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solar-wing · 1 year ago

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⚣ Too Late 💙

⚣💙 A/N → request for @alexanderstarhero! Hope you enjoy it! Also, I apologize for my extended absence. I have a job, I'm starting a new school program, and business-related things keep me busy, but I'm still here guys! I promise! Not sure how I feel about this one. I feel like I could've done better but we desperately need some more Clark Kent x male reader though so here you go. Which, by the way, if you haven't checked out @nouearth, his Clark fics and literally everything else makes me melt and feel unholy things. Churches beware. ANYWAY, Hope everyone likes it! WARNINGS: Magical Male Reader | Angst & Fluff | Childhood Friends To Lovers | SFW |

⚣💙 Summary → You know, one would think moving to a completely different city in hopes of forgetting your past life and feelings would be enough. But fate is a sneaky little bastard that just loves to play with your feelings. Is it too late for a do-over?

⚣💙 Words → 12.4K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 💙

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The city lights of Metropolis flickered through the windows of a small, cozy apartment, where the hum of traffic below provided a constant background noise. Y/N stood by the window, a glass of juice in hand, staring out at the skyline. Since moving to the city, he often found himself feeling nostalgic, with old memories of Smallville popping into his mind more frequently than he’d like. Most of those memories had a common thread.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he took a sip of his juice, the cool liquid doing little to ease the anxious tightness in his chest. Moving to Metropolis was supposed to be a fresh start—a way to leave behind his past and focus on building a better, normal life for himself, free from the constraints of small-town life.

Since he was a baby, Y/N had been gifted with magical abilities. How he got these powers was a mystery to both him and his parents; they could never find any trace of magical ability in their ancestry. With no idea where the powers came from, and no one to turn to for help, his parents did everything they could to hide their son’s abilities from the outside world. They tried their best to teach him control, but without expertise, they were flying blind.

Growing up, Y/N barely knew how to control or use his powers. You’d think in a small town like his, people would have noticed or called in the town priest, but that wasn’t the case. In Metropolis, when something strange happened—something that often happened to Y/N—people would give him odd looks, but then they’d move on with their day as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. In Smallville, though, everyone treated it as normal.

After the Kents arrived with their new kid, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the town acted as if every strange occurrence was just part of everyday life. They quickly shut down anyone who dared to question it, and that extended to both Clark Kent and Y/N.

Small towns were usually known for everyone knowing everyone’s business. Gossip was the native language. But not in Smallville. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory of how the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary seemed to blur there. Most places would have been up in arms if they noticed the strange occurrences that happened in Smallville. But in that little Kansas town, people had an uncanny ability to overlook the impossible, shrugging off the extraordinary as if it were just another quirk of life.

Take Clark Kent, for instance. Anyone could see that something was different about him. He was stronger, faster, and able to do things most grown men couldn’t even imagine, let alone a small farm boy. But the townsfolk never questioned it. They simply accepted that he could do things no one else could and moved on.

It was the same with Y/N. He might accidentally cause a book to float off a shelf or a light to flicker when he was upset, but no one in Smallville ever made a fuss, something his parents were very grateful for. There were whispers—there always are in small towns—but they never left closed doors. The people of Smallville had learned long ago to mind their own business, especially when it came to the Kents and Y/N.

Even more so when a bunch of guys in black suits, glasses, and SUVs showed up one week, probing around town and asking strange questions. It had been after one of the more noticeable incidents—a moment when Clark saved someone in a way that couldn’t be easily explained. If there was one thing you could count on from a small town, it was that they weren’t saying anything to those types of Feds or government officials.

The memory was still vivid in Y/N’s mind: the way the town closed ranks, the polite but firm way the locals deflected every question, sending agents on wild goose chases until they finally gave up. His parents had mentioned that it was nothing compared to when that strange meteor hit the Kent farm and a bunch of government agents and scientists showed up—the same week the Kents got a new kid named Clark.

It was as if the entire town had decided, collectively and without speaking a word, that whatever was going on with the Kents—and by extension, Y/N—was their business and no one else’s. The unspoken rule in Smallville was clear: if you saw something strange, you didn’t see it. You didn’t ask questions, and you certainly didn’t talk about it. It was a kind of willful ignorance, a way for the town to protect its own from prying eyes. And in some strange, twisted way, it worked.

Y/N often wondered how much of it was a conscious choice and how much was just the way Smallville was. It was as if the town itself had decided to shield them, to create a bubble where the extraordinary was just another part of everyday life.

But as comforting as that was, it was also suffocating. Because even in a town that turned a blind eye to the unusual, Y/N couldn’t escape the feeling that he was different, that there was something wrong with him. He couldn’t shake the fear that one day, the bubble would burst, and everyone would see him for what he really was—a freak, an outcast.

At least he had a friend.

Imagine the two kids in town who both had episodes of strange, inexplicable things happening to them or around them becoming friends. Completely ironic, like something straight out of a story. Unless...

...

Nah.

But in a place where the extraordinary was treated with a shrug, having someone like Clark as a friend made all the difference. It was as if fate—or whatever unseen force governed the universe—had decided that these two oddities should find each other. And find each other they did, in the most natural, unassuming way possible.

Clark and Y/N became fast friends, drawn together by their shared experiences of feeling different, even if neither of them fully understood why. They never talked about the strange things that happened to them, never discussed how Clark could lift bales of hay like they weighed nothing, or how Y/N could sometimes make things move with just a thought. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that whatever was happening to them was theirs to carry, together.

In a town that turned a blind eye to the impossible, Clark was the one person who made Y/N feel like he wasn’t alone. There was a quiet comfort in their friendship, a sense of belonging that Y/N had never felt before. They were both outsiders in their own way, but together, they found a place where they could be themselves, where they didn’t have to pretend or hide.

But as they grew older, that comfort became a source of anxiety for Y/N. The more time he spent with Clark, the more he realized that his feelings for his friend were deeper than just friendship. He cared about Clark in a way that went beyond the bond they shared, and it terrified him. In a town that could overlook floating books and superhuman strength, there were still lines that couldn’t be crossed, and Y/N knew that his feelings for Clark were one of them.

He tried to suppress those feelings, to bury them deep inside where they couldn’t cause any harm. But the harder he tried, the more they grew, until it became impossible to ignore them. He started to pull away, putting distance between himself and Clark, hoping that space would make the feelings fade. It didn’t.

Plus, Y/N still didn’t understand the extent of his abilities, and he knew sometimes his powers would react to his emotions. He didn’t want to risk doing anything that could hurt Clark. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if something happened because of his inability to control his powers.

Yet, good old noble Clark, always perceptive and caring, noticed the change. He didn’t push or pry, but there was always that look in his eyes, a quiet concern that only made Y/N’s heart ache more. Clark didn’t know why Y/N was pulling away, but he never stopped trying to bridge the gap. He was always there with a smile, a warm word, or an invitation to hang out, never letting the distance between them grow too wide.

It was those small gestures that made it so hard for Y/N to keep his resolve. Every time he saw Clark, every time Clark reached out, Y/N was reminded of why he had fallen for him in the first place. Clark was kind, selfless, and endlessly patient—the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without a second thought. How could Y/N not fall in love with someone like that?

But that love was exactly what made Y/N so afraid. The more he cared about Clark, the more he feared losing him, either because of his uncontrolled magic or because of the feelings he couldn’t keep buried forever. He knew that if he stayed in Smallville, if he stayed close to Clark, something would eventually slip. Maybe he’d accidentally reveal his powers, or maybe his feelings would come spilling out in a moment of weakness. Either way, Y/N was sure that it would end with Clark looking at him differently, seeing him as something strange, something other.

