boast, they loved the competition.

We had attended the same gatherings for as long as we could remember. We shared the same classes, and were even in the same friend group. Draco was the seeker for the qudditch team. We were well acquainted. We just hadn’t spent much time together since we were both preoccupied.

The host was making the traditional announcements. Thank you for being here, and so on.  I sighed and looked at the clock again. It had only been 5 minutes since I last checked. Draco chuckled to himself, "I know the feeling." He looked over, "You mind?" I shook my head and he came and stood beside me. He was dressed in an all black suit. He had gold cuff links and black dress shoes. His fingers had several expensive rings wrapped around them. "These are terribly dull." I remarked, and he nodded in understanding.

Even though neither of us mentioned it, we were sharing the same thought. I'm sorry this happened to you. I looked up, the host was still going on with her announcements. I couldn't help myself, my eyes scanned the room. I inhaled deeply as my eyes caught him. Draco followed my gaze. I quickly looked down and took another sip of my drink. I heard him shuffle beside me. He pulled out a small silver flask. His eyes invited me in. I smiled and brought my cup forward. I watched as he poured from the flask. "Thank you." I said gratefully, I couldn't imagine how I was going to get through the rest of the night.

I took another sip. "Would you like some company for the night?" I asked, normally I wouldn't be so forward. It didn't hurt to ask. He chuckled, as he slipped the silver flask back into his suit pocket. "I wouldn't mind it."

Soon the host dispersed the group and they all moved back to their groups. Draco and I settled in the kitchen. We sat on the chairs by the counters. We talked for the rest of the night, helping the time pass much faster.

"Crabbe didn't say much after that." He said pleased with himself. We both laughed, even gaining some attention from those passing by. Soon after Draco looked down at his watch, "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He got up and disappeared into the living room. Spending time with him made me feel normal again.

I had other friends but they had been walking on eggshells. They weren't sure how to approach me. They treated me like I was fragile, and granted I was. But it was nice to just forget about everything, even of it was for just an hour or two. It was almost midnight by now and the party was still humming vibrantly. I heard footsteps approach, I was expecting to see Draco.

Instead, it was Vaisey. I got up from my chair, I was having a good night. I was not going to let him ruin it. "Just wait." He held out his left arm in front of him. "I'm not going to try anything I just wanted to give you this."

"No. No more gifts no more letters, please. I just want to move on."

"This one is different. Just take it, and I won't bother you anymore. You can decide if you want to talk to me, on your own terms. Just please." He stepped forward slowly and brought a gift forward. It had a silver wrapping paper, and a sterling green bow. I took it and he backed away slowly. "I'll give you some time to think." He retreated back into the living room. I sighed and placed the gift on the table.

I stared at it, the smart part of me said to just throw it away. Don't open it, just get rid of it. But part of me wanted to know. Why was this so special he had to hand deliver it? Curiosity got the best of me. I carefully pulled back the green bow, and the silver box came undone. It fell in cascades. It was a collection of small boxes. I opened each one, and they came with part of a letter. The flaps of each box had photos of us collected over the two year period we were together. My eyes brimmed with tears, I looked back at the frozen pockets of time. We were so happy, so in love. Or at least I had thought.

Pictures of us at games together, me wearing his jersey, his name painted on my cheek. I exhaled as the tears flowed steadily. My heart ached. I wanted this, I wanted to be happy again. I wanted to be in love again. But it just wasn't possible, not with him. I pieced the letter together.

I can't express how truly sorry I am. There was nothing that you did wrong. I was selfish and impulsive. I should've never agreed to meet with her. But you deserve to know. You deserve to know it all. So I'm going to tell you the complete truth. It started when you went to the library to study for O.W.Ls. After our game I went to celebrate with friends. One thing lead to another and I got drunk. Pansy came on to me and I didn't stop her. That was the first time we slept together. It continued until you caught us. In total, we were together for 6 months.

The letter kept going but I couldn't keep reading it. So many different things were running through my head. 

“The first time we slept together...”

“For 6 months...”

I left the letter and the gift on the table. I walked outside of the mansion. Once I got outside I moved to the back of the property. My legs gave out and I finally felt it all. I had been trying so hard to keep it together but this was the last straw. I couldn't do it anymore. I let out a sob and felt the tears stream down my face.

He said it wasn't my fault but his actions said otherwise. I wasn't there and he decided I wasn't enough. I continued to sob. The gravel was digging in, but I couldn't bring myself to move. The cold wind showed no mercy. The air ambushed me, making me feel cold. I heard the door to the mansion close. I kept quiet for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I heard the footsteps against the gravel. They got closer and closer.

I looked up and found Draco looking back at me.

"It was open and I read it." Draco held up the gift, and the accompanying letter. I couldn't even be upset. He was going through the same thing I was. I sighed and wiped my tears. "I'm so sorry." He dropped down and put the letter and gift on the floor. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."  I couldn't help myself. I cried even harder.

He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. "It's going to be okay." He held me as I continued to cry softly. After a few minutes it died down. He pulled back and pulled out a few tissues. He had anticipated what happened when he got back and grabbed a few. I took them and cleaned myself up. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"It's okay, really. I understand." And he did. As he read the letter, it was clear for him too. He took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I went to protest but he shook his head and reassured me he was fine.

"Let's get you out of here."

-----------------------------------

I decided I needed to thank Draco in person. It was the least I could do. I decided the walk would help clear my head. It wasn’t very far, only about 10 minutes. When I arrived at the manor, the gates opened before me. I kept walking to the manor. Once I reached the front door I was greeted by Narcissa. She had always been fairly kind to me. I can only imagine it was due to my lineage. “To what do we owe the pleasure dear?”

I laughed a little, “I just wanted to talk to Draco for a moment, if that’s okay.” She nodded and opened the front door. “He had to go and fetch something in town, but he should be back soon.” I should’ve written him to see if he was going to be busy. It had slipped my mind. I hesitated walking in. “I can just come back another time-”

Narcissa put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh nonsense! You’re welcome wait here.” I didn’t want to seem rude. I hadn’t really spoken to her last night, it seemed only fair. She lead me inside into the kitchen. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.” She gestured for me to sit, so I did. She took a cup from a cabinet. “I can’t help but have overheard what happened.”

I tensed up, this was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Of course she knew, it was her son’s girlfriend after all. “Draco was so torn up about it. You both seemed better last night. I’m glad he has someone like you.” She placed the cup of tea in front of me. “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

She asked me a few questions about my parents, but nothing to invasive. I was beginning to regret staying when the front door opened. Narcissa called to him, and he made his way to the kitchen. He looked a bit surprised. “I just wanted to talk to you for a moment.” He nodded, and I stood. I thanked his mother again. He motioned for me to follow him. We walked to the stairs, “Sorry, for just showing up. I should’ve written to you first.” He shook his head, “It’s not a problem.”

He opened the door to his room. I walked in and he shut the door behind us. “I don't know how to thank you." He sat down on his bed. "I'm sure I'll think of something later." He chuckled. We talked for a couple of hours, continuing some of our previous conversations.We were going to be returning to Hogwarts in 3 days. “Perhaps we can catch the trolley together.”

Draco had been left in an unfortunate situation. Most of the friends he had were shared with Pansy. In the ride back home he was stuck with Blaise and Pansy. Neither of them had spoken a word. He didn’t want to have to relive that.

---------------------------------

Draco had kept to his word. We started spending a lot of time together. His presence became comforting. Of course whispers began to follow us again. I tried my best to ignore them. Pansy glared at me in the hallways, as if I was the reason their relationship fell apart. I found it amusing. Her and Vaisley truly deserved each other.

Draco and I were sitting in the astronomy tower. We were studying for a test, but I noticed he was awfully quiet. He was just staring at the wall, a blank expression on his face. “Draco?”

“I think I’ve finally figured out how you can repay me.” Draco stated, making me sit up. Curious, I closed my book and leaned forward. I did say that he could ask for a favor. I almost thought he had forgotten about it. “I’m all ears Malfoy.” He laughed, "Let's have a proper first date." I blinked in shock. I had thought of Draco romantically. But I didn’t anticipate anything to come from it. We had both just gotten our hearts broken, and here we were testing fate. I bit my lip, as I thought over the consequences. Draco tried reading my expression.

“You know I would love to.” 

He decided to keep the location a secret. I tried getting information out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. “But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to wear.” He thought for a moment. “Something warm.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. We arrived at the common room and he walked me to my dorm. “I’ve got some things to attend to, I’ll send an owl soon.” He placed a kiss on my forehead before going back down the stairs. I opened my door and sighed. I looked at my closet and pulled some warm clothes. It was still snowing pretty heavily, but spring was almost upon us.

I got ready and kept an eye out for any owls. A few hours later I heard soft taps on my window. I opened it to find Draco’s owl. I gave him a treat before he left again. I opened the letter.

I had more to do then I intended. I sent a car for you.

Draco

I folded the letter back up and left it on my dresser. I made my way to the gates and sure enough, there was a car. My mind was drawing a blank. As I looked out the window, I watched the snow fall.  It was mesmerizing. The ride wasn’t long, only 15 minutes. Once the car came to I stop I thanked the driver. Once I opened the door, I looked in awe. It was a small cabin. It was decorated beautifully. Warm yellow lights wrapped around it, the walls were covered in a thin layer of snow. Draco was standing at the door, he came and met me in the snow. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He opened the door and we were greeted by warmth. He closed the door and hung his coat by the door. He took mine as well. “Thank you.” He lead me to the kitchen. There was an array of sweets and hot chocolate. I looked at him in shock, “You did all this?” He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for so I got an array.”

No one had ever done something so kind for me. I looked at him in awe. “And I got these too.” He showed me an array of movies. “This is perfect.”

We settled on a movie and moved to the couch. It was right by the fire place. He put in the movie then came and joined me. He took a blanket and placed it over us both. I moved closer to him and he smiled. He moved his arm and invited me closer. Once I did he put his arm around me.

After the movie was over he revealed another surprise. Gingerbread houses. It was something I always wanted to do. I remember mentioning it at the Christmas party. “I know its a little late but-”

“I love it.” I was so happy he remembered such a small detail. Shortly after we got started, his house fell apart. I couldn’t help but laugh, he had managed to set all of this up but the gingerbread house was what got him. “What are you going on about?”

“How did you manage that Draco?” He walked over ad smeared the wall of my gingerbread house. He licked his finger and smirked, feeling proud of himself. “Just like that.” I stared at him for a moment and watched as his eyes trailed to my lips.

He moved closer, the tension between us grew. I thought about how happy he made me feel. I thought about how he had been there for me. In an impulse I leaned forward and closed the space between us. Draco responded to the kiss almost immediately. We broke away and he smiled, "Did you just kiss me?" I laughed and rolled my eyes, going to pull away. He responded by pulling me in once more.

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

[punkiepunzyl]

BLADE TO THE PULSE-

RZ!Michael Myers x Reader

Chapter 1:

Volunteer Hours Be Damned

—————————————————

1.de·lu·sion·al

/dəˈlo͞oZH(ə)nəl/

adjective

* characterized by or holding idiosyncratic beliefs or impressions that are contradicted by reality or rational argument, typically as a symptom of mental disorder.

2.psy·chot·ic

/sīˈkädik/

adjective

* psychotic

relating to, denoting, or suffering from a psychosis.

———————————————————

The first is even worst than the second

Because the second has the gall to be cruel when venting

The first is idiotic at best and naive at worst-

At least with the second you know it's only a matter of time

Before they burst...

———————————————————

"Yeah Mom, I know...I won't-ok...l-love you too. B-." Dial tone followed the abrupt ending to a call that had barely begun. Sighing I glanced up at the neon clock that dimly illuminated my half of the dorm room that I shared with my roommate Kat.

3:49 A.M.

'Why do I want to be a veterinarian again?' Groaning I let my head flop against the clammy light oak wood desk that was provided by the college- and immediately regretted the decision to be so reckless with my body as the tender tissue of my forehead throbbed violently.

"Fucking midterms," I whimpered'"I should've planned better for this." It wasn't that I didn't know the material- I knew it very well- it was my fragile 3.65 GPA, that was hanging in the balance, along with all of my scholarships.

Now here I was at- I glanced back up at the clock-

3:56 A.M.

On a Sunday night.

Suddenly tears of frustration pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I quickly pressed the heels of palms against my lids, because if I started crying now- I wouldn't be able to stop.

I glared at three textbooks spread out on the desk, that were equally judging me in their own way.

"Fuck it."

Dejectedly I closed my books and put them away in my backpack and decided to get ready for bed.

Shuffling sleepily across the 625 sq foot room I trudged past the shared area in the room and noticed the tv was still on, and began rummaging around attempting to locate the remote to turn off the waste of electricity; when then news report for earlier that night began to replay:

"Tonight, the small town of Haddonfield holds vigil for Judith Myers birthday. Judith Myers was 17 years old when she was killed by her 10 year old brother Michael Myers. Some 15 years later the community is still on shock. Judy would've been 32 this year. Michael is now 25 years old and is being held at the Smith's Grove Sanitarium-where he will live out the rest of his lif-"

Losing interest I turned of the tv (I heard about Michael every damn day from my mother), I resumed my nightly ritual of showering- dealing with my hair and picking out my outfit for next the next morning. When I did finally make it to my bed- the fatigue I'd been so keenly keeping at bay, washed over me and gently suffocated be down into the world of sleep.

———————————————————

1 WEEK LATER

———————————————————

Midterms went by smoother than anticipated and I felt a weight lift of my chest, as I made my way around campus. My biology professor Mrs. Whelhers had asked to speak with me regarding a matter for my thesis. And lack of volunteer hours. I looked up at the cloudless sky and sun filled my already impaired vision as I sped walked to the labs, certain that someone was going to jump me for walking alone. My rather feverish anxiousness seemed to roll over me in waves and I clung tighter to my leather crossbody messenger bag that was already digging painfully into my shoulder- the strap taut with the weight of my textbooks.

Luckily I finished my journey completely unscathed- and made my way over to my professors office.

"Mrs.Whelers?" I quietly knocked on the door before calling out again. "It's (Y/N)! You said you needed to speak to me regarding my thesis! I can come back if n-"

Mid sentence the door swung open to reveal a very VERY hungover Mrs.Whelers. I simply stared at her, dumbfounded as I attempted to make sense of her disheveled appearance.

She had heavy purple bags under her eyes- which were rimmed a violent red around her amber irises. Her usually neat strawberry blonde hair looked it was attacked by birds on her way to work, and as for her clothes the were wrinkled. I'd spotted more than on fraying hem and food stain along her skirt and sleeves of her chiffon blouse.

"M-Mrs.Wheler? Are you all right?" I murmured then proceeded to reiterate

What I'd stupidly said a few moments before. "If now isn't a good time for you I would gladly come back another day."

But deep down I also knew that my thesis would be due within the next 5 months and therefore I really couldn't dodge around whatever necessary information she had for me. Especially if it had to do with my volunteering.

Instead the 60 year old woman shook her head and gestured for me to enter the office and waved with a shaky left hand- her wedding ring gleaming in the sunlight that lazily drifted through the tall windows in her office.

Mrs.Whelers began speaking as she sat down, but her words fell on distracted,deaf ears. I'd begun drinking the appearance of the office, all rich maple built in that showed hints of a reddish glow under their glossy finish. 

My professor sighed heavily and immediately I was snapped out of my little trance. My eyes blurred, suddenly watery and after blinking hard to avoid a wave of exhaustion- they refocused with the  precision of a camera lens behind my harsh prescription glasses. 

"I-I'm sorry, could you repeat that...I was a bit caught up in a thought." I mumbled embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to be distracted so easily. Mrs.Whelers looked me up and down cautiously, her eyes narrowing slightly as though she was trying to read the fine print on a document. I stared back at her sheepishly, eyes meeting hers then flitting away nervously. 

I've always been this way when it came to eye contact- skittish and desperate to get away from it. If someone stares at me for too long- I begin to sweat profusely, nausea washing over me like a tsunami...then suddenly my skin feels like its on fire and I'll attempt to find anything on my body to pick at; my face, my arms, my nails, and by the end of it all I'm covered in nicks and scars from my own impulsiveness.

"I was saying Ms.(Y/L/N), that the volunteer hours needed along side your associates thesis are incomplete. Failure to complete said volunteer hours will result in the inability to graduate this upcoming June with the rest of class. More importantly- you will have to redo this past semester, out of your own pocket, your scholarship won't cover you."

"But that'a completely unfair!" I began to protest jumping up almost instantaneously. "I couldn't find the proper volunteer work, every clinic in a 50 mile radius was full for the next THREE MONTHS! I tried every which way possible to squeeze in somewhere; no exceptions could be made!" 

"Unfortunately Ms.(Y/L/N) that isn't my problem- you either find a way to make up the time- in a way that would be approved by the school, or you don't graduate this June. That's final." 

I felt tears swell in my eyes and rushed to grab my bag; I had every intention to run out the door before Mrs.Whelers put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. 

"I didn't call you here to be the bearer of bad news, I wanted to talk about what options you may have; that have been pre-approved by the board..."

I sniffled sitting back down in the white leather arm chair that was seated in front of Mrs.Whelers’ desk. "You already spoke to the board?"

"Yes, they were quite curious as to why a student that has managed to be in the top of her class the past two years, hasn't completed something as simple as her volunteer hours. They realized rather quickly it must've had something to do with the availably of hours, and came up with another idea."

I glanced up at her curiously, "Which is?"

She began to pace around behind her desk as she spoke,"Well considering spring break begins at the end of this Friday- and you will be home for the next week-"

I opened my mouth to tell her there where no clinics back at home that did volunteer work for college students-but she waved a hand dismissively before I could.

"We at the board decided that we would like for you start a branch of animal therapy at Smith's Grove, we know your mother works- so she could be a guide to helping you with patients at first, but this could look really good for your transcripts. What do you think?"

I considered the offer momentarily- I knew getting Mother to agree wouldn't be an issue in the slightest- she’d been trying to get me to work with her at Smith’s for years...

“I could speak to her about it.” I said definitively then added “I’ll email you if she approves of the arrangement.” With a soft smile I moved once more to grab my messenger crossbody and sling it over my shoulder.

“Should your mother accept the boards offer for your volunteer hours I will message to board directly on your behalf, alright?” Mrs. Whelers said leading me to the door. As she opened it I nodded as I passed by- relieved that this problem would most likely have a solution and as long as I completed my 100 hours of volunteer work in the next week, my scholarship and graduation that lie a few months ahead will be safe...

“Have a good spring break (Y/N)!”

“You too Mrs.Whelers...”

Volunteer hours be damned...

***********************************************

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of Blade to the Pulse ☺️. I already have the next few chapters planned so expect an update within the next week or two...

[salamanderskin]

Mad Max Fury Road fic for Sitruksista

This is a commission for @sitruksista- hope you like it :)

It is entirely too Goddamn hot. It's always too hot in the Wasteland, but for some reason it's hitting him hard today. Max leans over the steering wheel and squints against the sun and cloud of dust the car kicks up, until he can see the smudge on cliffs on the horizon. The land below them is a different colour, maybe almost green. Driving towards it feels good. He hadn't been planning to come back to Citadel any time soon. He hadn't intended to come back for the visit before this either, yet here he is again.

He must have misjudged the distance because the sky gets dark suddenly and he realises he will have to sleep in the car. Not the he minds especially: this car isn't a bad one for it. It isn't his beloved V8 Interceptor, but the seats are broad enough to stretch out on, the doors lock tight and make a snug haven. Safe as a snake in a burrow.

It feels good to stop and pull over. When he was driving he was distracted and he couldn't feel the complaints of his body, but as soon as he rises from the seat it all floods back. Here is the ache in his back from sitting for two long, the whole body complaint that comes from living with little water, the gritty feel of sand on his skin. Here is the dull, radiating pain in his right side that came from a tussle in Gastown two days ago. Here, too, is a feathering itch in the back of his throat which is scraped and sore when he swallows. He sniffs, swallows, sniffs again. These things he tallies up without self-pity, taking an account of himself as he would check an engine. He can't do anything about any of them, so he lies straight down.

At night the temperature drops sharply. He settles to sleep dressed in his thick jacket and under the couple of blankets that came with the car. It's more comfort than he's used to and Max expects to fall immediately asleep, but it doesn't come. Instead he lies looking up at the stars through the sunroof, watching as his own breath becomes visible in the air. Each breath comes with a little stab of pain in the side of his chest. The bruising feels deeper than skin level, like it is spread between his ribs, and when his lungs inflate they fight the motion. To make matters worse, from the moment he lies down he can't seem to stop sniffling and the fluid is irritating his throat further. It doesn't bode well. He groans and rubs a knuckle under his nose until he is finally able to sleep.

He wakes later than expected, with the sun already well over the horizon. The car has gone from freezing to a greenhouse moist with his own sweat.

As he rises the itch in nose is suddenly fanned. All he can do is draw a ragged breath to sneeze convulsively, directing his head over his shoulder. “CHIZSCH!!” A boot of pain sears from his ribs.

And again- “hg--CHIZSCH!!”- as he bends to lace his boots. He presses a palm to his side but the motion is just as painful.

And again as he starts the engine. This time it lingers at the edge of his senses, leaving him to pant and shake his head as he waits for it to come. He doesn’t want to risk the pain again, and endeavours to make the release as small as possible, a strangled “hsssecchtt!” against his balled up fist. It makes his eyes water and his head ring but it doesn’t make him feel like he is being kicked again, so that is a small success at least. If he can just sneeze as little as possible, the rest of the drive should go smoothly.

...................

The security around the towering bulk of the citadel has not weakened since the Immortan’s fall, but imperator Furiosa and her band of faithful have changed the protocols such that the moment Max is recognised he is escorted through.

The bunch of gangly teens on the gate burst into delighted yells when they clock him.

“We’ll tell the Imperator.”

Max grunts in the negative then says more clearly, “No.”

He holds enough authority that they back off respectfully and allow him to skulk into the citadel more or less unmolested. A gaggle of War Boys converge on the car as soon as it is stationary. Grabbing monkey hands reach to feel the edges, smear in the grease and peek under the chassis to size it up. Unwanted touching of any kind makes Max’s hackles rise and he snarls at them until they back away.

He regrets it at once- the boys are only curious, and the exclamation tears through his throat like a swallow of hot lead, sparking a brutal fit of coughing that make him double over.

His head doesn’t clear when the coughing does. His vision is left blurry and lurching, his sinuses clogged. Despite the wasteland sun he finds himself shivering and the back of his neck if bathed in cold sweat.

Not good. None of this is good. It makes him feel vulnerable. Trapped and lost and split between the impulse to crawl into a hole and come out then it’s over, and to dash back out into the open desert where the open sky might make his skin feel less tight. Another sneeze hits; a few miserable minutes to brace against his ribs and pray it won’t happen, followed by equally miserable minutes of frantic, ticklish breaths as he prays it will.  Anything to purge the wretched tickle.

He is aware he looks ridiculous as he squints at the sun. Draws a heady, preparatory “uhhh-“ and lets it out again multiple times before he finally sneezes.  

After all that, the itching feeling is barely gone. Not good at all.

Max doesn’t know his way around. He has never stayed for more that a week at a time and the Citadel is a labyrinth of corridors, roaring industrial equipment Being back again makes his heart jump and the muscles twinge. Being back makes the visions and faces and memories louder and harder to quell. He asks an effort to avoid the hellhole the Immortan had called the infirmary. Max doesn’t know if he can keep it together in the face of those machines.

Instead he wanders. It is surprisingly easy to find a spigot where can refill his canteen. It seems Furiosa and her women have wasted no time in sharing Joe’s hoarded water table with the masses. The simple luxury of it takes his breath away. Max drinks and drinks, savouring the coolness against his raw throat. It doesn’t occur to him to splash his flushed face. That would be an unholy waste.

This done, he paces the inside of the Citadel. It’s largely quiet. It seems the population have moved from the miserable tunnels to the newly developing gardens on the sheltered north side of the cliff. The old halls are all but abandoned. That suits him. It’s getting harder to keep straight as he walks. There are speckles at the edge of his vision. He needs to find a place to lie down.

He walks for a long time and finds himself meandering downwards into smaller and smaller rooms, getting further away from any natural light. It feels safer and there is no one to look at him when he is seized by an ugly coughing fit or tries to blow his clogged nose. Eventually he finds what looks like a bunk room. There are arrays of beds with thin mattresses stacked three high. Some of them still have sheets and pillows and some of them even are clean. Max knows he should let Furiosa and the others know he is here. They would treat him like a king, give him food and water and a real bed... and they would look at him and talk and ask questions and it would all be more than he can bear. He'll make himself know later, when he has rested up a bit. If he could just shake this head cold or whatever it is, he'd be able to make a decision. Maybe even remember why he is here. Instead he chooses the bed furthest from the door and gathers enough blankets to cocoon himself.

Lying down makes the pressure shift in his nose. He knows he is going to have to sneeze again and if he does so while lying like this, the effect on his injuries will be catastrophic. In frantic dread Max manages to sit up and brace against the back wall, pressing both palm hard into his rib cage as though holding back a tide. Once he is ready the sensation eases away, of course, and he snarls in frustration, worrying a knuckle beneath his septum in an attempt to bring it on. He itch-itch-itches at it until all he can do is draw a gasp and slam the resulting sneezes into his waiting shoulder.

“hsssecchtt!-- hsssecchtt!--- hk-hsssechue! Fuck- HHSSChue!”

That last one knocks all the air from him and he groans, lying back and trying to settle. Max didn't think he'd ever relax here in Immortan Joe's Citadel-as-was, but his eyes weigh shut and he falls into a sudden, fretful sleep.

... …....................

It doesn't take long for the news to pass through the Citadel.

Imperator Furiosa has often imagined Max returning. In idle moments she works on different scenarios that feature him striding out of the desert like a conquering hero. These ring false even in her fond imagination. She barely knows the man she had called 'fool'. It had been hard enough to drag a name out of him, let a alone an affectionate reunion. He isn't the type. That said... arriving without warning and holing up in a back-room like a rabbit in a den? That was contrary and stubborn enough that it might actually be true.

Upon locating the room, she pauses at the threshold to draw a steadying breath. She feels for the gun at her waist, the knife in her boot and the calm, confidence in her stance. She is not afraid of him but she has seen the way he sleeps and the way he wakes as though chased by hungry ghosts. So she clears her throat, then taps a knuckle on the door frame. Lets him know she is there in plenty of time.

In response there is a startled, animal sounding snort, followed the sound of a convulsive cough. Furiosa herself is startled by the sound- she thinks she can feel her heart kicking the adrenaline through her system. That is definitely because of the sudden sound. Nothing at all to do with how good it is to see him again.

There he is. Her fool. Max. He is half-sitting on a bed in the back corner of the room and coughing fit to choke. Furiosa waits until he is finished coughing and looks up.. Then waits a moment more for him to blink away the ghosts.

“Hey.”

Recognition dawns. “You.” He rasps.

“Me.” She affirms. He seems calm enough, maybe even pleased to see her, so she approaches the bed and makes to squat down beside him.

Apparently this the wrong thing to do.

Max pushes frantically away from her until his back is against the wall.  He casts her an expression she can't read, all squinted eyes with the corners of his mouth twitching into a snarl that makes him look completely feral, then-

“huh—CHIZSCH!!” His head snaps down and he sneezes with cringing strength. This is followed by a miserable groan as he nurses he hands against one side of his chest in obvious pain. He gestures her away from him between shallow, desperate pants before he is hit by another round of sneezes. By the time he is finished, his nose is red raw as he abuses it with the sleeve of his shirt.

He tries again to shoo her away but it is distinctly half-assed- he knows already that she doesn't take commands from him. True to form, she ignores his defences and settles beside him on the mattress. He rises to sitting and there is no disguising the pain the movement causes.

Furiosa winces in understanding. “You look like shit.”

Max nods, snorts back congestion. “Sick.” He explains, eyes cast down.

“And the rest?” She gestures at his cringing curl to one side.

“Ribs.” He shrugs.

“Broken?”

He shakes his head. “Bruised.” “Let me see?” She comes a little closer, tries to touch him only to have him shy away again, shake his head more violently. Oh yeah, he isn't one of the touch-starved War Boys who sleep in puppy piles for warmth. She needs to work up to actual physical contact.

“Okay, okay!” Backing off, hands raised. However even from this distance she can feel the cooking heat of a fever coming from his back.

“You're burning up.” She tells him.

He shakes his head again. “Cold.”

“Nope, that's just you. If you come upstairs you can see Capable. She's getting really good with herbs now, she'll be able to give you something.”

She already knows he'll refuse but she has to offer. From this angle she can see how he shivers, see the tiny hairs rising in goose-flesh along his limbs despite the warmth of the room. He looks longingly at the rumpled sheets he has pushed to the floor, so she passes them and nests them over his lap as much as she can without invading his space.

“Or I can get Capable to bring some medicine down here?. Something for your ribs, and some hot water?” She coaxes.

Another vehement head shake. Max's breath gets quick and noisy, agitated by the very idea of another person and he starts coughing again. He tenses as though to run away, pushes back further into the wall with his eyes darting to each corner of the room.

“Okay, okay, okay. No new people. Just me. Lie down at least?”

He would dearly like to brace against to ease down in the bed, but manages himself with a small production of grunting and gritted teeth. When he settles, Furiosa passes the blankets so he can pull them up to his chin. She snatches another from an adjacent bunk and adds it to the pile.

Max scrubs the heel of his hand against his nose and sniffles, or tries to sniffle, and she can hear the wall of congestion in his head. Another sneeze would be unfortunate at this point and it looks like it won't be long. With this in mind, Furiosa stands and tells him,

“I'm going away for ten minutes. But I'm coming back. Just me, okay?” She isn't sure if he hears but he doesn't actively protest so she leaves him to snuffle.

As she paces the corridor, Furiosa wonders what the hell she is doing. She is about the furthest thing from a nursemaid. Max is a terrible patient. She has a hundred important things she should be doing right now and none of them are tending to that fool who will clearly be fine in a few days. She cracks her knuckles on one hand and fiddles with the mechanics in her prosthetic arm as she marches through her domain, gathering items... She must be growing sentimental.

When she returns to the sickroom, Max has stopped shivering. His eyes have a hot, glassy look and his lips and nostrils are equally cracked and dry. She sloshes the water in the canteen to get his attention and passes him some clean cloths from the infirmary.

“First, blow your God-damn nose.”

Max gives her a dirty look.

“Fool...” she grows warningly.

So he does. It's a horrible, heavy sound but he seems to breathe more easily afterwards.

When he rises to sitting and lets her settle beside him, she allows him the water. This is followed by a cup of the tea that the women have been making from those hardy, mentholish herbs coaxed from their bounty of ancient seeds. Max raises an eyebrow at it, questioning.

“It won't poison you. It's supposed to be good for this kind of thing. Capable's been giving it to the War Boys.”

Max takes a sip then puts the cup down hastily, raises a hand to to hover in front of his nose as his expression grows slack with another building sneeze. Furiosa catches the weak –uhh- at the back of his throat as he tucks a cloth over his nose and smothers the sneezes to tight, almost soundless exclamations. She can feel the mattress shake with the suppressed force but it doesn't seem to hurt his ribs so much that way. When he keeps shuddering with sneeze after sneeze, she rests a hand on his heaving back. She fully expects him to shrug her off as soon as he regains his senses, but he actually tolerates the touch. God he is warm though. It's like sitting beside a furnace.

Eventually he recovers enough to drink the tea. He looks up at her over the cup, not seeing her at all but looking over some inner wasteland brought closer by the fever. He blinks at her in surprise when she takes the cup form him, as though he expected someone else.

“M' gonna go to sleep.” He rasps; a long speech by his standards.

“Good idea. You're safe here.” She agrees.

This time he uses her shoulder as leverage to lie himself down, and when she sits beside him on the narrow mattress he doesn't shy away. It must be the fever making him docile, like a fierce dog undone before a hearth fire. She is fascinated by the slackness of his rough hands against the cotton sheets, by the shadows under his eyes and the flush at his cheeks that makes him look almost like a doll. His breathing stays raspy and she can hear the sickness in each breath, but it slows to a steady, satisfying rhythm.

She thinks he must be asleep already when one eye cracks open.

“Say that again?” Max asks in a cracked whisper.

“Say what again?” Her mind casts back a few beats and- oh.

“You're safe here.”

As if that was all he was waiting for, he falls asleep at once.

END.

[sunmisgirl]

Strangers

For ☀️ anon: The Exo reaction to their fight with their girlfriend was so good. I really enjoyed reading it. Would it be possible to get a full scenario with maybe Lay or Sehun?

Couple: Sehun x female reader

Genre: Angst with some sprinkles of fluff

Length: 1.3k

Nina’s Note: This scenario developed from an EXO reaction I wrote previously. Italics indicates internal thoughts.

Sehun scrolls through a social media app on his phone and briefly looks up the second you enter the bathroom and turn on the shower. “In three, two, one…” he counts aloud while inserting ear plugs. 

On cue, your strangled rendition of yet another Top 40 Hits song overcomes the sound of running water and echoes throughout the apartment. He laughs when Vivi whimpers at the singing and scurries off to find a quiet place. 

This is the typical morning routine for the three of you: Sehun awakening first to pick up coffee at a local cafe, you singing your heart out during showers to whatever overplayed song circulated the radio waves, and Vivi avoiding you until the singing stopped.

Weeks later…

Every relationship contains its obvious highs and lows. Sehun can’t remember how this all started but one argument led to another which soon created a snowball effect driving you two further apart. 

The apartment used to feel warm and loving but now it is awfully silent and tense. You barely make eye contact and practically ignore each other’s existence. 

Dinners are filled with the sound of clinking utensils instead of occasional laughter and stories shared over a meal. Some nights he even sleeps on the sofa instead of the bed with you.

On the way home from work one day, you think about the current situation with Sehun. You find it ridiculous that you share an apartment yet feel like you’re living with a complete stranger. He has no clue what is going on in your life. 

He doesn’t even know you’re planning a short trip to visit your best friend tomorrow. Just as that thought crosses your mind, you receive a text from your bestie expressing her excitement to see you for a few days. 

Before entering the apartment, you take a deep breath and try to dispel any negative energy. Vivi immediately approaches you by the door so you bend down to greet him and avoid Sehun’s stare. 

Sehun eyes you from the kitchen and continues drinking his glass of water feeling bitter about your distant behavior. He cleaned the apartment earlier and found your airline ticket on the nightstand. He acknowledges the current strain between you two but never expected the relationship to end so abruptly.

“You could’ve told me you were planning to end this relationship.” Your brows furrow in confusion for two reasons: 1) this is the first time he’s spoken in weeks and 2) you’re surprised he’s assuming you’d break up. 

“What are you talking about?” you question while approaching him in the kitchen. He sighs and leaves momentarily to retrieve the airline ticket he found on the nightstand. 

The frustration bubbling within you for weeks reaches its point and you swipe through your phone to show the texts from your bestie instead of responding to him. Sehun instantly feels terrible for jumping to conclusions and starts to apologize, his heart growing weary from the lack of warmth and love in the apartment. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. We’ve been fighting for so long--”.

“Save your breath. I’m so tired of this. I planned to share this information with you tonight over dinner but it seems you already came to a conclusion on your own,” you interject and storm away to the bedroom slamming the door behind you. 

Your hand still clutches the door knob while your head rests on the wooden door contemplating your next move. Memories of the relationship start flooding your mind but one moment in particular stands out.

The first date. Sehun took you to the movies and stopped by a bubble tea shop afterwards. He couldn’t stop staring at you during the stroll through town but you were completely oblivious while looking at store fronts and drinking your bubble tea. 

Suddenly he walked straight into a light pole and bumped his head causing you to burst out laughing. Although he sulked in embarrassment, Sehun would easily make a fool of himself again if it meant he could see that radiant smile gracing your face. 

Times were easier back then. Your relationship bloomed like a flower does in the spring---slowly but beautifully. He was a bit shy in the beginning but eventually opened up to you and vice versa. You suited each other so well, almost like finding the missing piece in a jigsaw puzzle.

Tears form in your eyes remembering when the relationship went smoothly with hardly any rifts between you two. Now the arguing puts such an emotional and mental strain on you. Maybe leaving for a few days won’t solve anything. Maybe you need more time than that.

Sehun decides to sleep on the sofa that night too ashamed to speak to you after assuming the worst. Vivi keeps him company for the evening, sitting close to the sofa and peering at him curiously. “Don’t worry about us,” he mumbles to his loyal companion and reaches out to sleepily rub his head before making himself comfortable and dozing off into a deep slumber. 

The next morning, he awakes in a groggy state but nonetheless determined to put a smile on your face. However, his heart drops the second he reaches the bedroom door. 

Sehun walks deeper into the room finding the king sized bed neatly made with no signs of you besides the spare apartment key resting on the sheets. He then surveys the dresser and discovers empty drawers along with missing clothes from the closet. 

She left. She actually left. 

He stands there frozen in astonishment and anxiously combs his fingers through his dark hair, pondering why you unexpectedly departed without saying goodbye. In the midst of his thoughts, he remembers the time of departure and gate number on your airline ticket. 

His mind and heart plead with him to chase after you but the clock on the wall ticks louder, taunting him and counting the little time he has left to catch the flight. Sehun throws caution to the wind and quickly changes into outerwear before rushing out his apartment.

Upon arrival to the airport, he runs like a madman through the terminal bumping into travelers and ignoring their questioning stares and outbursts. His eyes dart across the masses of travelers searching for your face in the crowd, still hopeful you had a change of heart and decided to stay. 

Sehun finally locates your gate and races over to an employee in the boarding zone. The employee gives him a look of pity while he catches his breath from sprinting through the airport. “I have to speak to someone on that plane. Has it taken off yet?” 

His heart almost stops beating when the employee utters the words he dreaded to hear. “I’m sorry, sir. That flight departed ten minutes ago.”

Sehun wordlessly walks away dejected by the reality of his new life without you. He returns to his car and remains quiet the entire drive home making no attempt to play the radio or even beep at drivers that cut him off on the road. 

He drags himself into the apartment heading straight for the bedroom and closes the door ignoring Vivi’s barks. The first thing his eyes land on is a framed picture of you two during a road trip smiling without a worry in the world. 

Sehun impulsively snatches the frame and stares at it with watery eyes. All of the memories you made together. The joy in his life. His home. He can confirm whoever says home is a place is a clear liar. 