Thankfully, the age of adulthood and high school graduation came, and Y/N took that as his way out. His parents were as worried as ever about him moving to a college so far away, but he reassured them he’d be fine.

He decided on college in New York, thinking the change from small town to big city was exactly what he needed. At least there, it made sense for people to turn a blind eye to whatever strange things were going on around them.

But even throughout his years of undergrad, Y/N could never shake the memories of Smallville, and more specifically, he could never forget Clark. No matter how much distance he put between them, the memories of their friendship lingered, haunting him in the quiet moments when he was alone. He would often catch himself thinking about Clark—wondering what he was doing, if he was still in Smallville, if he had moved on with his life the way Y/N had tried to.

Y/N thought that maybe, over time, those feelings would fade, that he would move on and forget the boy who had once meant everything to him. But they never did. Even in the crowded, bustling city of New York, where life moved at a breakneck pace and there was always something new to distract him, Y/N found his thoughts drifting back to Clark.

He tried dating other people, hoping that maybe if he found someone else, someone who wasn’t Clark, it would help him move on. But it never worked. No one else could compare to the boy who had always been there for him, who had seen him at his worst and never judged him for it. Every relationship ended the same way, with Y/N feeling like he was chasing something he could never have, like he was trying to fill a void that only Clark could fill.

Then, after graduation, Y/N was offered a job in Metropolis. It was a great opportunity, the kind of offer he couldn’t turn down. It wasn’t too far from where he was already living, but he figured a new change of scenery couldn’t be too bad.

Plus, he wanted to check out the rumors he’d heard of some sort of superhero who had started making headlines in Metropolis. The stories seemed almost too wild to believe—a man with superhuman strength, speed, and the ability to fly, saving people and fighting crime in the heart of the city. It was the kind of thing that would have been dismissed as tabloid nonsense anywhere else, but Y/N knew better. If there was one thing Smallville had taught him, it was that the extraordinary often hid in plain sight.

So, with a mix of curiosity and the desire for a fresh start, Y/N packed his bags and moved to Metropolis. He found a small, cozy apartment in a quieter part of the city, close enough to the action but far enough to avoid the chaos. The job was great—challenging, fulfilling, and exactly what he needed to take his mind off things. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was still running, still trying to outrun the shadow of his past.

Despite his attempts to leave his old life behind, Y/N couldn’t completely ignore his powers. He had spent too long hiding them, too long fearing them, but deep down, he believed that if he had these abilities, he should use them for good. In Smallville, he had been careful, using his magic only when absolutely necessary, but here in Metropolis, he found himself with more opportunities to help in small, subtle ways.

He’d mend a broken bike chain with a whisper of an incantation or quietly heal a scraped knee when no one was looking. He’d use his magic to nudge a stray cat away from traffic or to coax a wilting plant back to life. He was always careful, always discreet, making sure that no one noticed the little miracles he performed. It was his way of giving back, of using the gifts he had been given to make the world around him just a little bit better.

But there were times when he couldn’t help but step in and do more.

One evening, he walked past a small, family-owned bookstore that he had become fond of. The owner, an elderly man who had run the shop for decades, was sitting behind the counter with a look of deep worry on his face. Over the weeks, Y/N had noticed the shelves becoming sparser, and the customers fewer. The man had confided in Y/N once, mentioning how the business was struggling, how the bills were piling up, and how he feared he might lose the store if things didn’t turn around soon.

Y/N couldn’t bear to see the man lose everything he had worked so hard to build. So, that night, under the cover of darkness, Y/N returned to the bookstore. He stood outside the shop, focusing his energy on the building, weaving a spell that would attract more customers and give the store a sense of warmth and welcoming. He whispered incantations for prosperity and good fortune, sending out waves of magic that would subtly influence the minds of those who passed by, drawing them in with an inexplicable urge to browse and buy.

Over the next few days, Y/N was delighted to see the shop bustling with customers. The owner’s smile returned, and the store was once again filled with the chatter of people and the smell of fresh coffee brewing in the corner. The shelves began to fill up again, and the old man even had to hire an assistant to help him manage the increasing business.

Another time, he found himself playing guardian angel when he was walking home from work one night and spotted a young woman on the opposite side of the street, her pace quickening as she noticed a group of men following her. Y/N’s heart raced, and he quickly assessed the situation. He couldn’t confront them directly—he wasn’t a superhero—but he could help in other ways.

A few thoughts and concentrated focus, and suddenly a series of events unfolded: a nearby street light flickered and went out, casting the area in shadow; a loud crash from behind pulled the men's attention away from her; a gentle breeze nudged her toward a more populated, well-lit area. With the streetlight out, it gave her natural cover long enough to slip out of sight and into the safety of a nearby diner, the sound of her heels muffled by Y/N’s magic.

Y/N watched from a distance, relieved when the woman was safe inside, her would-be attackers now lost and confused. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Recently, he visited a local hospital where a friend’s child was being treated. The doctors were worried; the illness wasn’t responding to treatment, and the prognosis was grim. Y/N spent hours by the child’s bedside, speaking softly to him, holding his hand. When no one was looking, he let his magic flow through him, just a touch, just enough to help the child’s body fight back.

The next morning, the doctors were stunned by the sudden improvement. They couldn’t explain it, chalked it up to a miracle or a sudden turn of fate, but Y/N knew better. He slipped away before anyone could question it, leaving behind only a whispered prayer of thanks for the child’s recovery.

Y/N never took credit for any of his acts. And while they weren’t grand, weren’t the stuff of legends, they were enough to give him a sense of purpose, a way to use his gifts without drawing too much attention. He was careful, always careful, to remain in the shadows, to let the world think these small miracles were just coincidences, nothing more.

But now, standing in his apartment, staring out at the city skyline, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like he was right back where he started. The memories of Smallville were stronger than ever, and the loneliness he had tried so hard to escape felt more suffocating in this big city than it ever had in the small town.

It had been years since he left, but the memories of that quiet town still lingered in his mind, especially the memories of Clark Kent. He just couldn’t figure out why they had suddenly become so strong. Maybe it was the time of year, or maybe it was because he had been thinking about how he used his magic to help people in Metropolis—something that Clark would surely approve of, even if he never knew about it.

Or maybe it was because, despite everything he had done to distance himself, Clark had always been there, a constant presence in his thoughts, no matter how much Y/N tried to move on.

He took another sip of his juice, the cool liquid doing little to ease the tightness in his chest. He hadn’t seen Clark in years, hadn’t heard from him since he left Smallville, but the feelings he had for his old friend hadn’t faded. If anything, they had only grown stronger, deepening with time and distance. And that was what scared him the most—how much he still cared, how much he still missed him.

Y/N set his glass down on the windowsill, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the nostalgia. He had a new life now, a good life, and he couldn’t afford to dwell on the past. Clark was probably living his own life, happy and successful, just as Y/N was trying to do.

But the more he tried to push the memories away, the more they clung to him, like shadows that refused to disappear. He sighed, turning his gaze out the window, hoping that the familiar sight of the city would ground him, would remind him of the new path he had chosen.

The city lights twinkled in the distance, a sea of illumination against the darkened sky. Y/N’s eyes scanned the skyline absently, taking in the familiar sights he had grown accustomed to since moving to Metropolis. But something caught his eye, something unusual that made his breath catch in his throat.

High above the city, a figure streaked across the sky, moving with impossible speed and grace. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the red and blue blur—a sight that had become increasingly familiar to the citizens of Metropolis. It was Superman.

Y/N watched, mesmerized, as the figure soared through the night, his movements precise and powerful. But as he watched, a strange sensation began to creep over him, a feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn’t just awe or admiration—though those feelings were there, too—it was something deeper, something unsettling.