You were his home and now he has nothing left with your absence. He instantly hurls the frame at a nearby wall with a pained scream and breaks down while sitting on the edge of the bed.

[another-bloody-multimuse]

Oleana, flashback

Flashback!

Oleana woke up, and sat up in the bed, disorientated. Where was she? This was not her bedroom.

Oh yes, she was in a hotel. Shehroz had been kind enough to book her a room for the night. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was time to get up to get ready for work. Damn. She actually felt comfortable and well rested, despite the initial disorientation.

After a humiliating stress and sleep deprivation induced breakdown in her boss' office the previous day, Shehroz had insisted on paying for her to stay somewhere comfortable for the night. She had not expected him to book her a room at the Rose of the Rondelands; initially, she had been horrified that he would spend the money to get her a five star hotel room, but good God, she had to admit it had been worth it. She felt like a brand new woman.

It was amazing how much one stress-free night's sleep had rejuvinated her.

She thanked Shehroz profusely for his kindness, and was the most productive she had been for a long time. But, as the work day dragged on, her mood began to sink, first back down to base level, and slowly slipping into a state of stress and irritation again. By the time the work day was over and she was putting her coat back on, she was sighing heavily, dreading what was likely awaiting her at home.

She unlocked the front door, and with a sense of foreboding, stepped inside. The house was very sparsely decorated; no pictures adorned the walls, just peeling paint, and the carpet underfoot was threadbare and ill-fitting. In the living room, there was just one small sofa, only big enough to sit two people, a coffee table, and an empty television stand. That was not empty before she left.

One of the sofa cushions had been pulled off and dumped on the floor; it looked as though the figure currently sprawled across the sofa had been desperately rummaging for something. Inspecting the rest of the house, she saw more things out of place, more signs of disarray. The kitchen had been turned upside down, cooking utensils scattered everywhere - God, she was going to have to wash everything before she dared cooking!

What really made her angry, however, was discovering that her bedroom door was ajar. She always made sure to close it fully, and stepping inside, saw similar signs of a rampage. What few, meagre belongings she owned had been thrown around, her bed was dishevelled and her chest of drawers were open.

She gritted her teeth, as a sense of rage washed over her, and stormed back into the living room. The slumbering figure on the sofa had one booted foot resting on the coffee table, and she shook his ankle vigorously to wake him up.

He groaned, peering blearily around.

'Whassat?' he mumbled, blinking, and smiled dopily when he noticed Oleana. 'Hi Olly...!'

'How many times do I have to tell you not to "Olly" me?!' she hissed, and, realising how furious she was already, the man closed his eyes. 'Oh no you don't! Look at me! Open your damn eyes!'

When she started vigorously shaking his knee, he gave in, and looked at her. She immediately peered at his eyes, and sure enough, his pupils were dilated. His demeanour seemed lethargic, sedated.

'You've pawned the television, haven't you?' she demanded, and he seemed to not fully understand what she was asking. 'Answer me! You sold our damn TV!'

'I needed to -'

'- No, you wanted to, because once a-fucking-gain, you're trying to take the easy way out and make a few quick quid with no consideration to anyone or anything around you! Let me guess, you couldn't find any money in the sofa, right? Or in the kitchen. Or in MY room.'

Oh. Oh, shit. She was aware of that. His demeanour seemed to become more alert, a look of concern sweeping over his face. But it was not concern for Oleana's state of mind, it was fright of the wrath he was about to endure.

'Olly, I swear, if I didn't need to, I wouldn't have -'

'- We had an agreement, you leave my things alone!'

'I could barely make it out of bed! It was so bad, I needed something, some kind of relief -!'

'- Then you should have gone to the doctor! You should have gone a long time ago! I keep telling you this!' Oleana cried. 'You don't trash the house and sell what few meagre fucking belongings we still have!'

'You know the doctor won't help somebody like me,' he morosely replied. 'Not without throwing me to the cops. I just needed my head to stop hurting, that's all -'

'- Maybe you should be handed over to the police! Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?! Do you think I enjoy knowing that when I'm not around, you're out stealing whatever you can? Do you think I enjoy keeping your criminal activities secret? Because I hate this! I feel like a terrible person, covering your arse like this, so maybe you should go to the doctor and deal with whatever happens, police or no police!'

'That's not fair, you know I can't help this -' he tried to protest.

'- No, I know you can't help having cluster headaches, but you can help how you deal with them, and you're choosing self medication, obsessive spending and theft instead of -'

'- Don't talk to me like that!' he snapped. 'The treatments the doctor gave me don't do shit!'

Shouting was certainly not helping, and even his high acting as a protective shield from pain, his head was already beginning to throb again regardless.

'Then you keep trying! I know I'm being reductive, and making it out to be simpler than it is, I am not trying to dismiss your pain, but you're adding to mine!'

'What pain? You don't get these headaches,' he shot back.

'My stress induced pain! My mental pain! The fact that I'm so stressed that I feel like I'm going to have a nervous breakdown! The fact that I'm working two jobs to pay for your debts, and yet I can't make a fucking dent in them because you take out brand new credit cards and rack up more!' Oleana screamed, as tears of frustration began to pour down her face. 'And you used me spending the night elsewhere as an excuse to grab whatever you can and run to the nearest pawn shop, instead of thinking that maybe your addictions and poor impulse control are driving me away!’

'Don't you think this has gone on long enough?!' she continued, not giving him a chance to interrupt. 'Thanks to your reward spending on your latest fucking credit card, that's going to be another five years added until we're out of debt! And it's going to be another five years that I spend working to clear it, not you! I'm done! I could cope with the impoverished childhood, but I hate knowing that anything you have ever given me has been bought with dirty money, or otherwise illegally obtained, I'm done with never knowing if we're going to have enough money for the fucking rent - I don't want to get evicted again! I - I - I'm... I'm done! I'm through, I'm not putting up with this any more. I'm putting my own needs and health first from now on, and you can deal with your debt solo!'

Lester Reid remained silent, even after his daughter had finisihed ranting. He had his head bowed, and his own eyes were welling up. He could not blame her for this. They were in a mess that was entirely of his own making, and he knew it. How could he possibly ever make it up to her? By getting clean and staying that way, but it seemed like such an impossible task.

Storming back into her bedroom, Oleana gathered up the few bits and pieces she owned that had not been pawned off, and stuffed them into a carrier bag. Stomping back down the stairs, she pointedly avoided looking at her father, and left the house, slamming the front door behind her. The noise made Lester wince.

Oleana walked and walked until she found somewhere secluded. She leant up against a nearby wall, with her worldly possessions, and began to openly weep.

[oyesmendes]

there’s no way - 2

a/n: sorry if this hurts aaaand i brought the gif back JAHAHH

summary: when the world of a small town rockstar and global sensation meet, will they fall in love? or will the universe only fight for those meant to be?

read part one here

It had been a couple of days since the confrontation, or confession as most people would like to put it, and Haley’s been avoiding Shawn at every opportunity. She dodged him in the hallways, before and after shows and skipped nights spent in his bus for more time spent alone in her quiet bus. Shawn was dying to grab a hold of her, but she was really easy to miss in her 5’4 size. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how sorry he was for being so impulsive and it was killing him every second he kept those words in. So he decided that tonight was it. They were performing at the Forum in LA tonight, and Shawn was determined to speak to her to clear the air between them.

“Hey Andrew, do you know if Haley’s schedule is packed before the show?”

“Um I think she has one interview before, but her schedule is cleared after. What’s up man?” Andrew replied. Shawn gave him a nod of his head and sped down the hallway to her dressing room. He knocked lightly, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Shawn expected her to run away, scream, shout or do whatever she has been doing the past couple of weeks to shake him off her tail, but instead he was met with her laying on the couch, eyes glued to her laptop and totally unaware of his presence. He didn’t want to admit to it but she looked beautiful; her hair down to her shoulders, and she was dressed in a simple t-shirt with shorts - her go to outfit for stage which made fans fall in love with her even more. Her simple style yet complex mind intrigued many, and that’s how she won the heart of the people, not to mention shawn’s heart too. Seeing that he hadn’t grabbed her attention, Shawn let out a small cough which sent her shooting straight up to her feet.

“Didn’t mean to scare you there, sorry” Shawn laughed, watching as she sat her laptop down on the table.

“Oh uh, yea hey Shawn” Haley stammered slightly, nervous at the thought of even speaking to the boy who she was hopelessly in love with.

“Can we talk?” shawn asked, tilting his head to the side to meet her eyes. Haley looked up to him, for a moment, “um, later? I don’t want to think about too much before the show” she sent him a small smile and Shawn nodded slowly.

“Okay, meet me in my dressing room and we can hang after the show?” Haley nodded hesitantly before Shawn left, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. This was going to be a long night.

-

“That crowd was so amazing!” Haley shouted over the music as Shawn got off stage. She stood backstage peeking with the rest of her band and the venue was buzzing tonight. Fans were signing along to every word so loudly that it was hard to even hear the music. As she was about to take her leave, her manager, Emma, came over to speak to her.

“You’ve got a guest waiting for you in your dressing room” Haley raised her brows as she followed Emma to the dressing room. She wondered who it could be. did she invite anyone to the show tonight and forgot about it? Or was it Shawn pulling some kind of stunt on her? Her curiosity was satisfied when she opened the door to reveal a tall, tan figure dressed in a classic navy blue suit. She knew instantly who it was.

“AUSTIN MICHAELS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” She screamed as he held her in his arms.

“Well, you gave me tickets to this show and I could use a pick me up by my best friend on a Friday night” he replied her, hands squeezing her shoulders as he spoke. He looked intently into his eyes before breaking contact.

“You could’ve told me you were here, we could’ve hung out and all!”

“I’m here now aren’t I?” He hugged her once again, the familiar warmth filling both of their bodies.

“Hales I thought you were going to- woah sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt” Shawn stumbled back a little from the scene.

“Hey no its okay Shawn, this is my best friend Austin. Austin Shawn, Shawn Austin” Haley introduced them to one another and they exchanged greetings, a slight tension filling the air when Shawn’s eyes landed on Austin’s hand placed right at the small of her back.

“I’ll um- leave you two to catch up. Text me later?” Shawn asked as he made his leave. Haley only nodded, being too pre occupied with her friend. The pair talked like old times, laughing over the stupidest things.

“Wait wait before we go on, where’s Amanda? Did you not take her with you?” Haley asked, and Austin looked down to the ground. He took in a deep breath, rubbing his palms together.

“I-i broke up with her weeks ago” was all he managed as his voice shook.

“I’m so sorry, Aus” she placed her hand on his, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. Austin gave her a weak smile, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t meant to be anyway, should’ve known when you told me” Haley frowned when he said this. She knew it from the start that they weren’t going to make it. That the materialistic, whiny bitch was about to give her best friend hell but she didn’t get why he was mentioning it now. Two years since that day, probably one of the worst days of their lives.

“i’m telling you she’s no good for you Austin! why won’t you listen to me?” Haley shouted, watching as Austin paced the room.

“because i love her, and nothing anyone says is going to change it! what makes you so worked up about it anyway? i’m your best friend, you should be happy!” he gritted his teeth, staring straight at the girl he called his best friend.

“maybe because i’m in love with you and i see that she’s not right for you!” Haley regretted it almost immediately, shaking her head as she sunk down into the couch. He was shocked, shocked that his best friend of 12 years was in love with him. but it didn’t matter now, now he had Amanda and that was the only thing he planned to focus on.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry i hurt you. but i love her, only her”

Silence filled the room as they sat, the only thing that was heard was the soft ticking from the wall clock.

“Ibrokeupwithherbecauseiloveyou”

“What did you say?” Haley asked when Austin mumbled out from under his breath, the string of words he had been holding back. Truth is, haley heard it all, every single word was as clear as day to her. But what she couldn’t believe was why and how. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that her childhood best friend, her very first crush that rejected her was now coming back to her after he broke up with his supposed ‘love of his life’. It all seemed like a very twisted fairy tale.

“I’m in love with you” it was nothing more than a whisper this time, but she heard it again, and it made her stand up from her seat. It made her anxious, that not only was her previous crush in love with her, she had Shawn Mendes down the hallway potentially wanting to be “more than friends”.

“I-i.. I- what?” that was all she could formulate in that moment. Austin was now on his feet too, inching towards her to grab her hand. Haley moved back quickly, her hips colliding with the dresser.

“No no don’t tell me or touch me. What the hell made you say that? 2 years after I told you, finally moving on and accepting your bitchass girlfriend. You come up and tell me you broke up with her because you love me?! Who do you think I am? I’m not your rebound, Aus, if you didn’t know im also human!” she was now full on yelling, and Shawn could hear her from the hallway as he spoke to the guitar techs. He made his way closer to the door, trying to get a hold of the conversation.

“I love you, Haley! I only ever loved you! What I had with Amanda was nothing, it didn’t mean anything at all, I only love you and I was stupid to let you go. I might have kept a friend, a best friend, but in that moment i lost the love of my life. I want her back.” He had tears streaming down his face now, desperation oozing out from his heart. Austin came here to get his girl back, but right now it seems like he was losing her all at once.

“I-i,ve got to leave” she swung open the door to reveal Shawn right in front of it, leaning against the wall behind him. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she gave Shawn a cold hard stare, storming off to one of the empty rooms in the arena. He followed silently behind as they entered a smaller room use to hold their instruments. Haley was sat in a corner, breathing hard as she tried to suppress her cries and Shawn stood in the other corner, having no idea what to do with this situation. He knew that she obviously had feelings for him, and he most probably had nothing to worry about but after what he heard between her and Austin, Shawn wasn’t too sure of it anymore.

After what seemed like hours, Haley finally spoke up, “I’m sorry, I can’t do whatever talk you want to have with me right now, Shawn. I’m sorry” he shook his head, hands folded in front of him as he watched her. Shawn wanted so bad to touch her, hug her and tell her that it was alright, yet in the heat of the moment, he could only think of himself. He ignored her words, only to blurt out the world’s worst timed question,

“What about me?”

Haley squinted her eyes at him, and she couldn’t believe what he had just said. Shawn repeated himself once more, causing Haley to scoff,

“You know this world doesn’t revolve around you right?”

“Well, neither does it revolve around you.” Shawn said flatly, and Haley let out a laugh, she couldn’t believe her ears.

“All you care about in this moment is yourself, and how you’re going to fuck me every single night? I thought better of you, Shawn.” Anger was boiling inside of Haley, and she hated this Shawn. He was being completely unreasonable and self-centred in the moment, that she couldnt even recognise him.

“I just want to know if I’m even worth something to you, if we’re worth the fight” his voice was almost inaudible but haley managed to catch his words in time. She shook her head, tears starting to choke her,

“If I meant more than one of your fuck girls, you wouldn’t need to question if we’re worth a fight.”

[promptlists]

Lights Out - Harry Hook X Reader

A/N: I’m officially back in business! Sorry for being M.I.A for so long, I swear I’m back to stay! Word Count: 4982 Warnings: Fluff, swearing, hints at abuse Requested: Yes!

I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader and Harry Hook somehow end up sharing a room and they don’t really like each other but he has a nightmare and the reader comforts him and realises he isn’t as bad/mean as he seems?

“I can’t continue like this anymore Mal, I’m going to lose my mind” You were holed up in your best friends dorm room trying desperately to chug as much caffeine as you possibly could in the few minutes before you had to head to class. “Surely it’s not that bad Y/N” She replied, handing you another mug of coffee. You downed it in one. “Mal! I’ve been running solely on energy drinks, espresso’s and power naps between tutor sessions for the last three weeks. I shouldn’t be alive at this point. I have not slept in almost a month. A MONTH!” You slammed the mug on the table and scooped together a pile of notebooks and papers. When you looked at your watch you nearly had a mental break down. “Oh great! I’m late for English Lit,” you mumbled under your breath before charging towards the door, an energy bar in your hand. Mal stopped you before you could leave, pushing you back down in you chair. “Y/N, you need to sleep” “I’ll be fine,” You weren’t really in the mood to listen to her, you had a English exam to sit and you were already running behind. “I just don’t understand how he’s managed to keep you awake for this long” She was talking about your new room-mate, the infamous, hook wielding pirate who invaded your living space when he arrived from the isle a few weeks ago. Some how you drew the short straw and were forced to have the unwanted VK as a room-mate; life becoming increasingly more difficult from that moment onwards.Since Harry had arrived he had done nothing but infuriate you, using whatever methods necessary to irritate you. So far the most effective of which had been the sleep deprivation. The pirate would purposely turn all of the lights on whenever you tried to sleep and insisted on playing the sound of crashing waves at all hours during the night. You were one audio file of a seagull away from killing a man. “I just don’t understand how I’ve not strangled him yet” You replied, rolling your eyes to show you were unamused “Now will you let me go Mal?” Your purple haired best friend pulled you into a hug. “Fine. Go ace that stupid exam of yours. Then you sleep” Mal said pointedly, a stern tone in her voice that was almost motherly. “And I’m going to talk to Ben. See if we can get you another roommate” You squeezed her harder before pulling out of the embrace. “Thanks M! I really appreciate it. Now if you excuse me I’m about to go get an A” You saluted her as you headed out of the dorm room and into the English Hall, feeling oddly confident despite the lack of proper rest. Mal burst into a rare hysteric fit of giggles as soon as you were out of ear shot. She knew you’d be asleep within the first twenty minutes of the lesson.        

Three words. You had written three words and your eyes were already starting to droop. Three fucking words. Maybe it was the fact that the exam hall was deadly silent or the fact that the lights had been dimmed ever so slightly but you felt the strongest urge to lay your head down on the desk and drift away into a blissful in-interrupted sleep. This was bad., really bad. The English exam was worth a stupidly large percentage of your overall grade and you refused to let some selfish pirate and his odd sleeping habits rob you of your success. “Cowgirl the fuck up Y/N” you whispered under your breath as you forced yourself to prise your eyes open. You were met by death glares from those around you. “Sorry” you mouthed before getting back to scribbling down your answers. No longer caring what the students around you thought, you continued to talk to yourself for motivation. “You’ve got everything under control Y/N, you can stay awake” Everything was not under control, there was no way you were staying awake. To be fair to you, you lasted longer than you thought you would but ten minutes into the exam you were fast asleep.