There was something about Superman, something in the way he moved, in the way he seemed to command the air around him, that tugged at the edges of Y/N’s consciousness. It was as if some hidden part of him recognized the hero in the sky, even though he knew that was impossible. He had never met Superman, had never been anywhere near him. And yet…

Y/N pressed his hand against the cool glass of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. His magic, usually so controlled, began to stir, responding to the swirl of emotions inside him. The sensation was both familiar and alien, a strange mix of nostalgia and unease that made his chest tighten.

As he watched Superman disappear into the distance, Y/N couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that had settled over him. It was as if the presence of the hero had awakened something inside him, something that had been dormant for years. And with that awakening came a sense of foreboding, a nagging feeling that his past was not as far behind him as he had hoped.

Y/N tore his gaze away from the window, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that had taken root in his chest. But even as he turned away, the sense of familiarity lingered, haunting him like a ghost from a life he had tried so hard to leave behind.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, but the image of Superman remained burned into his mind, along with the inexplicable sense that something—someone—was drawing him back into a world he thought he had escaped.

And deep down, Y/N knew that this was only the beginning.

The grand ballroom of the Metropolis City Hall buzzed with chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. The charity event his job was sponsoring was in full swing, a glamorous affair with the city’s elite mingling and donating to a worthy cause. Y/N stood near the edge of the room, awkwardly holding a glass of water and wondering how quickly he could make a polite escape.

This wasn’t exactly his scene. Networking? Sure. Small talk? Not so much. Especially with these tone-deaf, overly stiff airheads. He glanced around, trying to locate the nearest exit, but the sea of people made it difficult. And just when he thought found a suitable path of escape, a waiter with a tray of hors d'oeuvres suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Crab cake?”

“Uh, no thanks,” Y/N mumbled, sidestepping the tray, only to nearly collide with a woman in a sequined dress who was clearly on a mission to get to the bar. He offered a quick apology and finally made it to a quiet corner, where he could breathe again.

As he scanned the room, his thoughts drifted back to last night and a certain caped superhero. His curiosity combined with the still overwhelming feelings of longing and nostalgia had the magic in him feeling antsy. And the last thing Y/N needed was to accidentally cause a chandelier to implode or a champagne glass to refill itself endlessly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself, not wanting to make a big scene considering he wanted to make a hasty and sneaky exit. As he opened his eyes, Y/N forced his thoughts away from Superman, away from the strange connection he’d felt the night before. He needed to focus on the present, on getting through this evening without incident.

Y/N sighed, taking a sip of his water. This was supposed to be a fresh start. The past was behind him, and he needed to keep it that way.

But fate, as it often does, had other plans. Little sneaky bastard.

Just as he was about to make a break for the exit, Y/N’s eyes caught sight of someone across the room, and his heart nearly stopped. There, standing by the dessert table with a bemused expression, was Clark Kent.

Of course, Clark would be standing around looking lost with his cute little confused expression. Even now as a grown man, Clark managed to keep his boyish and innocent demeanor. Y/N’s mouth went dry as his eyes took in the sight of the male—older, more polished, and just as big as ever.

Since they were little, Clark always stood out among the other kids for his build and height alone. And it looks like that didn't change with the way he towered over everyone in the room and how his broad shoulders filled out his suit perfectly, the fabric clinging just right in all the places that mattered. Y/N felt a familiar flutter in his chest, a mix of nostalgia and something more complicated that he’d been trying to ignore for years.

Clark, as if sensing someone’s gaze on him, looked up from the dessert table. His eyes, those same bright blue eyes that Y/N remembered so well, scanned the room briefly before landing directly on him. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he considered ducking behind the nearest potted plant.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/N could feel his pulse in his throat, and for a second, he entertained the idea of hiding behind the nearest potted plant.

But then Clark’s face lit up with a grin that could have powered the entire room, and he started making his way over, weaving through the crowd with the kind of determined politeness that only Clark could pull off.

Panic set in, and Y/N’s mind scrambled for a plan, but his feet were rooted to the spot, his body betraying him. All he could do was watch as Clark closed the distance between them, that familiar grin never leaving his face.

“Y/N!” Clark’s voice was as warm and friendly as Y/N remembered, and before he knew it, he was being pulled into a hug that was just as firm and comforting as it had always been.

Y/N stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected embrace. When Clark finally pulled back, still keeping a hand on Y/N’s shoulder as if afraid he might vanish, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the slight smudge of chocolate on Clark’s tie. It was such a Clark thing to have—always a little messy, always endearing.

“Clark,” Y/N managed to say, his voice coming out more breathless than he intended. “It’s been a while.”

Clark beamed at him, the smile reaching his eyes in that way that always made Y/N feel like everything was going to be okay. “Yeah, it really has,” Clark said, his tone filled with a warmth that made Y/N’s heart ache with memories of simpler times. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the Smallville backdrop.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, trying to keep things light despite the sudden rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Yeah, I guess we’ve both changed a bit.”

Clark’s gaze lingered on Y/N’s face, a mix of curiosity and concern in his eyes. It was clear that Clark had questions, but to his credit, he didn’t push. Instead, he gave Y/N one of those easy, reassuring smiles that had always been able to calm him down. “I’m really glad to see you again. I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

There it was—the punch to the gut that Y/N had been dreading. He had missed Clark too, more than he wanted to admit. But standing here, face-to-face with him after all these years, all those old fears and feelings began to resurface. The fear of Clark discovering the truth about his powers, about his feelings. The fear of losing the one person who had always meant the most to him.

“I’ve missed you too,” Y/N said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was the truth, but saying it out loud made the tightness in his chest even worse.

Clark’s smile softened, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. Y/N could almost believe that they could pick up where they left off, that everything could go back to the way it was. But deep down, he knew it could never be that simple.

His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar look of concern flickering across his face. “You okay? You seem a little… off.”

Y/N forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as strained as it felt. “I’m fine, just—uh—surprised, I guess. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, surprise!” Clark laughed with his usual shy manner that was somehow still charming for Y/N’s frayed nerves. “I’ve been working at the Daily Planet. Moved to Metropolis not too long ago. How about you? What brings you here?”

“Work,” Y/N answered quickly, trying to keep the conversation light. “Got a job offer I couldn’t turn down.”

Clark nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/N. It was as if he was trying to read him, to figure out what was going on beneath the surface. For a moment, Y/N was afraid that Clark could see right through him, could see the turmoil and conflict he was struggling with.

But then, the moment passed, and Clark was smiling again, his expression softening.

Y/N cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts away from the past and back to the present. "So, the Daily Planet, huh? That’s a pretty big deal," he said, trying to keep the conversation light.

Clark’s eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It’s been a dream come true. And the best part? I get to work with some amazing people—Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. They’re right over there, actually," Clark added, his tone suddenly turning a bit more nervous. "You’ve got to meet them!"

Before Y/N could even process the idea, Clark grabbed his arm, leading him through the crowd with an urgency that caught Y/N off guard. He barely had time to adjust before they were standing in front of a petite woman with sharp eyes and a confident demeanor, who was mid-conversation with a young man enthusiastically fiddling with a vintage camera.

"Lois! Jimmy!" Clark called out, drawing their attention.

Lois turned first, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Y/N. Then her expression softened into a warm, welcoming smile. "Clark! Who’s this?"

Clark beamed, looking from Lois to Y/N with a hint of nervous energy. "This is Y/N. We grew up together in Smallville."

"Smallville?" Lois’s eyebrow arched with clear interest. "Now that’s a place with some stories, I bet."

Jimmy, now peering at Y/N through the lens of his camera, quickly snapped a picture before lowering it with an apologetic grin. "Sorry, couldn’t resist. It’s a habit."

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "No worries. I’m used to it."