Tap Tap Tap You felt your whole body groan as you were awoken to the steady sound of metal hitting oak. You were still wrapped a foggy daze after emerging from your nap and you were still unable to comprehend where your were or what time it was. Tap Tap Tap. The noise continued, so you forced yourself to open your eyes and gently scan the room you were in. You saw the desks first, then the chalkboard, then the clock. Then it suddenly clicked. Shit. Tap Tap Tap. The exam was over, all of the other students had left the hall, and you were sat alone at the back of the room, still flat against your desk. You glanced at the paper in front of you, you had’t even finished a paragraph. Tap Tap Tap. It was in that exact moment you realised that you weren’t in fact alone. “Ye look so peaceful when you’re dreaming sweetheart” You felt your blood slowly start to boil as your eyes landed on a particular pirate, sat with his feet up at a desk directly in front of you, taping his hook against the chair leg.  Still, the familiar accent sent shivers down your spine. Crooked smile, dark brooding eyes and one dangerous voice, Harry Hook was unbearable.     “Don’t you sweetheart me” You hissed glaring at the grinning boy “You’re always so fucking smug aren’t you” “I have no idea what yer talking about” he continued, grinning even wider as he began to stalk towards you. “That was quite a nap ye took there Y/N” You scoffed before shuffling in your seat slightly to wriggle away from Harry’s looming presence, uncomfortable with the lack of space between the two you. “I wonder why,” You whispered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him. Harry was now stood directly over you, his hand leaning on your desk, one of his boots resting on the edge of your chair. “Ye wouldn’t be blaming me now would ye?” The pirate began, before picking up your test paper and tutting at the lack of content. “ Oh Y/N, it seems as though you’ve lost your touch” He pouted. “Oh Harry,” you said mocking his tone, “It seems as though you’ve forgotten that the only reason I’m going to fail this test is because you won’t let me fucking go to sleep on a night!” You were becoming more and more agitated with the pirate who was pressing his face closer and closer to yours. You gulped, your confidence wavering, when the tip of his nose brushed the skin by your ear. “Ye know yer starting to blush sweetheart” Harry whispered, a cocky edge to his voice. It was true, your cheeks were starting to prickle with heat as Harry moved closer to you still. Something about him just made you uncomfortable, something unhinging yet somehow alluring. He was good looking, there was no doubt about it, and all it took was a flicker of a smile across his lips and you were practically melting. Snap out of it! You yelled to yourself internally. He was an asshole, a sly, impulsive little flirt who made you fail your English final. Yet somehow, you couldn’t stop staring at the blue in his eyes. Harry was smirking again, clearly aware that you had been daydreaming, so you quickly turned the tables in an attempt to salvage your pride. “I’m done here Hook,” You said bluntly, standing up abruptly and slamming your hands on the desk. The sudden movement clearly took Harry by surprise as his smug demeanour dropped for a second, his usual grin drooping a little. He quickly composed himself again though, the facade re-appearing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. “Leaving so soon sweetheart? I feel slightly offended” You were so close together now, Harry hands snaking towards your waist, his chest pressed against yours. “Let me go Harry,” you growled, trying your best not to make eye-contact with the pirate. You couldn’t trust yourself not to crumble if you looked directly at him. “Why would I do that Y/N?” Harry whispered, as you felt the cool metal of his hook rest against the small of your back. You shuddered. “Get. Your. Filthy. Hands. Off. Me” You pushed him away for good and grabbed your bag, scowling at Harry as you reached down to get it from the floor. You where starting to storm away when Harry called out to you again. “We can finish this tonight sweetheart” Harry called out, his usual Cheshire-cat smirk still plastered across his face. “I wouldn’t count on it” you began, hesitating as you got to the door frame “I’m changing room-mates. Ben’s going to sort it”

It turned out Ben couldn’t sort it, so no more than an hour later you were back at your dorm-room, greeted by the triumphant sniggers of the highly amused pirate. “Back already are ye darling?” Harry teased “Couldn’t get enough of me hey?” You purposely ignored him, charging over to your bed and dumping your binders and notebooks on the quilt cover. Harry followed you, sitting at the foot of the bed and picking up one of your books. You snatched it immediately from him. “What’s wrong with ye sweetheart,” he said patronisingly, “Anybody would think ye didn’t like me” “I don’t” you said pointedly. “Come on, work with me here Y/N,” He was still smirking like a dickhead “Do ye ever stop being uptight” You stopped what you were doing to glare at the boy and throw a pencil at him. “Do you ever stop being a psychotic man whore?” You fired back, really not in the mood for his ridiculous antics. He put his hands to his face, resting his cheeks in his palms and pouted; whimpering as if he was offended by what you had said. You sucked your teeth. “Ye really don’t like me do ye?” Harry laughed “No” You replied bluntly, your mind drifting to the amount of grovelling you were going to have to do the following day to get your English teacher to let you redo the exam. “Ye really should ye know - start liking me - we could have really hit it off” The pirate teased as he inched slightly closer to you again. You huffed, you’d had enough. “Any chance of ditching the industrial lights and sound effects tonight or what?” You asked brightly, shifting your voice to make it sound more optimistic. “Nah” “Then this conversation is over”

The two of you barely spoke for the rest of the night. Well. Harry had tried to his best to flirt his way out of your bad books but quickly relented once a hardback novel went flying across the room and hit him in the head. It was safe to say he didn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Once it had started to get dark outside you changed into your pyjama’s, ditching the floral skater dress in favour of a soft oversized shirt. “Harry! Hurry up in the bathroom I need to get changed!” You yelled at him through the crack in the bathroom door. You didn’t trust the pirate enough for you to get changed out in the open of the dorm room - in fear that he may come charging through whilst you were mid-way through taking off your dress. “Ye know sweetheart it would be a lot easier for ye to just get changed in ye bloody bedroom” The bathroom door swung open and you were face to face with the pirate who was leaning against the door frame. “I don’t want to be exposed,” you huffed defensively, putting an emphasis on the last word which made Harry chuckle. “Ye strange Y/N Ye know” Harry laughed genuinely, his blue eyes lighting up at the way you wrinkled your nose. There were times, although they were rare, when Harry did this, little pockets of random happiness where the pirate simply spoke his mind. It intrigued you. But then again there were far more frequent times when Harry would deprive you of sleep and embarrass you in front of your friends just to spite you. It was unsurprisingly hard to overlook. “Just let me get changed you scoundrel” you said lightly, pushing him out of the bathroom and locking the door behind you.

When you walked out of the bathroom Harry was laid on the sofa, his arms and legs stretched out along the arm-rests as you walked past him. He smirked. “Oh Y/N!” He called softly in a sing-song voice, the teasing obvious in his tone. You ignored him as you made your way over over to your bed, unfolding the covers and clambering inside. “Y/N sweetheart, are ye ignoring me?” The pirate continued, not even turning his head to look at you. “I’m trying to sleep,’ You snapped at him, irritation making you hostile “Although, I’m sure it’s a pointless exercise, you never turn that bloody sound system off” Harry made a mock whimpering noise, before spinning around to face you, a condescending smirk plastered all over his face. He cocked his head at you. “No eye mask?” The pirate asked you with a wicked gleam in his eye. He huffed loudly. You had bought an eye mask, along with some ear buds, in the hope that you’d be able to ignore Harry at night, but you had come back to find they had all gone confidently missing. Asshole. “Do you ever give it a rest Harry?” You asked. You sound more desperate than you had originally planned. Harry only smirked wider. Then he stood up. Walked towards the TV. And turned on the stereo system.

There wasn’t much surprise that you were still awake at two am, even if your patience was wearing thin. Your whole body ached with tiredness, your eyes hollowed, your head pounding, yet there was no way you could sleep. Everything was too bright, everything was too loud. Every limb groaned. You had no idea how Harry could sleep like this, hell you didn’t even know if the pirate slept at all! You grabbed another pillow and pressed it over your head, trying to drowned out the incessant sound of crashing waves in vain, you knew it wouldn’t work, it never did. You sat bolt upright in your bed, scowling deeper than you ever had before. Enough was enough. You were stood up one, fists clenched ready to confront Harry when…

Darkness. You were plunged into complete darkness. Every light in the whole dorm room went out in one quick burst, every lamp, every night light gone, as if someone had blown out a cake-ful of birthday candles. Even the blinking numbers on the microwave had disappeared, anything remotely electrical turned off, sent to slumber But that wasn’t all. Silence. A long awaited, precious quietness fell upon the dorm room,  no more waves, no more seagulls, no more sounds of the sea. Just quiet.  You smirked to yourself. Saved by the power cut. “The fuck Y/N?” Yelled the pirate, leaping up from his bed and clicking the switches on the lamps beside him frantically. It was your turn to smirk, giggling to yourself as Harry tried to turn the lights back on, clearly thinking this was your doing. Didn’t they have power outages on the Isle? “Relax Harry,” you said plainly “It’s a power cut, nothing to do with me. I doubt they’ll sort the electrics out until the morning though so just go to sleep for god sake” “Ye sounding way too happy about this ye know. Just ye wait until I-” “Good night Harry” You said climbing back into bed. You couldn’t see him in the darkness but you could hear that he had stopped moving. Maybe you were actually going to sleep for once. “Ye wouldn’t get it Y/N!” He started to shout “I can’t bloody-” “Good night Harry” you repeated, cutting him off. You were smiling to yourself as your head hit the pillow, the muffled babbling of Harry mumbling profanities making you grin. It was going to be a good night.

Or so you thought. You had slept blissfully for a few hours but soon you were wriggling and writhing in your bed sheets uncomfortably. You were freezing. The dorm room was no warmer than outside, the beginning of a gale billowing, ice creeping along the window panes. “Of course” You sighed to yourself, “The power cut’s knocked off the boiler” You curled up further into a ball, the only warmth from your own body, the ice blocks that had replaced your hands buried deep within your thighs. So much for a good nights sleep. You knew then that you wouldn’t be drifting off and time soon and huffed to yourself, Harry for once could not be blamed. Wind rattled at the guttering and rain beat down against the glass window as you propped yourself upright, starting to shiver properly for the first time. You pulled the threadbare shirt over your knees as you tried to salvage any warmth you could but it was know use, you would just have to deal with being cold. You were considering going to find Mal in her room when your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of somebody unmistakeable afraid.

Your eyes had pretty much adjusted to the dark, the silhouette of Harry shooting up from his mattress unmissable. He was gasping for air, panting and holding his head in his hands as he tried to return his breathing to normal. You were stunned, even through the darkness you could see all of his muscles were tense, the moonlight leaking through the curtains illuminating beads of sweat on his forehead. Harry was a lot of things, scared wasn’t one of them. “Harry,” you called lightly, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper “You okay?” The pirate shot his head around so he was facing you, his eyes wide for a second with alarm before his face settled into a blank unrevealing expression, no familiar smirk in sight. Now you were concerned. He grumbled something unintelligible and the paused, as if considering whether to speak or not, before taking a deep breath and offloading whatever was on his mind to you. “I have constant nightmares okay!” He practically shouted as if he was admitting it to himself for the first time “I wasn’t being an asshole to ye, with the music and the lights, I just needed to hear the sea, it helps ye know. Ye probably think it’s pathetic but I can’t sleep without the fucking light on” He paused before continuing” Don’t ye dare laugh at me Y/N, I’ll gut ye with me hook if ye even think about telling anyone" You didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with all this new information. It stunned you, not adding up to the twisted image of the flirty pirate you had in your mind. You were baffled. “Harry you know full well I wouldn’t” You whispered earnestly. You cocked your head at the pirate at the other end of the room. Harry Hook had nightmares. Harry Hook who tried to set the King on fire when he first came to Auradon, Harry Hook who scared little kids for fun, Harry Hook who flirted with you just to make you embarrassed, had nightmares. Nightmares so bad that he had to turn all of the lights on and and play the sound of the ocean to himself. He wasn’t finished yet. “I’ve always had someone to cuddle with, usually CJ” Harry continued, as you tried to picture the pirate cuddled up to his sister. Piece by piece the arrogant intimidating persona you had come to associate with Harry was coming undone “Now, I realise we are not exactly on that level but yer the only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep” It took a while for you to register what he was saying. He wanted to cuddle with you. Not in a flirtatious seductive attempt but in fearful, vulnerable kind of way. You both needed to sleep you guessed. “Y/N?” He called through the darkness, almost desperately. A knot was starting to grow in your stomach and before you knew it your were stood up, ambling towards the boy. “I’m warning you Hook” you said gently as you reached his mattress “I’m absolutely freezing”    

He untucked the bed covers so you could climb in the bed beside him, wiggling as far as he could to the right side of the bed so you could lay on the left. You didn’t touch, you didn’t speak, you just laid there, you still shivering, him still slightly traumatised from whatever was haunting his dreams. All together, it was unbearabley awkward. “What was it?” You said eventually, you words slicing through the uneasy silence. You felt Harry turn around to face you, his blue eyes blinking at you in confusion. The bed covers wrinkled as he shifted, the crumpling sound the only thing that you could hear. He was bare chested you realised, and forced yourself to draw your eyes away from his exposed torso before he noticed you staring and focus back on his face. “What?” He asked plainly, his eyes looking tired for the first time, remnants of black eyeliner smudged across his cheeks. “The nightmare” you prompted, keeping your voice as soft as possible. Harry inhaled sharply and let out a large breath, the warmth hitting your skin. “It’s the same fucking one every time” The pirate spat, his eyes looking upwards as his jaw clenched, as if he was angry at something you couldn’t see. “I’m back on the Isle. I can’t be older than about  seven and its him, it’s always him” “Who Harry?” You reached for Harry’s hand, or maybe he reached or yours, it was hard to tell. You intertwined your fingers instinctively, a jolt of electricity sparking between the two of you. You were certain Harry felt it too as he looked at you strangely an unreadable expression settling across his face. Neither of you moved your palms. Harry’s jaw was set in place now, his eyes narrowing with a kind of anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you. “My Father. He used to…he used to -” He never finished his sentence. He didn’t need to. And of course there was nothing that you could have said after that. Sometimes all the words in  the whole English language won’t be enough, they won’t help. But he kept looking at you, the bluish-steel of his eyes glassed over and you knew. You knew you couldn’t just lay there any longer.

Just as another bite of cold wind swept under your nightshirt, your hands moved around Harry’s middle, his skin warm and soft. In seconds his body moulded to your own, sharing his body heat as easily as you shared your heart. “Hey,” you whispered to him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck “If it’s any compensation, you’re not half as bad as I thought” Harry chuckled lightly, but only squeezed you tighter. He had never let another close to him like this, close enough to share breaths, close enough to share secrets. “Yer quite something Y/N,” He whispered, slowly returning back to his self again. You snuggled further into him, grateful for the warmth and the unlikely comfort you found in the pirate’s arms. You wrapped yourself around his shoulders, pulling him close and gently rubbing his arm. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You sunk into the warmth of his side and Harry reciprocated, the two of you giggling at things that simply weren’t funny, both appreciative of the friendly gesture. But it was more than that. Way more than just friendly. There was something else there, a spark of something more than platonic. You had hugged plenty of friends  before and it had never been like this. Not ever You hadn’t run your hands through their dishevelled hair and nearly stopped breathing when they stroked yours. You hadn’t traced the contours of the chest or stared when they bit their lips. They hadn’t nipped at your skin playfully with their teeth when you joked about thinking they were a psycopath. They hadn’t cupped your face with their rough palms and told you you were different, different and yet so beautiful. You hadn’t blushed. They hadn’t noticed and said it cute. You hadn’t wanted to kiss them so badly it almost ached. But you did with Harry. And it scared you a little. “You smell like sea salt,” you whispered, the tiredness making you act completely delirious “And metal” “Metal?” Harry asked with a raised eyerbrow, stifling a laugh. “Metal” You confirmed adamantly, before breaking out in a yawn. Harry looked at you questioningly. “What?” You defended “You do. It’s not a bad thing” Harry chuckled at you and you untangled yourself from him, twisting to face away from the pirate.

You started to snuggle down into you pillow when you stopped abruptly. Your eyes shot open. He kissed your shoulder. He kissed your shoulder. Harry freaking Hook just kissed your shoulder. And then he did it again. Before your better judgement could take over you turned around, grabbed the bottom of his jaw and pushed his face towards yours. You were staring at his lips now, doing whatever you could to resist them. Don’t do it Y/N, don’t do it. Come on. Will power, self-control, self-restraint. Stop staring at him, you don’t want to kiss him, you don’t. Resist the sexy pirate, resist the pirate RESIST! You did not resist “Just so you know Harry, I am about to punch you on the mouth with my own mouth, softly, because I think I like y-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence. He kissed you. Without warning, without permission. Without even consciously deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. You lips crashed together, quickly falling into rhythm as you tilted your head backwards.  You felt Harry’s lips curl up into a smile under your own. You pulled away from him, playfully swatting him on the arm. “You could have given me a heads up Hook?” You giggled, running your fingers up and down his bare arms. Harry chuckled airily at you. “What ye were taking too long” He was smirking again. You breathed a sigh of relief, he was smirking again. “Who said I wanted to kiss you Mr. Stinky Metal Pirate” “Ye did not seriously call me Mr. Stinky Metal Pirate?” “I did” You were trying not to burst into a fit of giggles. “I do not smell like bloody metal” “Oh Harry darling” you said in a joking tone “But you d-”

In a split second he pulled your hands away from him and picked you up under arms, pulling you in front of him. You were pinned down, him over the the top of you grinning like an idiot. You were both laughing. “Harold Hook” you said with mock sadness “You’ve picked the wrong girl to mess with” You rolled to the side, escaping his grip and flipped him over, sitting on top of him. You pushed his chest down, your hands pressed against his torso. “Y/N” he said softly, staring directly into your eyes. He leant his forehead against yours. “Harry” He inched his head closer to yours so that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You pulled slightly away but he pulled you back, pressing his mouth against your ear, whispering to you softly. “Anything ye want to tell me lass” “Yeah” you laughed, squirming as his lips tickled your skin “If you don’t want to smell like metal, maybe don’t carry a hook around everywhere” Before you could say anything, he sprung upwards scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder “Un-hand me you beast” you screamed as you flailed your limbs. He eventually let you go and you pushed him backwards on his bed, kneeling your legs either side of him. He wrestled you to the bed again. You tried to push him off, your palms flat against his and you both collapsed in a tangled heap on the floor. You sat up, giggling like little girls. You stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep” You said eventually. “Okay” he said simply grinning at you.

At that exact moment every light switched on one by one, flickering into action. You clasped at your ears when the stereo turned back on, playing the track at a significantly louder volume than it had originally been set at. Both you and Harry groaned but then started to laugh. “Powers back then I guess” You said as you watched Harry wrestling with the speakers to turn them off. “Yeah” the pirate awkwardly said, setting the remote down once it was quiet again. “Still want to cuddle?” You asked hopefully, turning out all of the lights except for he lamp closest to Harry’s bed. He looked up at you, grinned, then looked back at the floor. “Ye’ve just read my mind Y/N” He turned off the final light once you both laid together, you’re head resting on his chest listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing in the darkness. Finally, for the first time in months, you drifted off into a blissful, uninterrupted sleep.

[sordidpassionsandlockedemotions]

(High-school mundane Magnus,Alec fluff au)

Alec was actually slightly nervous pacing around the house waiting for Magnus to drop by,they’d both planned to work on the project for the weekend and finish it that night. Figured no avoiding working on it with his crush on hearing a knock at the door glanced at the clock wasn’t like some big deal was it? Making his way to the door opening it to reveal the person standing there. Brain immediately went ‘woah’ but he shook it off. “Hey Magnus.” 

Seemed as if the other had embellished the makeup,and outfit from school that morning. It was eye catching enough,the clothes and Magnus without the slight change of outfit. Biting his tongue a moment moving aside to let the other male in. “Hey Alexander,so take it just us?” Nearly coughing Alec quickly followed up with a reply. 

“Uh no mean my parents,little brother is out of town but Izzy’s here-.” Was he talking too fast? Seemed so great start to what was just a stupid report nothing more. Just then Izzy came bounding the stairs,”Izzy where are you headed?” Please say nowhere he pleaded silently on seeing her dressed up for some party most likely. 

“Alec,big bro it’s called a party have fun working on your project.” She was out the door shutting it before he could try convincing her to stay,or say anything. Meanwhile Magnus just looked amused while he was internally panicking because here he was home alone with Magnus freaking Bane to work on a project but he also was spending the night-and he really set himself up apparently. 