Lois leaned in, her curiosity clearly piqued. "So, Y/N, what was Clark like back in Smallville? I can only imagine."

Y/N glanced at Clark, who looked both hopeful and slightly anxious. "Clark and I were pretty much inseparable growing up," Y/N said with a smile, trying to keep the conversation light. "He was always the guy you could count on, the one who’d help you out of a jam and then offer you pie afterward."

Lois’s eyes twinkled with intrigue, clearly not ready to let the topic go. "Pie and jam, huh? Sounds like you two got into some interesting situations. Any fun stories you care to share?"

Y/N felt his heart rate pick up. He could sense the inquisitiveness behind Lois’s casual tone, the way she was gently probing for more. She was good—really good. "Oh, you know, small-town stuff," he said, forcing a chuckle. "Mostly just boring farm work and school."

Clark, sensing Y/N’s discomfort, quickly jumped in. "Yeah, nothing too exciting. Just your average childhood, right, Y/N?"

"Right," Y/N agreed, a bit too quickly. He could feel Lois’s eyes on him, studying him, and it made his magic stir uneasily. The last thing he wanted was for her to start asking more pointed questions that might lead her to the truth.

Lois didn’t miss a beat. "So, you two must have been really close, then. I bet you know all of Clark’s secrets," she said with a teasing smile, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. He forced another laugh, this one more strained. "Well, everyone’s got their secrets, right?"

Lois raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the subtle tension in Y/N’s voice. "True," she said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "But something tells me you’re not just any old friend from Smallville."

Clark, sensing that the conversation was veering into dangerous territory, let out a nervous laugh. "Lois, come on, don’t interrogate him on the first meeting!"

Jimmy, sensing the shift in tone, chimed in, grinning as he tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, Lois, ease up! You don’t want to scare off Clark’s oldest friend."

Lois gave a soft laugh, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll back off… for now."

Y/N smiled, but there was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t shake. Lois’s perceptiveness had always been one of her strengths, and it was clear she was picking up on more than he wanted to reveal.

"Seriously, though," Lois said, her tone softening as she gave Y/N a more genuine smile. "It’s good to meet you. Any friend of Clark’s is a friend of ours."

Y/N relaxed slightly, appreciating the warm reception despite his earlier nerves. "Thanks, Lois. I appreciate that."

As the conversation continued, Y/N found himself relaxing a bit more, though the earlier tension still lingered in the back of his mind. He knew he’d have to be careful around Lois—her curiosity and sharp instincts were not something to be underestimated.

Lois, ever the sharp-eyed reporter, leaned closer to Y/N. "So, what brings you to Metropolis? Work?"

"Yeah," Y/N nodded, "I got an offer I couldn’t turn down."

Lois nodded, impressed. "Well, welcome to the city. You know, we’re always looking for interesting people to feature in the Planet. Maybe we’ll run into each other more often."

"Maybe," Y/N said, feeling a bit more at ease. "It’s a small world after all."

Clark chuckled at that, his earlier nervousness fading as the conversation flowed more naturally. "I’m really glad we ran into each other, Y/N. We should definitely hang out more. I mean, if you’re not too busy with work."

Realistically, Y/N should have declined. He should have politely excused himself and gone home, putting an end to the whole thing. But when he looked at Clark, saw the hope and excitement in his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

All his nervous thoughts and reservations about what could happen if he allowed himself to get close to Clark again seemed to just fade to the back of his mind as he re-connected with him and got to know his two friends. A new familiar feeling also settled in place as well, but not so much nostalgia.

It was more of something he didn't even remember feeling. A sense of ease and comfort, his magic calm and feeling completely grounded. A feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time but something that wasn't new or unfamiliar, a very welcomed sensation and peace.

"I'd love to," Y/N said, his heart skipping a beat.

Clark's smile was brighter than the sun, and though Y/N knew he was in trouble just for that, emotions and impulse overtook his logic. Thus, he didn't really care.

As the night continued, Y/N found himself more at ease, the earlier tension gradually dissipating. Lois, ever the investigative reporter, kept throwing glances his way, but she seemed content for now, her curiosity temporarily satisfied. Jimmy, meanwhile, was snapping pictures of everything and everyone, his energy infectious.

Y/N had to admit, despite his initial apprehension, he was enjoying himself. The company was good, the conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was part of something. A small part of him wondered if this was what he had been missing—connection, camaraderie, a sense of belonging.

Clark leaned in closer, a warm smile on his face. "So, Y/N, how have you been? I mean, really been?"

Y/N paused, considering his answer. He could have brushed off the question, given a generic response about work being busy and life being hectic. But something about the way Clark asked, the genuine concern in his voice, made Y/N want to be honest.

"I’ve been… okay," Y/N said, the words coming out slower than he expected. "Moving to Metropolis has been a big change, but it’s good. I’m still finding my way, I guess."

Clark nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "I get that. Moving here was a big adjustment for me too. But you know, it helps when you’ve got friends around. People you can rely on."

Y/N smiled at that, a warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, it does."

Lois, sensing the shift in the conversation, jumped back in with her trademark curiosity. "So, Y/N, what exactly do you do for work? You mentioned an offer you couldn’t turn down."

Y/N hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. "I work in consulting," he said, keeping it vague. "It’s a bit of everything, really. I help businesses with strategy, operations, that sort of thing."

Lois’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not satisfied with the lack of detail, but she let it slide, for now. "That sounds interesting. Metropolis must be a great place for that kind of work."

"It is," Y/N replied, grateful she didn’t press further.

Jimmy, ever the enthusiastic one, suddenly popped up between them, holding out his camera. "Hey, how about a picture? You guys look great together!"

Y/N barely had time to react before Jimmy was positioning them for a shot, his camera clicking away. Clark chuckled, clearly used to Jimmy’s antics, while Lois struck a pose with practiced ease.

As they waited for the flash, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of surrealism wash over him. Here he was, reconnecting with an old friend, surrounded by new ones, in a city that was starting to feel less like a strange place and more like a potential home.

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and Jimmy grinned as he checked the screen. "Perfect! This one’s definitely going in the album."

Lois nodded in agreement, a smile on her face. "Yeah, this is one for the books. You’re officially part of the crew now, Y/N."

Y/N laughed, the sound genuine and light. "Well, I guess there’s no turning back now."

Clark’s smile was warm, his eyes shining with something that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. "I’m really glad you’re here, Y/N. It feels like old times."

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirl within him. "Yeah, it does."

As the evening drew on, the four of them continued to chat, the conversation flowing easily between light-hearted banter and more serious topics. Y/N felt a connection with Clark and his friends that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and for the first time since moving to Metropolis, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the moment.

But as the night wore on and the event began to wind down, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. Lois’s earlier questions had been harmless enough, but he knew her type—persistent, sharp, and always on the lookout for a story. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down too much, especially with his magic always threatening to reveal itself.

Yet, despite the risks, Y/N found himself wanting to spend more time with Clark, to catch up on the years they’d missed, and maybe even find a way to make this new life in Metropolis work. It was a dangerous line to walk, but for tonight, he was willing to take that risk.

As they all said their goodbyes and made plans to meet up again soon, Y/N felt a sense of contentment settle over him. Maybe this fresh start in Metropolis wouldn’t be as complicated as he feared. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to balance the old and the new, to keep his secrets while building something real with the people who were quickly becoming more than just acquaintances.

And maybe, this time, since he was older and more aware and mature, he could keep his feelings for Clark in check.

Yeah, that hope didn't last long.

Y/N sighed as he stared up at the ceiling of his apartment, reflecting on how quickly things had spiraled out of control since reconnecting with Clark. It had only been a few weeks, but in that short time, his life had become a whirlwind of old emotions, new challenges, and unexpected complications.

He’d spent more time with Clark, Lois, and Jimmy than he had anticipated. There were coffee runs, after-work dinners, and late-night brainstorming sessions where Lois would excitedly discuss her latest scoop while Jimmy showed off his latest photos. Clark, ever the supportive friend, would listen intently, adding his own insights with that same gentle warmth that had always made Y/N feel at ease.

Lois and Jimmy were friendly and welcoming, but Y/N could never fully relax around them. He still had to always be on guard, constantly aware of the magic simmering just beneath the surface.

And despite the camaraderie, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. It wasn’t just that he was trying to reintegrate into Clark’s life; it was the constant need to keep his magic under control, especially around Lois and Jimmy. The two of them were sharp—Lois, with her inquisitive nature, and Jimmy, with his keen eye for detail. They’d pick up on any slip-up, any sign that Y/N wasn’t just an ordinary guy from Smallville.

And then there were the moments of crisis—because Metropolis was never short on those. It seemed like every time Y/N was with the trio, something would happen. A runaway bus, a building fire, some random new villain on the loose—something always required Superman’s intervention. And every single time, Clark would disappear with a flimsy excuse, only for Superman to show up moments later.

The first time it happened, Y/N had been at a food truck with Clark and Jimmy, enjoying a rare sunny afternoon. They were laughing about something silly Jimmy had said when suddenly, the sound of screeching tires and panicked screams filled the air. Without missing a beat, Clark had mumbled something about needing to make a quick call and bolted, leaving Y/N standing there confused with Lois and Jimmy. Moments later, Superman was on the scene, saving the day like clockwork.

Lois and Jimmy had immediately sprung into action, Jimmy snapping photos while Lois started interviewing witnesses. They had been weirdly calm about the whole thing, a lot of things actually when Y/N thought about it. It was like Smallville all over again, things that should cause people to react with caution and apprehension, but instead, they barely blinked an eye.

It didn’t help that every time Clark returned, he looked winded and disheveled, and Lois would give him a knowing glance that made Y/N’s stomach twist with unease.

Meanwhile, he'd also been using his magic discreetly in these various scenarios to help keep people safe and minimize destruction and casualties. But in the chaos, he’d nearly been caught by Lois, who had turned around just as Y/N was subtly redirecting a beam of wood away from a trapped child.

“Hey, how’d you do that?” she’d asked, her sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Y/N had stammered out a weak excuse, something about adrenaline and luck, but he could tell Lois wasn’t convinced. She’d given him that look—the one that said she wasn’t done with him yet.

And it wasn’t the last time, either. Every time something happened, Y/N found himself using his magic to help, and every time, he came dangerously close to being caught by Lois. She was perceptive, and it was clear she was starting to get suspicious. Her questions about his past, about his connection to Clark, were getting more pointed, and Y/N could feel the pressure mounting.

But there was another element to this that Y/N hadn’t anticipated—jealousy. The more time he spent with the group, the more he noticed how close Clark and Lois were. It wasn’t just their professional partnership; it was the way they interacted, the easy banter, the shared looks, the inside jokes. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way Clark’s eyes lit up whenever Lois was around, how he seemed more at ease with her than anyone else.

It irritated Y/N more than he wanted to admit. He knew it was irrational—Clark was allowed to have close friends, and Lois was obviously important to him. But every time he saw them together, it felt like a thorn in his side, a constant reminder of how complicated things had become. It didn’t help that Lois was so naturally curious, always asking questions about his and Clark’s past, digging into their history with a relentless enthusiasm that made Y/N squirm.

And then there were the quiet moments—those rare instances when it was just Y/N and Clark, away from the chaos of the city. They’d talk about everything and nothing, slipping into the easy rhythm of their past friendship. But every time, Y/N felt the old feelings bubbling up, stronger than ever.

Like the night they’d gone for a walk along the Metropolis River. The city lights reflected off the water, casting a soft glow over everything. Clark had been unusually quiet, his hands tucked into his pockets as they strolled. Y/N had felt the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

“I’m glad you’re here, Y/N,” Clark had said suddenly, breaking the silence. “It’s like… it feels right, having you around again.”

Y/N had smiled, but it hadn’t reached his eyes. He wanted to say something—anything—that would match the sincerity in Clark’s voice, but the words had caught in his throat. Instead, he’d just nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart raced every time Clark looked at him like that.

But every time they were together, every time Clark smiled at him or brushed against him accidentally, Y/N felt his resolve weakening. It was getting harder to pretend that everything was fine, that he didn’t still have feelings for Clark.

And as they spent more time together, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder—did Clark feel it too? There were moments, subtle ones, where Y/N thought he saw something in Clark’s eyes, a lingering gaze, a soft smile that seemed meant just for him. But then Clark would pull back, or Lois would step in, and Y/N was left questioning if it was all in his head.

But now, lying on his couch and staring at the ceiling, Y/N couldn’t ignore it anymore. The old feelings hadn’t just resurfaced—they were drowning him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t fight.

It wasn’t just about Clark, though that was a huge part of it. It was the fear of what would happen if Clark—or worse, Lois and Jimmy—found out about his magic. They were all so caught up in their own world of secrets and dangers, and Y/N wasn’t sure if he could handle being part of it. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up the act much longer.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Clark: Hey, want to grab dinner with Lois and Jimmy? We’re thinking Thai.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before typing a quick reply: Sure, sounds good.

As he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking a tightrope, balancing between the life he had built for himself and the one he had left behind. And with every step, he was getting closer to falling off.

As Y/N walked to the restaurant, he kept his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying to calm the unease that had settled in his chest. He needed to get a grip, to find a way to keep his feelings in check before they, and thus his magic spiraled out of control. The last thing he wanted was for Clark to notice—or worse, for Lois to start asking questions.

By the time he reached the restaurant, Y/N had managed to push his anxiety down, forcing a smile as he spotted Clark, Lois, and Jimmy waiting outside. Clark waved him over, his smile as bright as ever.

"Hey, glad you could make it," Clark greeted him with his usual warm and bright tone.

"Heh, wouldn't miss it," Y/N chuckled, trying to keep his voice casual.

As they ate, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy dynamic between Lois and Clark. There was a familiarity there, an unspoken understanding that made Y/N’s chest tighten with a mix of jealousy and longing. He wanted to be part of that, to be as close to Clark as Lois was.

But then Lois turned to him, her sharp eyes studying him with that same curiosity he’d noticed at the gala. “So, Y/N, what was Clark like back in Smallville? He never talks much about his hometown.”

Y/N felt his pulse quicken. He shot a quick glance at Clark, who was suddenly very interested in his pad Thai.

“Oh, you know,” Y/N began, trying to keep his tone light, “just your average small-town kid. We spent a lot of time getting into trouble and trying to keep out of it.”

Lois raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the vague answer. “Really? I find that hard to believe. Clark’s practically the poster boy for responsibility.”

Y/N forced a laugh, trying to deflect Lois’s probing gaze. “Yeah, well, even poster boys have their moments. We were just kids, you know? Doing dumb stuff like exploring abandoned barns or sneaking out to the creek after dark. Nothing too wild.”

Lois leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing with that trademark inquisitiveness. “Come on, Y/N, you’re holding out on me. I want the juicy details. What kind of trouble did Clark get into?”

Y/N could feel the heat rising in his face, a mix of nerves, and the pressure of trying to avoid any slip-ups. “Honestly, it was mostly me dragging him into stuff. Clark was always the one keeping me out of serious trouble.”

Clark chuckled nervously, his eyes darting between Y/N and Lois. “Yeah, Y/N was always the adventurous one. I was just along for the ride.”