Pointing awkwardly to the living room trying to recall how to talk,”Right-uh so figure do it in the living room can order pizza later or whatever and-.” Great he’d only gotten worst this is why he normally didn’t like talking with Magnus,spending time. Okay he loved it but not in the capacity of feeling like some obvious idiot one of many because the other had that affect on so many. 

“Or we could throw a party,cause trouble since have this place to ourselves.” Followed by a laugh,”Guess not your type of scene though is it?” He headed into the living room meanwhile Alec flicked himself to snap out of it otherwise the only work getting done would be a series of stupidity. Following him and sure enough as soon they started working he was able to regain his ability to focus by doing all the hard work,more than his share.

Laying on his stomach writing with his feet in the air,tongue stuck out writing but his eyes glanced at Magnus big mistake because brown eyes met his hand sprawled accidentally smearing lead over his hand and the blank paper nearby luckily nothing of what they’d done,or important. “We’re done maybe now can have the rest of the night off,Alexander?” 

Dropping the pencil studying everything around him,”Yeah sure I’ll order the pizza,can grab soda and cups,you can pick the movie.” Doable enough right? Everything put back away in their bags and Alec scrubbed at his hands really harder than needed in the kitchen to get rid of the lead. Ordering the pizza than reappeared with two cups of soda pausing on seeing what was a massive fort instead of the living room. “Uh Magnus?” 

A head poked out,”Bit childish?” Yeah it was but mainly Alec was kind of impressed not that he’d say so. Instead glanced at the time wondering what to do now,pizza and a movie shouldn’t seem like a nerve wracking experience yet here it was the biggest ever. Then was the question of the inevitable sleeping,and breathe he trailed off noting could worry later.

“Uh yeah-mean suppose it’s fine though kind of cool actually and will make it seem like a really comfy theater so there’s that.” Hopefully space enough he could stay a good distance away because if not major design flaw for sure. Unless was one of those ways to mess with him,which Magnus did a good amount as Izzy claimed ‘flirting’ but Alec wasn’t all that sure. “Pizza will be a while so figured make some popcorn here take the soda.” 

He was trying to find the popcorn when Magnus appeared in the kitchen leaning against the counter,”Hey Alexander how long till the pizza’s here?” Alec almost freaked out at the sudden voice but instead finally retrieved the popcorn before turning to face-eyes noting how he was so smoothly leaned against the counter swear it was second nature for him. 

“10 minutes estimated- but just depends naturally.” In about 5 they were inside the fort eating popcorn,pizza,and drinking soda watching some action movie Alec honestly didn’t even recognize at all. Paying attention to it,and not the eye catching figure next to him. Though at one point saw a hand steal popcorn out of his bowl,”Hey you have your own.” 

Magnus just tossed a piece into his mouth,”Yeah I know yours is better though,could say it’s sweeter for some reason.” His eyes landed on Magnus putting the bowl on his left side before glancing back at the tv noting out of the corner of his eyes a head shake followed by a shifting from Magnus. “But also just have more I’ve eaten most of mine.” 

He gave a nod a few more movies later Alec was just so tired,maybe just the result of trying so hard to be indifferent around Magnus the amount of time together. Meant to head up to his room or something but just passed out vaguely aware of what he thought was a pillow. 

Eyes opened slowly noting sun through sheets? Remembering where he was but more aware of what was body heat and his head-was on Magnus’ chest so hadn’t been a pillow. Quickly uncurling from him scooting away knees tucking up to his chest he really wasn’t sure how to say anything when the other woke up. Clearly fell asleep first so wasn’t like could just be left unknown. 

Then he saw Magnus stir,maybe it would just go unmentioned or something along the lines of him having just been tired nothing else to it anyways right? Crossing his legs running a hand through his messy hair right as those eyes opened,”What time is it Alexander?” All he said but Alec overthought it to death before glancing at the time on his phone. 

“9 in the morning,you probably have to go don’t you?” The thought actually hurt a bit maybe because much he’d been on high alert,he’d had fun and wasn’t that terrible waking up close to Magnus-not that he’d bring that up ever to anybody. “I’ll clean this up,see you Monday?” His voice had warmed up fairly fast but just as with Magnus’ had been some rasp-though Magnus’ had been much more a good thing than his own. 

But then there hands touched on a cup Alec had reached for pulling it back yeah Magnus was staring at him with something he couldn’t place. “Not really and I should help you clean up,long as I can maybe get some coffee for it?” Why not no need to be weird he scolded himself. 

“Uh yeah sure Magnus.” Cleaning up was mostly quiet same with coffee but there was some energy that was unspoken,words he figured on Magnus’ end maybe something like ‘so can’t hang anymore’. Cradling his mug in both hands eyes lowered at it maybe Magnus would just finish and leave already. Because he felt like the 15 minutes was a century long. 

“Hey can I ask you something,Alexander?” His pulse elevated even more hated when people asked that,and he knew vaguely where it could go. What with what had happened,couldn’t quite lie about it or if he’d been too obvious deny it that great. Instead watched those ringed fingers around the mug in Magnus’ hand before glancing at him. 

“Sure Magnus.” Regardless what was bound to follow Alec figured the act was up unless some miracle happened to help him avoid it. Watching him place the mug down wait was he actually nervous? Magnus Bane never was so that didn’t help sooth his nerves at all. 

“Why do you think I wanted to do the project with you?” Huh,not what Alec expected at all in fact his brain scrambled for an answer. Actually thinking on it they both could have easily done it on their own,or Magnus with anybody he wished to. 

When it clicked his eyes widened,”Wait you’ve been crushing on me?” No way Magnus was so out of his league,and surely everybody knew better. Besides-oh that explained a lot actually which made him feel even more stupid hearing the laugh that followed. 

“Took you long enough,yeah thanks for noticing have been all year Alexander.” Blushing he stared at his mug well then he must have really taken a while as Magnus put it. “And what about you,mean did wake up to you looking like were going to flee your own house.” 

“I uh-no I wasn’t just waking up-okay look I honestly hadn’t intended to fall asleep or curl up next to you.” 

“But you liked it,just like I did didn’t you?” 

Nodding about to say more but Izzy came loudly down the stairs announcing her existence before walking into the kitchen,”Morning Alec,Magnus.” She grabbed a box of pop tarts before vanishing out the door with a fleeting,”I’m off to enjoy my Saturday,be back later.” Alec just stood there slightly confused meanwhile Magnus just watched but when she was gone felt eyes fall back on him. 

“Yeah.” Dumping his mug out vaguely aware of a ringed hand putting the empty one next to it in the sink. They were so close and Alec still had no clue where the conversation was headed either. But then turned around only to notice they were closer than he’d thought. “Hey Magnus?” 

“Yes Alexander?” 

“Maybe we should give this a shot,or I don’t know guess if you want-because-.” Trailing off couldn’t help get lost in the proximity,how it was now out there for better or worst. “I’d kind of like more nights like last night.” Putting his heart on the line,made him feel sick but the risk was already there for sure. Magnus seemed to stand there thinking for what felt ages and each second made him think he’d really screwed up.

Then there was a soft smile causing the glitter lined eyes to sparkle all the more,”Sounds good,though I’m not going to ask you out just yet.” Okay whatever was Alec’s initial thought but then was a slight bit of panic. “After all been a intense morning without that.” Yet as he said that Alec couldn’t stop shaking the impulsive action growing like a fire inside him. Maybe,just maybe could kiss Magnus here and now couldn’t he? 

Right then almost was like he lost control of his own actions,because he did finding his lips pressed against Magnus’. Arms around him even when buried his face into the other’s chest a reassuring hug of sorts meanwhile his head was so dizzy. “Sorry.” Was now looking into his eyes again searching if had really just messed up,or really anything. 

“You could have asked,but either way it was nice so don’t be.” 

[jonghyundroppedthesoap]

My Number One Fan

Chapter 9

Pairing: JongKey Word Count: 4,345 Summary: Kibum goes to the same, run-down bar every week to watch the man of his affections sing his heart out with a mere guitar for company. He wasn’t expecting the coffee, nor the beautiful personality within the singer. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

A/N: originally posted on @ourshineeshrine

Minho came quickly as promised, arriving a mere five minutes after Kibum texted him Jonghyun’s address. The wait had been mostly silent, Taemin opting to close his eyes and rest his sore body until need be. He had looked around curiously, and questioned Kibum as to their whereabouts, but other than that his eyes had remained locked at the ceiling, not even noticing Jonghyun whom sat by on the neighbouring couch.

Despite Minho’s obvious impatience, he had in fact rang the doorbell, and Jonghyun silently volunteered to answer the door for the teenager whilst Kibum continued to accompany Taemin. The door creaked open softly, and Jonghyun prepared to greet the stranger politely, only to have his jaw drop in shock at the person who met him on the other side.

“Minho?!”

“Jonghyun hyung?!” they exclaimed simultaneously, eyes widening at the appearance of one another.

“What are you doing here?” questioned Minho confusedly, slyly attempting to peek inside through the gap over Jonghyun’s shoulder.

Jonghyun blinked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I live here?”

Minho made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, biting his lip in pure befuddlement. “Then have I got the wrong address?”

Jonghyun shook his head furiously, moving back slightly to give Minho a clearer view into the warm home. “No, Taemin’s here with ‘Bummie.”

Minho stood awkwardly, mind racing through a thousand thoughts an hour. He thought back to earlier that day, hurriedly recalling the conversation he’d had with Taemin at lunch. The revelation about Kibum having a boyfriend, the picture of the hug, realising that the other male was Jonghyun—

‘Oh.’

The tall third year nodded in understanding, though his brow quirked slightly at the older’s use of ‘’Bummie’ and everything else that had been revealed at school. He really hadn’t thought of Jonghyun to be into guys, but then again, he didn’t know him that well. Maybe he could talk to Jinki about it – he ought to know.

Jonghyun stood back slightly, allowing Minho to enter. He followed behind the frog like boy and wordlessly guided him to the lounge, watching perplexed as Minho immediately rushed over to the bedridden male. Kibum silently shifted from Taemin’s side and allowed Minho to privately check on Taemin, joining Jonghyun back on the sofa.

“Taemin-ah…You told me you were going to go straight home!” whispered Minho, Taemin’s eyes shooting open at the elder’s familiar voice.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows with strain, flashing Minho a weak smile. “I was going to, I swear. But I forgot my science homework and quickly ran back to get it…I didn’t think they’d still be waiting.”

Minho sighed, reaching out to ruffle Taemin’s hair. “Next time, text me. I’ll go get your homework for you.”

“But I don’t wanna have to rely on you all the time,” pouted Taemin, fiddling with his hands as he avoided eye contact.

“You aren’t relying on me…I just wanna help you, okay? How’d you get rid of them today?”

Taemin bit his lip and glanced at Kibum, only then noticing Jonghyun who sat beside him, tracing shapes on Kibum’s hand. His eyes widened considerably, yet at Minho’s curious look he opted to answer the question first.

“I just remember Kibum coming down the hallway…and then I kinda fell asleep.” he murmured cluelessly, staring at Kibum with a thankful yet curious look glazing his eyes.

Minho averted his attention to Kibum, the silence being self-explanatory as the two youngest awaited Kibum’s response. Kibum’s eyes, which had previously been focused on Jonghyun’s hand drawing circles on his own, lifted at the silence, blinking at the attention directed towards him.

“Huh?” questioned Kibum obliviously, inducing Jonghyun to lift his own gaze before he hastily removed his hand from Kibum’s.

The two older boys immediately felt as though something was missing when their hands separated, however ignored the forlorn chill that flooded their veins and both concentrated their attention back on Minho and Taemin.

Minho spoke first, raising one eyebrow in pure befuddlement at the mere thought of the situation. Because honestly, one could not imagine Kibum using nothing but force to rid a gang of buff guys.

“Taemin and I were wondering how you managed to get rid of those assholes earlier. Were you alone?”

Kibum’s face remained blank in thought, before all of a sudden a sly smirk played at his lips and a smug appearance adorned his feline face. “Oh, those losers? Yeah, I was alone. Trust me, those guys may look all tough, but a few…insulting words seemed to shut them down in heart beat.”

Jonghyun laughed quietly to himself at Kibum’s arrogant words and kept his gaze fixed on his lap, Taemin allowing a proud grin to grace his lips at Kibum’s recount; however Minho’s expression remained stoic, eyes seemingly glaring into Kibum’s soul. Kibum felt a chill go down his spine at the taller male’s harsh gaze and swallowed thickly.

“Look tough? Are you suggesting that Taemin’s weak? What those guys do to him isn’t some kind of sick joke so don’t you dare act like they’re nothing much.”

Kibum stared in shock, and attempted to fumble for a reply to the intimidating male’s accusation. He sincerely hadn’t meant for his arrogant remarks to come off as belittling to Taemin; he was merely stating it as a joke.

Despite his struggle to defend his words, there was really no need as Taemin spoke up and interrupted Minho’s criticizing words timidly.

“Minho—“stuttered the youngest boy in protest, resting his hand on the soccer player’s arm. “I’m sure Kibum didn’t mean it like that…we should be thanking him.”

Kibum held his breath at Taemin’s words, mentally thanking the younger for practically saving him from Minho. He’d barely just made friends with the two at school, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he ruined his chance at friendship this early.

Minho’s look of anger remained for a few long seconds before he suddenly exhaled deeply and ran his hands over his face in exhaustion. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just really angry at the moment.”

Taemin shot him an empathetic smile. “Don’t worry, Minho…I’m fine, see? Let’s just change the topic.”

All four boys nodded in mutual agreement, Taemin managing to swing his legs around from their place across the sofa to give Minho some room. He patted the seat beside him, and the tall boy gingerly sat down before carefully lifting Taemin’s thin legs so they could rest leisurely across his thighs.

A comfortable silence lingered throughout the spacious yet cosy lounge, enveloping their lazed forms in a warm, pleasant glow. Taemin surveyed the situation before him from his snug position on the soft couch, studying Jonghyun closely and allowing his mouth to tilt at the ends in approval of his relationship with Kibum.

“So Kibum…” began Taemin casually, adopting an innocent, curious façade despite the sly smirk that seemed to tug at his lips whilst addressing the older boy.

Kibum quirked an eyebrow “Mm?”

Taemin’s smirk only grew wider and his eyes flittered back and forth between Jonghyun and Kibum suggestively. “Are you going to introduce me to your…friend?”

Kibum grinned, oblivious to Taemin’s ulterior motives. He grabbed Jonghyun’s hand out of impulse and gestured extravagantly to the man next to him. “Oh yeah…this is Jonghyun! We met recently and well…He’s kinda my idol.”

Jonghyun and Kibum both chortled at their private joke with identical blushes adorning their faces, neither yet accustomed to the spark which ignited at their physical contact. Taemin’s eyes widened at their now entwined fingers, and if one were to look at him, they would notice the way his eyes glistened in devilry.

Kibum ran his gaze over Minho and Taemin’s astonished expressions before widening his own eyes in belated realization.

“Oh! And Jonghyun, this is Taemin and his friend Minho…”

Taemin nodded his head cutely, as did Minho, adding in a gruff tone, “Jonghyun hyung is my brother’s best friend, we’ve met.”

Jonghyun’s face reddened and Kibum’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape. The younger’s gaze flittered between Minho and Jonghyun questioningly, a million thoughts zooming through his mind like a difficult math equation waiting to be solved.

“Really?! That means…Luna is your sister-in-law!” he exclaimed excitedly after a few seconds of mental calculation, directing his line of sight back to the frog like male.

Minho allowed a small smile to play at his lips, Kibum noting the look of pure joy that crossed his face at her name. “Yeah, Luna’s pretty awesome.”

Kibum grinned, inclining his head in agreement. Out of pure habit, Kibum then shifted his eyes to the clock which hang directly above the fire place, an expression of worry passing over his face hurriedly before adverting back to its prior smile.

Jonghyun, whose gaze had been unintentionally watching Kibum with affection during the past few minutes, picked up on the apprehensive demeanour shrouding the young dancer’s face, and quirked a curious eyebrow at him as their eyes met. Kibum however, merely shook his head, before diverting his stare to Sodam whom had just reappeared via the kitchen.

“How’re you feeling, buddy?” she asked, directing her attention to Taemin who lied draped over Minho’s legs comfortably.

Taemin blinked dazedly at the new arrival, before his eyes lit up in realization and a large smile donned his youthful face. “Much better! Thank you for taking care of me, by the way…I’m sorry for intruding on your home.”

Sodam tutted indignantly, however the slight twitch of her lips contrasted the irate demeanour she currently beheld. “Don’t you dare be sorry, sweetie. If anything like this ever happens again, you’re always welcome to stay here.”

Taemin gnawed on his lower lip in concealed joy, beaming up at Sodam in gratitude. “Thank you.”

Sodam smiled in a motherly manner, eyes scanning over everyone in the room. She nodded to herself in what seemed like satisfaction before she addressed the newly acquainted group.

“Mum was wondering if you would all like to stay for dinner – We’re having chicken.”

Everyone bar Minho’s eyes seemed to light up at that small phrase, shooting each other excited looks at the thought of the delicious meat. Kibum, who still happened to be quite cosy beside Jonghyun on the sofa, gave the older boy a look which seemed to ask for reassurance at the kind offering, raising his eyebrows in questionable doubt. Jonghyun merely smiled widely in confirmation, shrugging his shoulders as if to say ‘it’s fine.’

Taemin, although quite ecstatic at the prospect of chicken, was more so worried about Minho’s reaction, shooting the taller male a look of concern. “You don’t want chicken?” he questioned softly with a pout.

Jonghyun, having heard the youngest boy’s inquiry, snorted in amusement, evoking an irritated glare from Minho. “Knowing Jinki, Minho probably has chicken every day.”

Minho screwed up his face in distaste, rolling his eyes exasperatedly at his older brother’s antics. “Sometimes if Luna’s feeling extra generous it’s more than once a day.” he scoffed.

Minho’s small comment elicited a loud guffaw from the occupants of the room, Sodam feeling enough sympathy to shoot the tall boy an apologetic glance. “Sorry, bud.”

The soccer player merely shrugged in resignation, lips twitching in what Kibum assumed was an attempted smile.  Sodam bounced out of the warm lounge joyfully to relay everything to her mother, the chatter in the room immediately returning at her absence. The group of boys talked adamantly between one another, various topics arising throughout their conversation.

Jonghyun, whom despite was still quite shocked at the events that had occurred that day thus far, was evidently enjoying himself, not often having the chance to chat with other guys around his age. Not going to college nor thriving for social contact didn’t really assist in developing close friendships, however the solitude he usually possessed didn’t bother Jonghyun in the slightest and he was quite content in living the quiet life he currently did.

During their small chat, Jonghyun had found that despite Taemin’s shy and innocent exterior, the youngest male in the room was actually –as Kibum put it– a little shit, often pointing out the puppy-like man’s inferior height and dinosaur resemblances.

“Yah, Taemin! Only I’m allowed to call Jjong a dinosaur!” Kibum had scolded in defence, not helping Jonghyun’s wounded pride in the slightest.

Minho, like usual, had a deadpan expression plastered on his face, nose still screwed up at the prospect of eating chicken yet again. He contributed to their conversation nonetheless, often adding in small comments which stated his opinion on the topic, but never delving further into the discussion.