Jimmy, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. “I don’t know, Lois. I think Clark’s just good at covering his tracks. Bet he’s got a whole secret rebellious side we don’t know about.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Jimmy’s words, the irony of the statement not lost on him. If only they knew just how many secrets Clark was hiding—or how many he was keeping himself.

Lois, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. “I don’t doubt it,” she said, her eyes flicking back to Y/N with a knowing smile. “And I bet you’ve got some secrets of your own, Y/N. You seem like the type who’s good at keeping things under wraps.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second before he forced it back into place. “Who doesn’t have a few secrets?” he replied, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant.

Lois’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer, and Y/N could practically feel her trying to piece together the puzzle she was sure he was hiding. He shifted uncomfortably, desperate to change the subject.

“Anyway,” Y/N said, his voice a bit too loud in his haste to redirect the conversation, “what about you guys? You’ve all been working together for a while now. Any crazy stories from the Daily Planet?”

Clark gave him a grateful smile, clearly relieved at the change in topic. “Oh, you know, it’s mostly just chasing down leads and trying to stay out of trouble ourselves.”

Lois smirked. “Mostly. There have been a few close calls, though. Like that time we were covering that gala and—”

But before she could continue, there was a sudden commotion outside the restaurant. The sound of screeching tires and shouting filled the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of something crashing into a building.

Clark’s expression immediately shifted to one of concern. “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he mumbled, already moving toward the door.

Moments later, Superman was on the scene, and Y/N found himself once again in the midst of a crisis, trying to discreetly use his magic to help those around him. He directed falling debris away from pedestrians, subtly reinforced a crumbling wall, and calmed panicked civilians—all while trying to stay out of Lois’s line of sight.

As Y/N moved through the chaos, he couldn’t help but keep one eye on Lois. She was already pulling out her phone, likely trying to reach out to sources or start documenting the scene for the Daily Planet. But more than once, Y/N caught her glancing his way, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she were trying to figure something out.

It didn’t help that every time Y/N used his magic, Lois seemed to notice something was off. Like when he subtly redirected a falling streetlight away from a group of bystanders, Lois had been nearby and had whipped around, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Y/N standing there, his hand half-raised.

“Where, how did you—” she started, but Y/N cut her off quickly.

“Uh, just lucky timing,” he said, flashing what he hoped was a convincing grin.

Lois didn’t look convinced, but before she could press further, another explosion rocked the area as Superman swooped across the sky in a fight with some new villain. Lois’s attention was immediately drawn away as she dashed off to get closer to the action, leaving Y/N with a brief moment of relief.

But it was short-lived. He could feel the weight of his secret bearing down on him, the fear that at any moment, Lois would start putting the pieces together. She was too perceptive, too determined to uncover the truth, and Y/N was running out of excuses.

Y/N’s heart pounded as he watched Lois dart away, her focus now on Superman’s battle overhead. The city block was in chaos—buildings crumbling, cars overturned, and terrified civilians running for cover. Y/N could feel the familiar tingle of his magic, urging him to act, but he hesitated. He was too exposed, too close to Lois and Jimmy, who were both still in the thick of things, trying to stay safe while getting their story.

But then he saw it—a mother and her young child, trapped beneath a fallen piece of debris, their terrified cries cutting through the noise. Without thinking, Y/N moved. He knew he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Darting through the chaos, he reached the trapped pair, his heart racing. The chunk of concrete pinning them was far too heavy for him to lift on his own, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He pretended to struggle with it for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one was watching too closely. Then, with a whispered incantation, he let his magic flow, lifting the debris just enough for the mother to pull her child to safety.

“Go! Get out of here!” Y/N urged them, and they didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled to their feet and ran, not looking back.

But as Y/N released his grip on the concrete, allowing it to crash back to the ground, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He turned just in time to see Lois standing a few feet away, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

“Y/N…” she started, her voice barely audible over the sounds of destruction around them. “How did you—”

Before she could finish, a loud crash interrupted her, drawing their attention to the ongoing battle above. Superman was locked in a fierce struggle with the villain, who was wielding some kind of energy weapon that was tearing through the city with reckless abandon.

Lois hesitated for a split second, torn between confronting Y/N and rushing to cover the story. The journalist in her won out, and she turned to run towards the action, but not before shooting Y/N one last look, a promise that this conversation wasn’t over.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, but there was no time to dwell on what Lois had seen. The battle was escalating, and the destruction was growing worse by the second. He knew he had to do more, had to use his magic more openly if he wanted to save lives. The fear of exposure warred with his instinct to help, but his desire to help won out.

As Y/N wove his way through the chaos, he could feel his magic surging within him, responding to his need to act. With each subtle spell, he could feel the pressure mounting, the risk of being discovered growing with every passing moment. But he couldn't stop, not when so many lives were at stake.

As Y/N moved through the chaos, helping people where he could, he lost himself in the urgency of the moment. He pulled a child out of harm's way, extinguished small fires with a flick of his wrist, and used his magic to steady a teetering scaffold that was threatening to collapse onto a group of bystanders. Every action was instinctual, his focus so intense that he didn’t even notice how close he was getting to the epicenter of the danger.

Meanwhile, Superman was engaged in a fierce battle with the villain, their clash sending shockwaves through the city. Clark’s attention was divided, trying to subdue the threat while keeping an eye on his friends below. But in the midst of the fight, he noticed Y/N inching dangerously close to the conflict.

“Y/N, get back!” Superman shouted, his voice strained with panic as he saw Y/N unwittingly step into the path of a collapsing billboard that had been dislodged during the battle.

Time seemed to slow as Clark realized he wouldn’t reach Y/N in time, especially with his opponent actively trying to block his way. His heart pounded in his chest, fear gripping him like a vice. But just as the massive billboard was about to crush him, Y/N’s instincts kicked in.

Without even thinking, Y/N threw up his hands, and a powerful force field erupted around him, deflecting the billboard away and sending it crashing harmlessly to the ground. The magic burst out of him like a tidal wave, raw and unfiltered, saving him in the nick of time.

The impact of what had just happened hit Y/N all at once. He stood there, breathless and trembling, staring at the spot where the billboard had fallen. His heart raced as he realized how close he’d come to being crushed—and how easily he had saved himself with powers.

Superman, who had seen the entire event unfold, hovered in the air, momentarily stunned. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Y/N had powers—real, undeniable powers. And in that instant, a dozen memories from their time together in Smallville flashed through his mind, moments that suddenly made sense in a new, startling way.

The villain took advantage of Superman’s distraction, launching one final attack. But Superman, fueled by a surge of determination, quickly regained focus. With a swift, powerful strike, he knocked the villain off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious and defeated.

The battle was over, but the tension in the air was far from dissipated.

Superman landed softly on the ground, his eyes never leaving Y/N. The adrenaline from the fight was still coursing through him, but now it was mixed with a cocktail of emotions—shock, confusion, and something deeper, something more personal.

Y/N looked up, locking eyes with Superman for the first time. The two of them stood there, surrounded by the remnants of the battle, but it felt as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

“Y/N,” Superman began, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. He took a step forward, but before he could say more, Lois and Jimmy rushed over, their faces a mix of concern and relief.

Superman took a step toward Y/N, his mind racing with questions, but before he could say more, Lois and Jimmy rushed over, their faces a mix of concern and urgency.

"Superman," Lois called out, her voice edged with urgency as she glanced around. "We’re in the middle of the street. People are starting to notice."

Jimmy nodded, his camera hanging by his side as he scanned the area. “Yeah, maybe we should take this somewhere a little less… public.”

Superman blinked, realizing the gravity of the situation. There were indeed a few onlookers, phones out, capturing the aftermath of the battle. The last thing he needed was more attention, especially with Y/N’s secret now out in the open.

He turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with both concern and determination. “Y/N, we need to talk. But not here. Do you trust me?”

Y/N, still shaken from everything that had happened, hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Superman gave him a small, reassuring smile before glancing back at Lois and Jimmy. “I’ll explain everything later, but right now, I need to get Y/N out of here.”

Lois gave a curt nod, understanding the need for discretion. “We’ll cover for you. Just… be careful.”

Jimmy shot Y/N a quick thumbs-up, though his expression was tinged with curiosity and concern. “We’ll handle the crowd. Go.”

With a final nod, Superman wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, holding him securely. “Hold on tight.”

Before Y/N could fully process what was happening, they were airborne, the ground falling away as Superman lifted them into the sky. The wind rushed past them as they soared above the city, the chaos of the battle below quickly becoming a distant memory.

Y/N clung to Superman, his heart racing not just from the flight but from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had just unfolded. He had always admired Superman from afar, but now, being so close, knowing that this was Clark—it was almost too much to take in.

They flew in silence, the cityscape sprawling out beneath them, until finally, Superman began to descend, landing gently on the rooftop of the Daily Planet building. The iconic globe loomed above them, casting long shadows in the setting sun.

Superman set Y/N down carefully, stepping back to give him space. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them.

Clark, still in his Superman suit but with the familiar warmth of his old friend in his eyes, took a step closer. “I know. It’s a lot to take in. For both of us.”

Y/N nodded, his mind racing with a thousand questions. “So, you're Superman?”

A faint blush along with his nervous smile appeared on his face, a glimpse of the boy Y/N had known. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

A moment of silence passed before Y/N spoke again, "I really don't get how people don't catch on faster. The only visible difference is the glasses," he said, gesturing to the frames on Clark's face.

Clark looked confused for a moment, "Wait, huh? Did you know?"

"Well, not for sure. But I had my suspicions. I mean, the glasses, the timing of your disappearances, the fact that you were never around whenever Superman showed up... it wasn't exactly hard to put the pieces together. But, I didn't know until I saw you up close. Until now, whenever you were Superman, I wasn't close enough to get a good look. Then, you were right in front of me, and well, it was like, 'Oh yeah, that makes complete sense,'" Y/N admitted, rambling a little.

"Oh," was all Clark could manage, a sheepish look on his face.

"Why did you never tell me?" Y/N asked, his voice soft.

Clark sighed, his expression conflicted. "I wanted to, believe me. But it's not exactly something I can just go around telling people. And after everything that happened back in Smallville, I didn't want to put you in any more danger. I guess, we were both keeping secrets."

Y/N paused for a moment, now realizing the irony of the situation before laughing under his breath, "Sneaky little bastard strikes again."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, just a little joke to myself," Y/N explained, before pausing and looking at his friend, taking in his entire superhero appearance, "Wow, looking at you now, and thinking back to everything, everything now makes so much sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you being able to stop cars without getting injured. Or people always calling your parents to ask for you when their tractor was broken down. And that time you and Suzy were playing in Old Man Ferris's field and he almost mowed her over with the shredder but you saved her and broke the shredder in the process. I always thought it was weird, but now, it's obvious," Y/N said, his tone a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"I mean, it could've just been weak metal," Clark tried to argue, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed his embarrassment.

"Clark, no offense, but anyone else verse that shredder would've been minced meat. And yet, one run-in with you and it had been totaled with no chance of repair. Which, did he ever get a new one?"

"Yeah, the town all chipped in to get him one while my parents got him insurance on it for a year as an apology."

"Hmm, you know for the amount of weird things that have gone on in that town between you and me alone, you'd think someone would've said something or freaked out," Y/N commented, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well, Smallville is a weird place," Clark chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"That it is," Y/N agreed, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

Clark cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess things also make sense for you too. All those times that lights and power in school went out after you got angry, things disappearing and reappearing in random places, and that one time you got in an argument with a squirrel. Can you talk to animals with your powers?"

"Okay, first of all, we didn't have to bring that specific instance up. You remember everyone made fun of me for like a month after that happened. And either way, that squirrel had it coming," Y/N said, a slight pout on his face.

"It was a squirrel, Y/N."

"And it was a jerk!"

"How was it a jerk?"

"It kept throwing acorns at me and always running at me like it wanted to fight. I can't understand animals naturally unless there's a spell for it that I just haven't figured out, but they do seem to gravitate towards me for whatever reason. But, that squirrel had it out for me since freshman year and I was just trying to defend myself," Y/N argued, his voice taking on a slightly whiny tone.

"By arguing with it?"

"Well, yes," Y/N said, crossing his arms, "But, it was a very heated argument."

"If you say so," Clark laughed, his eyes bright with amusement.

Clark's laughter filled the air, and for a moment, it felt like they were back in Smallville, two friends joking around like they used to. But the reality of their situation quickly settled back in, and the weight of everything that had happened—everything that had been revealed—hung between them.

"So, magic," Clark said after a beat, his tone more serious. "I can't believe you were hiding that all these years."

Y/N shrugged, looking down at his feet. "It wasn't exactly something I could just go around telling people. Especially not in Smallville. I barely understood it myself, and my parents were terrified of what might happen if anyone found out. They were always worried that some government agency would swoop in and take me away if I ever slipped up."

Clark nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that. My parents had similar fears about me. We were both trying to protect each other, in our own way."

"Yeah," Y/N agreed quietly. He glanced up at Clark, a hesitant smile on his face. "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? Both of us with these...abilities and we never knew about each other."

Clark smiled back, but there was something in his eyes—something that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. "I wish I had known," Clark said softly. "Maybe things would have been different."

"Maybe," Y/N echoed, the word hanging in the air between them.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the kind that only old friends could share. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the city. Y/N found himself getting lost in the moment, in the quiet presence of his friend, the tension of the past few weeks slowly ebbing away.

But then Clark spoke again, his voice filled with an emotion that Y/N couldn't quite place. "You know, I've always felt like there was something more between us. Even back then."

Y/N's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Clark, his eyes searching his friend's face for any sign that he might be joking, but all he saw was sincerity. "What do you mean?"

Clark hesitated as if trying to find the right words. "I mean... I've always cared about you, Y/N. More than just as a friend."

The confession hung in the air, and Y/N's heart pounded in his chest. He had dreamed of hearing those words for so long, but now that they were here, he didn't know how to respond. His feelings for Clark had been buried deep for years, hidden away to protect both himself and their friendship.

"Clark, I..." Y/N began, but his voice faltered. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I care about you too. A lot. But this—" He gestured to the city below them, to Superman’s suit, to everything around them. "This is complicated. Our lives are so different now."

Clark stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I know it’s complicated. But maybe we can figure it out together."

Y/N looked into Clark's eyes, seeing the hope and the warmth there, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. He thought about all the things they had been through, the secrets they had kept, the bond that had never really broken despite the years and the distance.

He smiled softly, his heart finally settling into a steady rhythm. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clark's smile was brighter than the sunset behind him, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight. For the first time in a long while, things felt right. Complicated, yes, but right.

But before they could say anything more, the door to the rooftop burst open, and Lois and Jimmy came rushing in, both looking out of breath and a little frantic.

"Clark! Y/N!" Lois called out, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. "You guys okay? We’ve been looking everywhere for you."

"Yeah, we’re fine," Clark said, quickly stepping back from Y/N, though he couldn’t quite hide the smile on his face.

Jimmy glanced between the two of them, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, you guys really should be more careful. The paparazzi would have a field day if they caught Superman having a heart-to-heart with some random guy on a rooftop."

Lois rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. "He's right. We should get off this rooftop before someone spots us."