Jonghyun’s mum eventually finished preparing their food, walking into the lounge with tousled hair and rosy cheeks which exerted a loving, motherly feel. “Dinner’s ready, boys!” she exclaimed joyously, “Minho – I’ve prepared some bibimbap and vegetables so if you don’t feel like chicken you’re welcome to grab as much of that as you’d like.”

Minho smiled kindly in the older woman’s direction, bowing his head slightly in gratitude.

With a mutual feeling of hunger and eagerness, the boys all hopped up relatively quickly and made their way towards the dining room with a bounce in their step; Jonghyun sitting beside Kibum with Taemin and Minho across from the two older males. Sodam was seated to the left of Jonghyun, and their mother sat contently at the head of the smooth, wooden table.

“This is so cute! It’s been so long since our Hyun-ah’s bought some friends over, it feels like a birthday party!” the middle aged woman exclaimed with a large smile as she dished her food onto her plate, inducing the rest of the occupants to follow her lead and do the same.

Jonghyun immediately felt his face heat up at his mother’s comment, purposely ignoring the smirk Kibum shot his way and the slight nudge of the dancer’s elbow.

As soon as the delicious meal landed upon the taste buds of the group, they began praising Jonghyun’s mum’s cooking with wide, elated smiles. Her face tinged slightly red, however she brushed off their compliments humbly with a small ‘thanks’ and a shy smile.

The overall atmosphere floating throughout the room was a happy one, Kibum feeling quite joyous and excited at the complete contrast Jonghyun’s home held to his own. It wasn’t often he ate dinner with his parents, however when Kibum somehow did get the chance it usually wasn’t an affair filled with sunshine and butterflies, topic usually drifting to studies, girls and his future at one point or another. And Kibum wouldn’t mind talking about those things if it wasn’t for the fact that the future his parents saw for him was not one in which he wanted personally, not to mention that Kibum wasn’t interested in girls. At all. So this warm change of surroundings was quite welcomed in his eyes, taking in as much information and memories as he possibly could of the older boy and his life which seemed so much superior to Kibum’s.

Kibum, although quite deep in thought at this point whilst he chewed on his tender chicken, was knocked out of his reverie by the mention of his name.

“—where did you and Kibum meet?” Sodam had questioned with vast curiosity, Jonghyun seemingly glaring in her direction at the subtle attempt to learn more about her younger brother’s crush.

Kibum blinked in slight confusion, but answered her question politely nonetheless. “Hm? Oh, Jonghyun and I met at the bar he sings at. I started going when I saw these posters around town advertising it.”

Sodam smiled in satisfaction, however her inquisitive expression suggested that she yearned to know more. “He is a great singer, isn’t he? How about you, Kibum? What are you interested in?”

Kibum glowed at the attention, and quickly finished the piece of chicken which currently resided in his mouth. “I really enjoy dancing and fashion design.” he replied proudly, allowing an endearing smile to etch across his lips.

“Well you are quite fashionable! What university do you go to, Kibum?” added Jonghyun’s mother interestedly in question, resting her chin on her palm in fascination.

Kibum blinked confusedly.

‘University?’

“Oh no, I’m still in high school Mrs Kim.”

Sodam and Jonghyun’s mother blanched, heads immediately whipping to gape at Jonghyun inquisitively. Kibum and Jonghyun’s cheeks flushed crimson at the mere look upon the women’s faces, both feeling the desire to defend themselves.

“But I’m in my last year! I’m already 19.” spoke Kibum hastily, Jonghyun nodding in a way that looked as though he was attempting to reassure himself.

The older woman’s dumbfounded expression slowly transformed into an understanding grin, and she chose to ignore the pointed look of cheek that Sodam was directing at her. “Oh, that’s quite alright, dear. I just assumed you were in college, but now that I look closely, you do seem quite young.”

Sodam seemingly couldn’t remain quiet any longer, her current knowledge of Jonghyun’s crush preventing her from ignoring the situation before her eyes. She rolled her eyes playfully, cocking a dubious eyebrow in their mother’s direction.  “C’mon mum, just look at how young Taemin looks! There’s no way they’re in uni,”

Taemin’s eyes lifted in surprise at the mention of his own name, however it wasn’t that part of Sodam’s comment which caught his attention. The young woman continued, despite the amusing effort made by Jonghyun’s mother to defend her assumptions.

“—and don’t worry Hyun-ah. I think you dating a high schooler makes it extra adorable!”

Everyone bar Sodam’s eyes bugged at her remark, Jonghyun in particular glaring in disbelief at her careless tongue. Kibum rose an astonished yet curious eyebrow, blushing profusely at the knowing looks he was receiving from Taemin.

‘I’m not even dating Jonghyun! What is everyone on about? I swear I’m the only sane one remaining…’

Jonghyun coughed awkwardly, shyly shooting Kibum an apologetic glance from the corner of his eye.

“Sodam…Could you please shut your mouth for at least a second? Kibum and I are just friends, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t embarrass us any further.” Jonghyun spoke firmly, ignoring the clench of his heart at his scathing, yet truthful words.

Kibum didn’t understand why it pained him so much to hear those words spilling from Jonghyun’s mouth, but it did. It wasn’t even as though the two were actually dating, let alone Jonghyun liking Kibum in that way at all, so he should have expected such a defensive remark from the singer, yet he could still feel his mood damper considerably at Jonghyun’s exclamation.

“Geez, sorry guys…it was just a joke.” apologized Sodam softly, not missing the crestfallen expression on Kibum’s face.

She smiled inwardly despite the circumstances.

‘Perhaps Jonghyun does have a chance with Kibum after all…”

Taemin’s mind at this point was confused beyond comprehension. This whole time he had thought that Kibum really was dating Jonghyun…but for the singer to deny it so defensively? It really didn’t make sense to Taemin. Had they really not been dating this whole time? Or were the two just keeping their relationship a secret from everyone? Judging by the look upon Kibum’s face at that moment however, he knew there was a deeper meaning behind it all. Taemin shook his head to rid himself of his puzzling thoughts, assuring himself that he’d figure it out later on.

An awkward, uncomfortable chill had engulfed the room, so quiet that you could hear the clatter of cutlery against plates. Jonghyun chewed on his chicken half-heartedly, regret filling his stomach at his previous words instead of the delicious, white meat. Jonghyun’s mother attempted to ignore the stifling silence, starting a new conversation when that proved to be fruitless.

“So Minho, how are Luna and Jinki? Still on a romantic high, I’m guessing.”

Everyone seemed to sigh in relief at the change of topic, Minho allowing a slight chuckle to escape his lips. “Most definitely. It’s suffocating sometimes, really. But they’re in love, so who am I to rain on their parade?”

Taemin grinned, and the women seemed to be fangirling over Minho’s response. “That’s so adorable! You might be an uncle soon, Minho…watch out!”

The tall boy spluttered, waving his hands in front of him defensively. “Oh please, I’d rather not think about that.” he spoke, eliciting a wave of laughter from the table’s occupants.

“To be honest, I haven’t seen Jinki in a while! Tell him I want to catch up, won’t you?” added Jonghyun as an afterthought, a tone of amusement still lacing his voice.

Minho nodded in agreement, a rare, joyous smile etched onto his handsome face.

For the next half hour or so, the conversation ran smoothly, an abundance of different topics being brought up despite the small amount of time. They talked about Sodam’s time in medical school, Minho’s dreams to play soccer in England, Key and Taemin’s previous ‘rivalry’ and even how Jonghyun came to start singing at the bar. Light chuckles and loud voices cascaded throughout the room, rebounding off the warm furniture and enveloping everyone in a snug, comfortable glow. It was a welcome contrast to the previous atmosphere, however the time ticked by quickly and Taemin soon received a text from his parents requesting he return home.

Minho and Taemin left for the soccer player’s car with a friendly wave, but not before Taemin bowed deeply in gratitude at the two women for their hospitality and thanked them for their services.

“Any time, dear.” Jonghyun’s mother had replied, bidding the two farewell with a final reminder to take care of themselves.

After the two younger boys had made their way home, Jonghyun’s mother and Sodam had left the dining room with plates in hand, off to wash the dirty dishes. Jonghyun and Kibum were left alone, the awkward silence returning once more at the lack of people. Jonghyun licked his lips and wrung his hands in his lap, looking at Kibum shyly through his short lashes.

“I’m sorry for what I said before.” he apologized suddenly.

Kibum blinked in astonishment, lifting his own gaze to lock eyes with Jonghyun. “Why are you apolo—“

“I know it was really harsh and came off as a bit rude…but I swear I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, Sodam always assumes things and embarrasses me, and I didn’t want her to scare you off by saying all that stuff.” Jonghyun interrupted, speaking quickly so as to say everything he wanted to without Kibum cutting him off.

Kibum remained silent as Jonghyun spoke, seemingly stoic yet inwardly melting at the older male’s mini speech and puppy dog eyes. How did he ever believe he could stay angry at this beautiful man?

“Jjong…don’t worry.” Kibum reassured, smiling softly and grabbing Jonghyun’s hand to interlace with his own. “I really don’t mind, alright? Unlike popular belief, I do in fact have a sense of humour.”

Jonghyun snorted, and ran his thumb over Kibum’s hand in relief. “You do, and it’s quite funny.”

Kibum poked his tongue out teasingly. “Why, thank you kind sir.”

“It’s an honour, my prince.”

The two laughed heartily at their own stupid antics and joked around some more, before Jonghyun eventually stood up and offered Kibum a beer from the fridge. Kibum nodded in agreement, and checked the time on his phone nervously with a sigh as Jonghyun sat back down.

“Something wrong?” he questioned.

Kibum looked up from his phone screen with furrowed brows, taking the beer can tentatively out of Jonghyun’s hand and pulling it open with a light fizz. “It’s pretty late…I have school tomorrow but I really don’t want to go home. My parents are going to kill me.”

Jonghyun took a glance at the clock, and hummed in agreement. “What time do your parents leave for work in the morning?”

Kibum looked in thought for a few seconds, before replying, “Around five.”

Jonghyun nodded, and small smile flittered onto his face as though he had just thought of something pleasant. “Perfect. You could sleep here tonight, and then tomorrow morning I’ll drive you to your house so you can get changed and stuff.”

Kibum gaped at Jonghyun’s generosity, abandoning his beer on the wooden table before moving forward to wrap the singer in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, unknowingly causing chills to run down the older boy’s spine.

“N-no worries.” replied Jonghyun, smiling widely into the hug and wrapping his own arms around Kibum’s waist.

The two lingered in the hug for what was probably deemed too long for just ‘friends’, however they chose to ignore that fact and pulled apart reluctantly after a minute or so. They made their way back over to the couch and practically fell onto its soft cushions unceremoniously, Jonghyun turning on the television and gesturing for Kibum to lean against his shoulder. ­­­Kibum, albeit hesitantly, shuffled over to do exactly that, leaning on Jonghyun’s arm stiffly with his can gripped awkwardly between his hands.

Jonghyun giggled at Kibum’s obvious discomfort before placing his own drink beside him and adjusting their position so Kibum’s head laid cosily across his thighs. Kibum rolled onto his side so he was facing the television, however it was obvious to see he was attempting to cover his embarrassed blush from the singer. Jonghyun smiled fondly down at the young boy, wondering how on earth he had managed to befriend such a beautiful, caring, and funny boy. He unconsciously began to run his hand through Kibum’s luscious locks, the younger boy closing his eyes in pleasure and purring softly at the calming gesture.

Jonghyun didn’t know how long he sat there, casually smoothing his fingers through the younger’s hair, but soon he could hear the deep, even breaths coming from Kibum’s form and grinned in affection. The rising and falling of Kibum’s chest and the ticking of the clock eventually lolled Jonghyun himself to sleep, head falling back in exhaustion with the sight of Kibum’s beautiful, sleeping face etched into his mind seeming more at peace than ever.

[sheenawilde]

Whatever I said - Chapter 5

You can also read it on AO3.

Only when Robbie could already see Heathrow from the taxi did he pull out his phone and dialed Ayda’s number. He wanted to have some distance, some breathing space between himself and Gary before he could think about his life he was going back to. Even if it was the right thing to do, what he knew he’ll be glad for choosing – he needed to clear his head of the memories of the past few blissful days he had spent with Gary.

“Hi, Robbie” he heard Ayda’s voice over the phone. It sounded tired and somewhat tentative, even if she tried to cover up for it.

“Hey, hon. Were you asleep? I didn’t wake up you, did I?” Robbie asked a bit worried, calculating to LA time. It was about 1 am. Oh, he hated time zones.

“I was just dozing in front of the TV. It doesn’t matter” she replied dismissingly. “What’s up?”

“I’m- I’m almost at Heathrow, my flight home is in an hour” he started with the important part, just to get over with it and to calm Ayda. He knew she wanted to know that first, anyway.

“That’s – that’s good, you’ll be here today then” Ayda said and sounded honestly surprised. Robbie guessed that would be fair, after how he had just left on an impulse…

“Yeah, at about one in the afternoon. Josie has already arranged everything, so you don’t have to come and get me. I don’t want to attract attention, and anyway, I want to sleep when I get home, so we’ll talk after I get my beauty sleep” he tried to joke, hoping that he could actually convince her not to greet him at the airport – as sweet as that usually was, he didn’t want to meet her fresh at arrival. He knew he would need a shower in his own house, a fresh change of clothes and a few hours of refreshment to be able to face her. He hoped that the trip home and that rest would make the past week more of a memory than it felt now, because he didn’t intend to mope in front of Ayda… He was sure of his decision but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sad. He missed Gary already, especially that he knew he had just destroyed every remaining hope for their friendship…

“Alright, if that’s what you want” Ayda agreed without another word, fortunately, and that made Robbie sigh in relief.

“Good. Then… Then see you later?” he asked, trying to sound cheerful and hoped that he didn’t sound too ridiculous with this failed attempt.

“Sure, darling. Have a nice flight!” Ayda told him before she hung up.

Robbie felt like he didn’t have the right for anything nice.

After the taxi dropped him off and he managed to find his gate which wasn’t open yet, he searched for his seat that was secluded enough so he wouldn’t be bothered or recognized. With nothing else to do, he grabbed his phone to check his messages. He was afraid of what he might have received but he had to face Mark’s wrath eventually… There weren’t any messages yet, and now that he thought about it, Gary wasn’t really the one to start dumping his feelings on someone at the first opportunity he got… He decided that if he didn’t hear anything from either of them until the next day, he’d call Mark.

The flight back was worse than anything. There was nothing to keep his thoughts occupied except for the past few days, the past few hours, the guilt he felt for being so selfish, for practically using Gary, for doing what he was told a hundreds of times not to do… He was horrible. He ended up where he had started from, with the only thing he accomplished being breaking Gary’s heart. Spending ten hours with these thoughts wasn’t exactly a pleasure, but he supposed this was the least he deserved.

As the plane landed at LAX, he immediately searched for the taxi that was waiting for him. He didn’t want to draw much attention to himself, the last thing he needed was fucking paparazzi catching him in this state of mind. In the end he might do something he’d later regret, so yeah, avoiding a run-in would be for the best. But fortunately he managed to find the taxi pretty fast, so he jumped in and closed his eyes while they were driving home. He had tried to sleep on the plane but couldn’t really, and ten hours of squirming in the seat had worn him off. He just wanted to get home, get into bed and sleep off the jetlag and, hopefully, his bad mood.

When the car finally pulled up to his house, he felt as exhausted as possible. He really only wanted to get into bed and sleep till the next day. He walked in the house, peeking into the living room to see if Ayda was there, but the room was empty. However much he wanted to go straight to bed, he had to greet her first. So he walked out to the garden, finding her reading a magazine while sitting in a chair on the terrace. Their son was lying in a crib next to her and their daughter was playing with some toys in the grass.

“Hi, honey” Robbie called out for her silently, not wanting to wake their son if he was asleep.

“Oh, hi, Rob” Ayda smiled as she turned towards him in her chair, resting her magazine in her lap. “How was your flight?”

“Tiring. I want to go straight to sleep. Just thought I’d say hi” Robbie smiled at her, then suppressed a yawn.

“Alright, go ahead. We’ll talk when you wake up” she nodded at that, and raised her magazine again.

“Okay, bye, hon” Robbie nodded too, then went back into the house.

He dragged himself inside and up to the bedroom, stripped to his underwear, and slipped into the bed. Despite being so tired, despite being home, despite knowing they’d had an agreement with Gary, he felt the guilt hard and heavy inside him. Sleep was a safe haven from it that he didn’t feel he deserved. This thought – and his memories of the previous days – kept him awake, tossing and turning in the bed for at least an hour before he finally fell asleep.

Robbie awoke sometime around noon. He knew immediately, without checking a clock because of the bright light that was shining in the windows, flooding the room. He lay there for a good few minutes, just staring into nothingness, still not quite awake before he could find it in himself to sit up. A shower was very much need, he decided, because he felt sweaty and smelly and just overall uncomfortable. So he headed to the bathroom and soaked under the hot running water for at least twenty minutes, as if trying to wash away the past week. After he was ready and dressed, he headed downstairs to face Ayda.

Robbie found her in the living room, lying on the couch and reading a book.

“Hey” he said with a small smile as he stopped in the doorway for a moment, then walked in, choosing an armchair for himself to sprawl out in.

“Hi, honey” Ayda looked up, smiling back at him and lowered the book to her lap. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, slept like a log. These long flights always tire me” Robbie answered, leaning his head against the backrest and closed his eyes. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re sleeping, it’s their afternoon nap” Ayda said with a fond smile on her lips.

“Ah, right. That’s good. A little peace and quiet then” Robbie smirked, at which Ayda chuckled and shook her head. “Why? You’ve been home alone with them, don’t tell me you’re not enjoying a little break!”

“I didn’t say that!” Ayda protested jokingly, still laughing. Silence settled between them and their smiles slowly died down as the certain elephant in the room emerged in their thoughts. They knew the other was thinking about that, too, it wasn’t too hard to figure out. “How are you?” Ayda asked finally in a soft voice.

“Good” Robbie shrugged, then dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. “I’ll cope. I don’t feel like I should be the one to whine.”

“Rob…” Ayda started gently, but Robbie didn’t let her finish.

“No, it’s alright. I know this” he shook his head, still refusing to look up at her. “I just disappeared without a word and did what I did. Jesus, if anything, you should be shouting with me!”

“Well, I’m not, and I won’t” she declared strictly, then after a few moments continued in a gentler tone. “If you want to talk about it…”

“No. It’s- It’s over there, it ended over there and I’m here. I just- If you are not angry at me, then I want to leave the distance where it is” he said quickly. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Gary with his wife. Not that Ayda wouldn’t be understanding, but it was just wrong. “I’m in for a scolding from Mark anyway. I seriously fear for my life” he said humorlessly, staring into the air with a somber look on his face.

Ayda was silent after that – she didn’t know what to tell him. Robbie didn’t blame her, it was a horribly awkward situation he had put themselves. That was exactly why he didn’t want to discuss it any further. If he wanted to keep his marriage as good as it had been until now, then there shouldn’t be awkward silences. They never had those, they could always talk about something, even if it was only meaningless and utterly stupid joking around. He wanted his marriage alive.

Robbie wished he didn’t sound like he was trying to convince himself.

As the day progressed, his mood got better. Having his wonderful children around again was amazing, he missed them so much. It at least distracted him if nothing else, as he had to watch his daughter move around and had to change the nappies his son used, then they prepared a snack for them, then it was playtime again and then dinner and sleep time… It was a busy day, always keeping Rob occupied, so he didn’t really have time to worry, only when it was already evening.

When he and Ayda decided to turn in for the night, he grabbed his laptop and lay down on the bed, putting it in his lap. First thing first, he knew he had to check his messages. So he opened his email account, somewhat dreading what he would find.

It was a short email from Mark, only saying ‘Call me’. That was bad. Really, really bad.

Robbie looked at his clock. It showed 11 pm, so plus eight hours… It meant it was 7 am in London. Quite a reasonable time to call. He had called Mark in more inappropriate hours without a second thought, and anyway, they were always mocking him how he didn’t wake up ‘in time’. It shouldn’t be that early then.

“Honey, I have to call Mark” he turned to Ayda, who was reading beside him in the bed, as he closed his laptop and put it aside, then reached for his phone. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, so you don’t have to wait for me. And I’ll try to be silent.”

“Alright. I’ll just read for a few more minutes” Ayda nodded and decided not to make any comment. She saw how Robbie wasn’t quite there whole day, how he focused on the kids to not let it show through… Ayda knew that all she could do now was to wait and be there if needed.

Robbie smiled at her, then went out of the room, hurrying downstairs, so he would be far enough from the kids’ room not to wake them up accidentally. He sat down at the couch, stared at his phone for a few moments, then took a deep breath and dialed.

“Hey, Mark” he said slowly when the other picked up.

“Rob” Mark replied coolly, then silence settled in between them.

“I take it you have talked to Gary?” Robbie asked anxiously, afraid of both the answer and Mark.

“Yes” Mark said, his voice even colder and that was answer enough in itself for Robbie’s next question. Not that he would have needed to have it spelled out.

“How is he?”

“What do you think?” Mark said and he sounded very angry. When Robbie didn’t say anything to that, he continued. “What do you expect me to say? I warned you. And Gary, too. I don’t think I have anything else to add. He was an idiot, too, I told him as much when he called me in the middle of the night and I went over to him. But you… You have your wife, your family with you, it was easier for you to take it all back… So I might be a bit more pissed at you.”

“I know. I didn’t… You know that I didn’t want Gaz to be hurt… I just…” Robbie tried to gather his thoughts, to formulate an answer, something, anything in his defense…

“You just weren’t thinking” Mark finished instead of him. He sighed before continuing. “Look, just… I don’t know what to tell to you. I think you should just avoid Gary for a while. It should be easy with you over there. And… despite everything, don’t torture yourself. He agreed to it. Believe me, I’m going to scold him, too, when he… when he doesn’t look suicidal.”

“Alright… Thanks” Robbie mumbled into the phone while he stared into the darkness outside.

“I’ll go now. I want to sleep while he’s sleeping, too, so I can be awake with him” Mark said, and his voice did sound very tired.

“Yeah, sure. Then… write me if you need anything… or if something happens” Robbie said silently, not quite knowing what to say. Mark would understand that he meant – if Gary got any worse than that.

“I will. Good night” Mark promised, then hung up.

Robbie just stayed sitting there, staring out the window with his phone still beside his ear. Then slowly, he dropped it to the carpet, and curled up. His stomach felt heavy with guilt, his thoughts and emotions were rushing through him and he could hardly keep up with himself. He didn’t go back to the bedroom to Ayda, somewhere in the middle of his self-pity, he fell asleep on the couch.

Robbie woke up there in the morning, with the only change being that his phone was now on the table and there was a blanket carefully laid over him. It must have been Ayda, he thought to himself as he slowly sat up, wincing as he straightened his back. It hurt like a bitch – spending the night on a couch above forty wasn’t a wise decision. He really should remember that, even when he was upset…

Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and started walking towards the kitchen as he heard noises coming from that direction. He hadn’t checked what time it was, but it must have been breakfast time. He had to get ready for acting like nothing happened, for playing the earlier version of himself that hadn’t gotten into this mess. He used to be good at hiding his emotions, but he never had to do that beside Ayda. It looked like he had to see if he could still do it.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

[miraculouspaon]

Where Have All The Heroes Gone And Where Are All The Gods?

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Louis

AO3

Louis opened his eyes. “Found her,” he said. Dani and his grandparents, who had been waiting for over an hour at this point, all started when he spoke.

“So she is at Henri’s house?” Dani asked, leaning forward from her position on the couch.

“I think so,” Louis said. “I still don’t have a great handle on matching energy locations with physical ones, though.”

“Is she hurt?” Adele asked. She’d been pacing around the room during Louis’ trance, but she’d hurried to his side the second he’d broken the tense silence of the room.

Louis hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes,” he told his grandmother. “Yes, she is. Whatever they hit her with ripped into her energy directly. It’s a wonder she was able to teleport away at all. I think I can fix it, though. Tomorrow morning.”

“Why wait?” Dani asked. “Who cares about curfew, let’s just transform and take the rooftops over. I shouldn’t have any trouble avoiding Order guards as Mariposa.”

Louis shook his head. “Henri’s family is risking enough as it is,” he said. “They don’t need two superheroes coming in through the front door. All it would take would be the wrong neighbor looking out their window at the wrong time, and your powers can’t anticipate something like that. Emma would never forgive us if we got Henri’s family arrested.”

Dani sighed. “You’re right,” she said, somewhat begrudgingly.

“You’re quite certain your sister will be alright waiting until tomorrow morning?” Louis’ grandfather asked. He was on the far side of the room, standing rigidly near a large window, his hands clasped behind his back. Dani and Adele were both giving him somewhat nervous glances from time to time. Louis got the distinct impression that despite outward appearances, Gabriel’s emotional state was uncharacteristically turbulent.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I can heal her at Henri’s house tomorrow morning. She’s asleep now, I think. She’ll be okay tonight.”

Gabriel nodded curtly. “Very well,” he said. “In that case, either your grandmother or myself will drive you over. I’m sure we’d all like to go, but all four of us driving over together might look suspicious, so-”

“Dibs,” Adele interrupted. Louis and Dani might have laughed at the childishness of this if things weren’t so serious, if their grandmother hadn’t looked so worried. She’d gone back to pacing, and was now biting a nail.

“Fine,” her husband replied. He glanced at the clock on the room’s mantlepiece. “It’s getting late. Louis, you should get some rest. You’ll need to get up earlier than usual, and be at your best for healing.”

Louis nodded and got up. His grandmother intercepted him on his way out, pulling him into a much tighter hug than usual and kissing the top of his head. “Goodnight, Louis,” she whispered. “I love you very much, you know that, right?”

“Of course, Grandma. We all know that. We love you, too.”

Louis made his way upstairs, but instead of going to the bedroom he walked past it and entered the small sitting room he’d mostly taken over, for meditation and other Guardian-related training activities. Wayzz emerged from hiding as they entered, floating in front of Louis.

“Could you see her?” Louis asked. “The way I could?”

Wayzz nodded. “Your assessment of her condition was accurate,” the kwami said. “She will be quite alright waiting until the morning.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheek. “You haven’t taught me how to heal damage like that,” he said nervously.

“You’ve learned some of what you need to know,” Wayzz replied. “The rest I can teach you tonight.”

“Good,” Louis said. “Let’s start.”

~~~

Louis and his grandmother didn’t talk much on the drive over to the Lavillant-Couffaine house the next morning. Adele drove with an intense focus, and she clutched the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. Louis’ abilities didn’t overlap with Dani’s at all, so he couldn’t actually sense what she was feeling now, but he could see her energy, her aura, and that told him quite clearly that his grandmother was inclined to blame herself for a lot of things.

“Emma’s going to be fine,” Louis told her.

Adele nodded. “Of course she is, sweetheart,” she said, reaching over and patting his knee. Louis supposed she’d misinterpreted his attempt at offering comfort as a bid for it instead.

Then again, Louis thought, maybe she hadn’t misinterpreted anything at all. She was an empath, after all.

Fifteen minutes after curfew had ended, they’d parked and were walking up to the front door, Louis lugging a backpack filled with everything he’d need. Juleka answered the door, with Henri standing close behind her.

“Hi, Ms. Couffaine,” Louis said. “Hi, Henri.” Henri nodded at him as his mother ushered Louis and his grandmother inside.

“You must be Adrien’s mother,” Juleka said as they entered. “It’s nice to-”

The second Juleka closed the front door, Adele burst into tears. Louis and Henri watched, somewhat awkwardly, as Juleka immediately grabbed a box of tissues from a nearby table and offered them, while putting her other arm comfortingly around Adele’s shoulders.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Adele said, “I just-you can’t understand what it’s been like, after losing their parents-I’ve just been so terrified of something like this happening, I don’t know how I’m going to-”

“Shh, it’s okay. Emma’s fine, I promise,” Juleka told her. Adele wiped at her eyes uselessly.

“I’m a mess, aren’t I? I can’t see Emma like this, she’s been through enough already without me-”

“It’s fine, Grandma,” Louis interrupted. “I should go in alone first anyway, I’ve got a lot of healing stuff to do.”

“Come into the kitchen, I’ll make tea,” Juleka said, leading Adele away. Louis looked up at Henri once they were gone.

“Sorry,” he said. “My grandmother’s kind of an easy crier even when her grandkids aren’t, you know, almost dying.”

“It’s fine,” Henri said. “Mama’s an easy crier, too. Mom’s a natural at dealing with it by now.”

Louis nodded. “So… what really happened?”

“Um…” Henri started walking down the hallway, and Louis followed him. “Your sister appeared in here,” Henri said, pointing into the living room. “I’m not sure where, exactly, because we were all in the kitchen, but somewhere above the coffee table is my guess, ‘cause she was unconscious in the middle of it when we found her.”

“Oh. Jeez. Sorry about that,” Louis said, looking at the broken pieces of the table. “I bet my grandparents could replace it, if-”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom was looking for an excuse to get a new one. Anyway, we brought her into my room so Mama could examine her, and that’s about when her transformation dropped and we realized she was, you know, Emma. So Mom called your grandparents, Mama bandaged up Emma’s side and gave her a couple of painkillers, and she’s mostly been asleep since then. She woke up about an hour ago.”

Louis nodded, then hugged Henri impulsively. “Thanks,” he said.

“Oh, sure,” Henri said, somewhat sheepishly, as Louis pulled away. “I’d do anything for Emma-I mean we’d do anything for Emma. Or any of you guys. I told you that on the first day of school. Anything you need.”

Louis snorted. “This isn’t exactly what you thought you were signing up for, I’m guessing.”

“No, but…” Henri shrugged, “I mean, after everything you and your sisters have done for Paris, it doesn’t really compare, does it?”

“Oh,” Louis said, his face falling slightly. “So… did Emma say…”

“Oh, yeah, she was pretty talkative at one point, after the painkillers kicked in,” Henri said, somewhat apologetically. “She mentioned you and Dani being her partners.”

“Did she say anything else?” Louis asked, trying and failing to keep his voice casual.

“Yeah, she said something about your grandmother being a superhero, too. I didn’t really follow most of it. Sorry. If I’d known she was gonna spill all your family secrets I wouldn’t have stayed up with her, but I didn’t want her to panic if she woke up alone in a strange place.” Louis gave Henri a funny look. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Louis said, thinking that it was somewhat refreshing Henri thought that might actually be all their family secrets. “So which room is Emma in?”

“Oh, right. Here.” Henri led Louis a bit further down the hallway and opened a door. Emma waved at him from the bed.

“Hi,” Emma said as they entered, trying to sound casual but mostly still just sounding weak.

“Jesus, you look terrible,” Louis said instantly.

“What? No she doesn’t-no, you don’t,” Henri assured her indignantly. Emma smiled.

“I’m guessing Louis is talking about something only he can see,” Emma said. She looked at her brother. “Louis, I get that you have a lot more to learn than me and Dani, but maybe you should consider skipping ahead a few lessons to the one on bedside manner?”

“Sorry,” Louis said. “I just… haven’t seen anything like this. It caught me off-guard. It’s fine, I’ll fix it.” Louis turned to Henri. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got some stuff to do and I’d rather not have an audience for it.”

“Right, right,” Henri said. He looked back at Emma. “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

“Thanks,” she said, and he left. Emma looked back at Louis as he shut the door. “You gonna yell at me?” she asked, sinking back into the pillow.

“Nah,” Louis said. “You’ll get enough of that from everyone else in the family, I’m sure.” He started pulling stuff out of his bag. “Although maybe they’ll give you a break if it was some kind of Order trick. Was it?”

Emma shook her head gently. “I doubt it,” she said. “I was just… ever since you insisted on limiting my teleporting, I can’t stop wondering how many people are going to die before this is over. People who wouldn’t have died if I could have kept up.”

“That’s not your fault,” Louis said.

“I know that,” Emma said. Her voice was detached, unemotional. “But some people are going to die who wouldn’t have. That’s just numbers.” She sighed. “Anyway, I knew I was probably just seeing things, but there was that sliver of a chance that I’d left somebody behind, and I couldn’t stand it. It was dumb. It won’t happen again.”

Louis nodded. “Can I, um, see the wound? I mean, I can see it,” he gestured vaguely to the air above Emma’s side, “but I need to see it physically, too.”

Wordlessly, Emma pushed the blankets down and pulled her tee shirt up a few inches. “Henri’s mom patched it up,” she explained, as she pulled the bandage off.

“She did a good job,” Louis said. He pulled a small pointed pendulum out of his bag and began swinging it gently over Emma. It tugged insistently towards the burn, in defiance of physics, every time it passed over her.

“Is that good or bad?” Emma asked, eyeing the pendulum suspiciously. Louis shrugged.

“Could be worse,” he said evasively. “Can I see your pendant? The one you got from Grandma Sabine’s attic?”

“Huh? Oh, right. I forgot about that.” Emma pulled the necklace out from under her shirt, then gasped. The wooden pendant, with Emma’s Chinese name carved into it, was burned solid black, and a large crack ran down its length. “Jeez, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Louis said calmly. “It did its job.” Emma pulled it off and handed it to him. “It wasn’t really able to absorb too much of the hit,” he continued, “but who knows. You might not have been able to teleport at all if you hadn’t been wearing this. Oh, that reminds me, did you come here intentionally? Or was it just the dumbest luck imaginable? I need to know just how busted your powers are.”

Emma’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “I was trying to go home,” she said, “but I don’t think it was entirely random. Henri kind of popped into my head, right before I managed to get out. It’s not like I haven’t been distracted while teleporting before, though. This is the first time the destination’s been affected.”

“This place is a lot closer to the station than ours is,” Louis said, putting the pendulum away. “Maybe Rajji couldn’t get you all the way home and this was the best she could do. Speaking of, where is Rajji?”

Sighing, Emma reached inside a pocket and pulled the kwami out. “She won’t wake up,” Emma said.

Louis gently picked Rajji up. “She’ll be fine, too,” he promised his sister. “Right, Wayzz?”

Wayzz flew out of one of Louis’ many pockets and hovered over his fellow kwami. “She will,” he said. He looked up at Louis. “It would be better if they were healed together.” Nodding, Louis placed Rajji on Emma’s chest, over her heart. He then started pulling more things out of his bag, stones and bowls and bags of herbs, and all manner of odd-looking trinkets.

“Is this going to take long?” Emma asked.

“Yes.” Louis looked over at his sister. “You could take another painkiller, if you need to.”

“No thanks,” Emma said. “My memories of last night are a little fuzzy, but they're clear enough to know that me and painkillers apparently do not mix.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, as he got back to work setting everything up. “Henri mentioned that.”

Emma’s cheeks turned pink again. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It's okay. We’ll figure it out. Maybe they’ll agree to some kind of memory wipe, or-”

“What? Don't you dare even ask, Louis,” Emma said, suddenly angry.

Louis blinked, confused. “Why not? I understand why you like Henri knowing, but-”

“That is so not it,” Emma said indignantly.

“Then why-”

“Aren't memory spells how the Order deals with problems?”

For a moment, Louis was speechless. “That's not fair,” he said. “This wouldn't be anything like what the Order did to Mom and Dad. It would just rewrite one night, it wouldn't take anything important away from them.”

“You… you think last night wasn't important? One of the most wanted people in the city appeared out of thin air in their living room, unconscious, completely helpless. And they immediately, without question, began to do everything they could to help. Before they even knew it was somebody they cared about. Knowing full well it was an executable offense. And you think that's not important.”

“I-”

“You know I looked up all the akuma victims from 2016, after our first mission,” Emma continued. “Dani asked me to, she wanted to know in advance who else might be immune to her powers, like Aunt Alya. Both of Henri’s moms were akumatized back then, did you know that?”

“No, I-”

“Well, they were. They were forced to be villains. They can't ever be Champions. But last night, they got to be heroes anyway. And they did that all on their own. That means something, Louis. You can't just take it away.”

Louis kept setting everything up, not looking Emma in the eye. “You’re acting like I want to take it away from them,” he said defensively. “I don't, I just want to be safe, that's all.”

“Well, I felt really safe last night,” Emma said. “I feel really safe knowing good people like Ms. Lavillant and Ms. Couffaine want to help us, want to look out for us. Isn’t that safer than secrecy?”

Louis sighed. “It's not that simple. Civilians knowing is a bad idea. Even well-intentioned civilians. Paris learned that lesson the hard way thirty years ago.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Is that really the lesson you want to take away? Sure, if Grandma had never told Uncle Jonathan about her Miraculous, he never would have become Hawkmoth. But there’s a million other things that led to it, too. It was a really complicated, messed-up situation. And Uncle Jonathan helped Grandma and Grandfather for years before it was an issue. If the result of last night is that Henri’s family is incredibly helpful and we take down the Order, and then in twenty years it comes back to bite us, honestly? I’d take that deal.”

“Yeah, well, twenty years isn’t as long for me as it is for you,” Louis muttered. Emma rolled her eyes again. “Okay, yes, I see your point, but… well, ‘telling civilians is a bad idea’ is the lesson that the last Guardian took from the Hawkmoth situation, and he knew a lot more about being the Guardian than I do.”

Emma sighed. She began to gently stroke her sleeping kwami with her index finger as Louis continued to work. “Can I say something? Bluntly?” she asked.

Louis’ eyes widened. “This isn’t you being blunt already?”

“Ha ha. Point taken.” Emma took a breath and paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Louis… I get that your job is a lot harder than mine or Dani’s is. A lot more intimidating, a lot scarier. Being the Guardian isn’t like being any other Miraculous holder. It probably takes years to really master, maybe decades. And you got it dumped on you in the middle of the biggest crisis in living memory, with no experience whatsoever. And the last Guardian had two centuries’ worth of experience. So it makes sense that you’d want to do what he’d do, stick with his decisions, trust in his wisdom. But… Louis, if the last Guardian were the right Guardian for this, he wouldn’t have passed his Miraculous on to you. He gave it to you because he thought you could be better. Trust that. Be better. Make your own decisions, decide for yourself what still works and what needs to be changed. You know?”

Louis kept working, and after a few minutes Emma stopped expecting a response. But eventually, he broke the silence. “I’ll… I won’t say anything. About memory spells or whatever.”

Emma smiled. “Thanks.”

~~~

“That should do it,” Louis said, over an hour later. Emma had dozed off slightly, and she shook herself awake, then immediately looked at the kwami still lying on her chest.

“Rajji?” Rajji’s eyes opened slowly, and then she flew up rapidly towards Emma’s face.

“You’re okay!” Rajji exclaimed, crying as she hugged Emma’s cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You’re okay too, right?” Rajji nodded, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m really sorry, Rajji, I didn’t mean to get you hurt.” She pet Rajji’s head gently.

“Can you sit up?” Louis asked his sister. Emma slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.” Emma pulled her shirt up and looked at where the burn had been; only a very faint scar remained. “Wow, you’re getting really good at this stuff, huh?” She traced a finger over the scar lightly. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.” Louis offered his sister a hand and helped her to her feet. “Still feeling okay?” Emma nodded, and they left the room. They made it about three steps down the hallway before their grandmother appeared at the other end, from the kitchen. She closed the distance between them in seconds, rushing towards them and pulling Emma into a fierce embrace.

“You can’t do that, Emma!” Adele said. Then, much more quietly, in the quietest of whispers, “God, what would I have told your mother? If you’d-” she cut herself off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbled. “I was just trying to be a good hero.”

Adele sighed and kissed her granddaughter’s forehead. “I know, sweetheart, I know.”

[ellebeebee]

2.537

Part Five

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Phrixus Jaril, 13, moves to the Citadel at a delicate age: namely, the peak of his teenage angst. He doesn’t expect much from these rich Citadel kids. But then he meets the Ryder twins, and all their friends, and realizes that he may have been a wee bit wrong about things. His relationship with Mira Ryder evolves over the years, and he never expected things to end up the way they did.

3622 words, Female Ryder|Sara Ryder/Original Male Turian Character, teen rating

AO3

-

They say time gives perspective, and they’re right. If he’s learned anything from Mira, it’s that he can be an insensitive prick. Thick-headed. That emotional support is a two-way street, and he needs to make the extra effort on his side, because it’s clear that his nav system is faulty.

Time also allowed him to cool his head over Aela. They’ve talked since, and have mutually agreed they kind of hate each other, but not hate hate each other. And they agreed that they both fucked things up royally. But they definitely didn’t see that at the time.

“You gonna sign up or not, kid?”

The asari matron that worked the school office front desk with an iron fist glared at him. She pointed up at the wall clock, the digits winding down the day.

“You’re pushing it you know?” she said. “We told you all by the end of today.”

“Yeah, I know,” Phrixus said. He kept the snap out of his voice; no one screwed with the office workers unless they wanted a straight kick into in-school suspension.

She continued to glare at him, then snorted and went back to her terminal.

He really was pushing it, but even so, he had twenty minutes until ‘end of day.’ The clock up there said so.

He’d done his best to ignore the approaching deadline. But it had crept up on him, deliberately and inevitably. The sheet on the datapad in front of him, had been scrawled on by every one of the turians in his class. It was for time slots for the final evaluation exam before bootcamp assignments. And all of the later exam spots, that gave more time for studying, were already taken. He had literally waited until the last minute, so serves him right.

But he hated the reminder. He didn’t want to go. Sure, probably no one else did, either, but still… He thought about Mira, about everything, and his hand hovered over the datapad with the stylus.

And then, he tucked his mandibles, eyes squinting. He scrolled through the names, and then scrolled again. Unease rose in his stomach. Quickly, he signed his name and tapped at his omnitool. He messaged Aela, and when she didn’t immediately reply, he called her. And called her again after she didn’t pick up the first time.

“What?” she asked, finally answering.

“You’re not on the exam list,” Phrixus told her smugly. “Forget did you? Well, I’m a nice guy, and I’m here, so I’ll do it for you.”

“Oh,��� she stated flatly. “Right. That.”

“There’s only spots in one or two–”

“Listen, Jaril. Don’t worry about it.”

His eyes narrowed. “What? There’s only like ten minutes until they take it up.”

“I said don’t worry about it, alright?” her voice got sharp.

“Spirits, fine,” Phrixus spat. He flipped his omnitool off. The matron at the desk was completely ignoring him.

He shouldered his bag and left the office, answering the message he’d gotten from Mira while in there. They had plans to go back to his place for the afternoon. And then tomorrow was Saturday: everyone was going to Silversun, and he and Mira had been avoiding the rest of the group for so long that they were long overdue for a match at the Arena. They were probably rusty.

She was waiting for him at the school gate. Looking up at him, she reached for his hand.

“Did you sign up?” she asked.

He squeezed her fingers. “Yeah.”

The curve of her face turned down, to spare him from the hurt sitting underneath her surface. He looked down at her, people passing them on their way out. His throat tightened. And he’ll later realize what a mistake he made next, by taking her back to his room and kissing her instead of talking. Now they weren’t screwing up the dose of antihistamine; they were getting confused about the difference between physical closeness and intimacy.

She’d started smoking since N’tessa’s older sister let a few of them over for a house party. Older sister thought Mira was ‘sweet’ and given her a pack; it was a human thing, nearly an extinct habit on Earth, but still had a kind of edge among colonists and spacers. Edge. Right. Mira probably wasn’t even aware why it attracted her.

They sat in bed through that silent afternoon, quietly reading about the different bootcamps throughout Hierarchy space surrounded by a bitter pall coming off white smoke. He told her about Aela’s weirdness.

Mira frowned, head nestled against his side. “She didn’t sign up? That’s– I dunno. She didn’t say anything to me.”

He kept scrolling through his omnitool. “Hmm.”

“Ask her tomorrow or something,” she said.

Cool air slipped in between them as she sat up. The smooth expanse of her back was turned to him, curls straggling down her spine. You could see the shapes of a few vertebrae: that was how thin and delicate human skin was. She shifted to tap ashes into a disposable cup, and a sliver of jaw and cheek turned toward him.  A sinuous sliver that sunk into his head.

“It’s getting late,” she said.

He turned off his omnitool. “I’ll walk you to the station.”

“‘Kay.”

That Saturday, the usual group met up in Silversun. Phrixus had long since mastered all of the faux guns and grenades the Arena had on hand. He wasn’t much for tech or melee, and he had never shown signs of developing biotics. But guns, he could do. Tactical thinking, he could do. Mira’d gotten in the habit of shooting from increasingly long distances; apparently her dad was talking about getting her a real rifle soon. And Forta and Aela were their usual selves, leading the charge and making nuisances of themselves.

They went to Aela’s afterward. General Quentius and his wife were yet again on Palaven, for important Hierarchy something or other, leaving their teenage daughter with the run of their Presidium mansion. Beer was produced, the poolhouse ended up soaked up to the walls by a series of canonballs, and a mess was made in the kitchen once people started jonesing. Phrixus had been doing his best to just relax and forget about tomorrow, and the tomorrows after tomorrow. But as he sat in her massive living room, with Forta beside him getting increasingly blitzed (his own head swam with pleasant warmth) and Aela and Mira across from them, he remembered.

“Aela,” he half-shouted over the music.

“What,” she said, turning from Mira.

He grinned and leaned forward. “You just planning on skipping bootcamp, or what?”

Aela’s blue eyes roved over him, the dark green line of her markings flexing as her mandibles flexed. She set down her drink.

“Listen,” she said. “I have to tell you all something.”

“Waitwait,” Forta drawled, clumsy hands waving for effect. “Lemme guess. Yoooou’re gonna go rogue. Pirate! Pirate Captain Quentius!”

“No, you dumbass,” Aela said with amusement in her subvocals. She glanced back at Phrixus. “See, there’s the embassy on the Citadel, and of course our councilor’s offices. But there’s also a Hierarchy outpost, right?”

Phrixus frowned. Was that right? He guessed so. He didn’t keep up with things like bureaucratic structures. He shrugged at her.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s meant to coordinate with the other council species’ militaries. They, quote-unquote, exchange information and coordinate joint ops in the rest of the galaxy. Anyway–”

She cleared her throat. Mira, the sober twin tonight, leaned in toward her. Aela glanced back at her.

“Anyway,” she continued. “Every year the Citadel outpost takes in some greenies and lets them do basic here. And I’ve prequalified.”

Eyes wide, Mira lunged to grasp onto Aela’s arm. “Oh my god. Are you saying you’re getting to stay? You’re not leaving!”

“Well, the barracks are over in Roppa Ward, but yeah,” Aela said, her voice on the edge of preening.

Phrixus’s stomach churned.

She had never said anything to him about some Citadel-based boot camp. Not once. Had never told him there was a way he didn’t have to leave his moms behind, or Mira, or Forta, or, hell, even Aela herself.

“Hold on,” Phrixus said, straightening. “How many people are going to this… whatever here?”

Aela turned back to him. Mira let go of her arm, and a look came over her as she stared between them.

“There’s me,” Aela stated, and rattled off a total of five others. Three of them going to their school and in some of their classes. And this was great; it was just what he would expect. There was Aela, of course: daughter of General Quentius, fourth in line for Primus and next for Councilor. Then the son of the governor of Menae, the son of the ambassador to Thessia, and the daughter of the vice-president of the volus-client contract federation– the Hierarchy’s most influential bank.

Of course.

How could he have been so stupid.

“And how do you prequalify for this special boot camp?” he asked her quietly.

Aela stared at him, at whatever his quiet tone was transferring into his face. Her eyes narrowed. And Phrixus could only distantly feel Forta beside him shifting, maybe saying something, and Mira over there with her wide eyes.

“You have to have sufficient grades, physical aptitude, and exhibit exceptional ambition,” Aela said, her jaw jutting forward and her eyes searing.

Phrixus laughed. “Exceptional ambition? Is that what they call it?”

She tensed, her limbs coiled and too still. “Jaril, don’t you–”

Mira cut in. “Aela, how long have you known?”

Aela glanced at her.

“A while now,” she admitted. “Eight months.”

Mira’s brow knitted. “Why are you telling us just now?”

Her mandibles tucked and flicked, a warring between her conflicting impulses.

“Because,” Aela snapped. “I knew he’d be like this.”

She jerked a hand out to wave at Phrixus.

“Spirits, since day one he’s had a freaking chip on his shoulder about being some colonist. Giving everyone else that fucking look he’s got right now just because we weren’t poor enough for him. Poor little nobody, all alone with these snooty pieces of shit.”

“You–” Phrixus started, his subvocals going low and trembling. “I don’t have a problem with rich people. I have a problem with people who weasel the fuck out of their obligations. Obligations that we’re all supposed to fucking share. I have a motherfucking problem with people who think they’re better than others.”

Aela was standing now. And he was, too. He’d lost track of the twins, didn’t even really care where they were or what they were doing.

“You ungrateful shit,” Aela spat. “I’ve been nothing but a friend to you–”

“Oh, excuse me, ignorant fuck that I am, unwise to your grand Citadel manners. Didn’t know I had to be fucking grateful to someone for deigning to be my friend.”

“Fuck you,” she said, voice trilling and razored. “You’re the one that’s always just sat there, judging us. Hating us. The only reason you ever hung out with us is so you could screw Mira–”

Phrixus punched her. He just drew back and hit her in the jaw. Aela reeled. She turned back, eyes blazing, and lunged at him. The next few moments were a blur of cutting talons and huffs of pain. And then he got winded when someone grabbed him by the middle and dragged back, forcing the air from his chest. The music’s bass was pounding his head and around them people had stopped to stare, a few laughing.

Forta had him in a death grip; he hadn’t been joking when he’d started bragging about being able to deadlift, uh, what the hell ever was that number. Because Phrixus had always been taller than Forta, but now he was practically hanging in his arms like a doll. Mira and N’tessa had Aela’s arms pinned between them, even with her squirming and glaring daggers at him.

“You gonna be good, ‘cause if this keeps on I’m gonna puke all over your carapace,” Forta managed to squeeze out between Phrixus’s struggling.

Phrixus stilled. “Yeah, fine.”

He didn’t wait to continue the conversation or what the hell ever they wanted from him; he strode around the couch, out the living room through the throngs of kids staring at him incredulously, and out the door. The Quentius mansion was in a tiered garden neighborhood, with a few expensive cars flying up and down to their docks. It was quite a walk down to the ‘gutter’ of the tiers, where you could reach the entrance to the tram station.

He set his shoulders, and tried to quiet his still furiously beating heart and the jumpiness in his muscles. He couldn’t even feel where Aela’d gotten him over the eye. But he blinked and realized he was bleeding. Swearing quietly, he stopped. What was he going to tell his moms?

“Phrixus!”

He turned.

Mira was jogging toward him, apparently having been calling him for a while. Forta wasn’t far behind. He didn’t say anything as she stopped before him, her brother slowing to keep some distance.

“You–” she started. She gazed up at the spot above his eye.

He didn’t resist as she tugged him off into one of the neighborhood’s side garden, with prettily-trimmed hedges and a damn fountain too. None of them had a spare cloth or anything (they wore athletic gear from running around the Arena earlier), so he just kind of stuck his face near the fountain water’s surface and splashed some onto his cut. Mira sat on the fountain lip nearby, Forta leaning on the little courtyard wall.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

With some satisfaction, Phrixus watched the dark blue stickiness of his blood make swirls in the little decorative fountain.

He looked up at her. “Did you know about this?”

Mira drew back. Her brow drew in and her lips parted soundlessly. “What…”

He didn’t add anything, just looked at her. She blinked rapidly.

“No,” she finally said tightly. “I don’t know why you’d think– this was the first I’d heard she was staying here.”

Phrixus glanced at Forta, who seemed more focused and frowned.

“Phri, c’mon. You know we would’ve said something,” he told him.

He looked back at Mira. “It’s just hard to see how I never heard of some option to get stay here.”

Abruptly, Mira stood. “Do you think I’d keep something like that secret? That I wanted Aela to stay and not you?”

Phrixus didn’t answer. He looked back at the fountain surface and his dissipating swirl of blood mixing with these rich fucks’ precious decorative water. Mira was beside him, he could see down the length of her legs and her expensive sneakers.

“Fine,” she said. “Whatever. I don’t care. Just– whatever.”

And her legs and her sneakers walked away, out of his line of vision. Her steps squeaked out and down in the lane, in the direction of the station. Forta’s legs replaced hers, though, and his hand fell on Phrixus’s shoulder. He tensed, didn’t respond or look up, so Forta dropped his hand. Probably shrugged and almost said something. And then he jogged away in the direction his sister went.

Phrixus sat there for a long time before he got up and dragged his feet toward the tram station.

-

I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. That was shitty of me. And I was out of line, saying that stuff about you and where you came from. And I know this thing with me staying here is just another example of the system that shouldn’t be like this, that there’s so much hypocrisy. It’s a shit system, I know, but

I don’t know, Phrixus. I feel like I have a part to play in this world. Even with its shitty system. How about this– if in fifteen years I don’t make something out of what I’ve been given, you can have me impeached or court-martialed or whatever it is that’ll hurt me the most.

And I’m sorry about what I said about you and Mira. I know you care about each other. It’s just I’ve known her since preschool and then you come along and getting her to just answer a damn message is like pulling teeth. Sometimes I miss her, okay?

Also, you asshole, that punch fucking hurt. You don’t do meelee, bullshit!

Sincerely, Your Very Sorry Friend, Aela

-

And you got your damn claws in my side. That maneuver’s not in the manual for acceptable rules of engagement, moron.

I’m sorry, too. You’ve been a friend to me. You really have, and you’ve been there for me. And yeah, I have to admit that I’ve been jealous sometimes. But I guess at the end of the day, I’m glad we’re friends.

I didn’t take Mira from you or anything. You know you’ll always be her best friend. So I’m glad you’ll get to hang out with her in between lazing around the embassies or whatever it is you’re gonna end up doing. Don’t think I’m not going to hold you to that fifteen year promise. You think I’m salty now? You have no freaking idea.

Phrixus

-

[phrixus] hey

[phrixus] please talk to me

[phrixus] mira

[phrixus] i’m sorry

[phrixus] im a fucking idiot

[phrixus] i shouldn’t have fought with aela. im just scared. i dont want to leave my moms, or you, or any of this here. i hate that she gets to stay and i can’t. im jealous of her. everything seems so easy for her, and im just struggling to make sense of my life. i dont want to leave you, i dont want you to forget me.

[mira] im sorry too. i don’t want you to leave either.

[mira] you know i want you to stay so much right

[phrixus] i know

[mira] im not gonna forget you

[mira] you cant forget me either

[phrixus] that’s not possible

[phrixus] it’s only a year

[mira] i know

[mira] ill wait

-

Later, when some dipshit skulking around read over his shoulder as he went back over those logs, he was teased mercilessly by his squad. And he got incredibly embarrassed. But he probably should have been more embarrassed about getting embarrassed.

-

When he goes in to hug Calix, there’s a distinct pause, a moment of significance when they both realized that he’s taller than her.

Only by a few centimeters, that’s all. But still.

Regardless, she pulled him to her and squeezed tight, her talons catching on the rather plain uniform he’d been issued.

“Mandibles up, hun,” she whispered at his jaw. “It’s only a year.”

They both knew that wasn’t really true. Basic training was a year, yeah, but then he’d only be given a short leave to visit home before shipping out again to his first posting. And there were vid calls, of course, and his parents could visit him graduation week, but– that wasn’t the thing. The thing was, this was it. This was the point where he went from civilian to citizen. Where his life wasn’t just about himself or his moms or his friends. Now his life was given to the Hierarchy,

Phrixus nodded, though. “Yeah. It’ll go by fast.”

Calix let him go, and Domera took her place.

Other families on Dock 86 were saying the same things around them. It’s only a year. Listen to the officers. Don’t deal shit you can’t take. Work hard. Call home. We’ll miss you. Goodbye. Domera patted him on the back, a steady rhythm. Like she used to when he was little, and he couldn’t fall asleep without one of them patting him on the back.

Phrixus pulled away and met Domera’s gaze. They nodded, and she let him go with a last pat on his arms.

Mira stood nearby. They reached for each other and flattened themselves together. They’d had about nine weeks after the fight with Aela– nine weeks of eeking out every touch and minute of time spent together– but it hadn’t seemed like nearly enough. He could feel her fists balling up the fabric across his back, and his hands were entwined in her dark brown curls. There was a tight thing growing in his chest, so he exhaled (breathed in one final smell of her shampoo) and made himself separate. Made himself tap his forehead against hers, and rotate down to a brief brush of their lips. And let go.

She looked up at him. Then she dropped her gaze, and let Forta squeeze him tight, too (shut up, man, you’re crying). The couple of their friends that had come patted him on the back. Aela wasn’t there; she was already at her camp, busy with a thing. Probably just as well. He didn’t want to end up saying something he’d regret.

A shrill whistle cut the dock’s chatter. The sergeant sent from Caelax, second planet in the same system as Palaven and site of the second oldest basic training camp, stood at the dock exit, hard eyes gazing over them all.

“Line up,” he stated sharply.

The turian parents nudged their kids. Final words were hurriedly exchanged, luggage was slung over backs.

“Today, people,” the sergeant barked. “You’ve carried them for nine months, raised them for fifteen years, now they’re mine. They aren’t your civilians; they’re my citizens, let’s go.”

Phrixus slung final one-armed hugs around Calix and Domera, grabbed his backpack, and lined up.

One by one, the sergeant called out roll and each of the teenagers shuffled out the dock exit, giving their families one final look back. As Phrixus answered his name, and walked toward the sergeant, he got a last glimpse of his moms doing their best to smile and wave, at Forta and his friends waving in earnest, and Mira just watching, her face tight and frozen. The dock hatch hissed closed behind him.