Clark looked at Y/N, his expression a mix of reluctance and agreement. "Yeah, you're right." He turned back to Y/N, his voice softening. "We'll talk more later, okay?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness about what that conversation would bring. "Yeah, later."

With that, they all made their way back down to the city, where the chaos of the day had finally settled. But even as they stepped back into the world, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between them.

And for the first time, he was ready to see where it would lead.

☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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simmerianne93 · 11 months ago

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[Simmerianne93]Conversation_poses_36_V1

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Hello everyone. I hope you are all doing well!!

I want to apologize for my absence the last few weeks. I haven't been feeling well emotionally so I took a couple of days off from even sitting down at the computer to play or do some poses, and when I was going to get back to posting what I had already planned, I got sick with a lot of fever, headaches and body aches, so I had to extend my time away. Then, a couple of days ago a close relative passed away so it hasn't been an easy few weeks.

Starting today and in the remaining days of the month I will be posting the corresponding poses for the month and if there are any posepack left to post, they will be the first ones for next month. I will also be posting in a couple of days the usual post of what is coming next month, so don't worry, I will continue posting poses as always.

However, I must warn you that next month there may be less pose packs because I will be working on the poses for October and Simblreen. I'm excited about it but it will be hard work and to have it on time, I need time haha... anyway, I hope you understand and I hope that you like what I'll bring for you all... and again I apologize for my long absence this month.

By the way, the surveys already have a result, thank you so much to everyone who was able to participate! They have been interesting results, but I'll talk about that better in the "coming soon" post.

Now... about the poses:

Lately I'm in my time of watching a lot of k-dramas and, watching one of those, I was inspired to make this package: a conversation between two characters who don't get along very well but who need to talk to solve a common issue. The poses I made are nothing like the scene that inspired me to make it haha but hey, still, I think it can be quite useful for those who tell their stories through poses. I think there are never enough conversation poses and much less argument poses. So here you have one more little sequence.

This posepack comes with two versions. In this post you have Version 1 (V1), which takes place on a park bench. For this I used a 3-seat bench from the base game. And Version 2 (V2) can be downloaded here and are the same poses but adapted to work with the 3-seat Hipster Sofa from the base game.

These poses have the peculiarity that the characters' arms rest on the back of the seat, so my recommendation is to use the object with which they have been made because otherwise, there will be glitches with cuts or floats arms in some of the poses. However, it is up to each one of you how to use them.

I hope you like them and find them useful.

Stay tuned tomorrow for more poses!

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What is on it?

9 duo poses (made with two male rigs) + 2 all in one.

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What do you need?

Andrew's poses player

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo.

Basegame 3sits basic park bench.

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Instructions in the original post.

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TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

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Download it now here — [EARLY ACCESS until September 15th, 2024]

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If you want to support me: Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest | Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr

Lives and videos: Youtube

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

#poses #ts4 #simmerianne93 #sims4poses #thesims4 #posesforsims #sims4 #thesims #ts4poses #creator content #duoposes #conversationposes #discussionposes

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thelazyhermits · 9 months ago

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Because I had so much fun with my last Skully drabble, I decided to make another one, although this one doesn't take place during the TWST 2024 JPN Halloween event, so the only spoilers here are Skully himself and how he feels about the person he's based on.

Rather than write a scene from the event, I decided to have this drabble take place in an AU where Skully becomes a member of Ramshackle Dorm after the event since I thought that'd be fun. Also, while it's not outright stated, Skully is wearing normal glasses here since I like that popular fan theory, and I want his pretty eyes to be visible.

Lastly, although my Yuu is female, her gender isn't mentioned in this drabble, so Reader is technically G/N here.

“Yuu-san!”

Much to your surprise, just after you come downstairs and enter your dorm’s lounge, you hear Skully, who sounds both excited and incredibly relieved for some reason, call out to you.

Seconds later, Skully, who had dashed from his seat on the closest couch over to your current position, throws his arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

Once you overcome your surprise, you chuckle as you return his embrace. “Silly boy, you act like it’s been a while since we last saw each other, even though it was only a few hours ago that I saw off you and everyone else who had wanted to play some after school Spelldrive.”

When you look up at the much taller boy’s face, he pouts, “While that is technically true, I hardly saw you today due to us having different classes, and the few times we were together were far too short.”

His pout deepens. “And the last several days were much the same, because you’ve been sequestering yourself inside your room every day during your free time. That’s why it feels like it has been a while since I last got to enjoy your wonderful company.”

“Skully…” You murmur as you stare at him in surprise, not expecting to see such a lonely expression on your friend’s face.

As his grip on you tightens, Skully sadly frowns, “As of late, Grim-san and the others have been frequently inviting me to join in various types of activities, and while I am most delighted to spend time with my new friends, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps one of the reasons they’ve been extending so many invitations to me these last several days is to keep me away from you.”

“Could it be that I've unintentionally upset you in some way?” He asks, “Or perhaps my lack of popularity with the majority of my new schoolmates has resulted in a large amount of undue stress being put on your shoulders?”

“If I’ve upset you, I sincerely apologize, and I also apologize for being such a burden while I’ve been acclimating to my new life here at NRC.” Skully continues, “I swear, I will do whatever is necessary to make amends, so please…”

“Please don’t distance yourself from me.” He quietly pleads, “Being apart from you, my very first friend, is most agonizing, and I do not want to return to the life I lived prior to meeting you…”

Your chest painfully clenches when you hear those heartbreaking words. “Oh, Skully…”

Catching him by surprise, you gently cup his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Skully. If I had known you would misunderstand my actions to this degree, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to surprise you with your welcome gift.”

His earlier pained expression immediately disappears as surprise dawns his features. “Welcome gift?”

Nodding, you smile as you gently stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. “Since you’re the first student to join Ramshackle Dorm since me and Grim started living here, I wanted to prepare a special present to welcome you to our dorm.”

“Grim and the others all know what I’ve been doing, and they agreed to keep you preoccupied, so my surprise for you wouldn’t get spoiled.” You continue, “I also wanted to make sure you weren’t neglected while I was so busy since I know you’re still getting used to life here, and I didn’t want my absence to cause you any stress.”

Your smile fades as your expression becomes guilty. “But I obviously completely failed with that endeavor. I’m sorry for making you lonely, Skully, and for making you think you did something wrong when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

Once he overcomes his surprise, Skully emphatically shakes his head as he gently rests a hand over one of your hands that’s still cupping his face. “You have no reason to apologize, Yuu-san! I should be the one apologizing for my horrible misunderstanding!”

After gently removing your hand from his face, Skully tenderly kisses your knuckles. “Even though you were working so hard for my sake, I let myself foolishly believe you were like my past schoolmates and selfishly complained like a spoiled child. I’m ashamed of myself. Please forgive me.”

Just as you’re about to tell him that the only one at fault here is you, you stop yourself, because, if you say something like that, you know the two of you will just continue apologizing and blaming yourselves since that’s just the kind of people you and Skully are.

Since you really want to avoid that and you’re sure Skully feels similarly, you instead say, “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me. Deal?”

A broad, relieved smile rises to his lips as the tension in his frame eases. “Deal.”

His smile unfortunately doesn’t last for long, however, due to his gaze focusing on the bags underneath your eyes, which he is seeing for the first time thanks to you having removed the makeup you had previously been wearing to hide them.

Upon seeing Skully’s worried expression, you immediately find yourself regretting your decision to remove your makeup, so you could wash your face with cold water in order to rid yourself of some of the drowsiness that had been plaguing you all day since you put that makeup on in the first place to avoid worrying him like this.

After releasing his hold on your hand, Skully moves to gently cup your cheek and softly strokes the area underneath your right eye, frowning all the while. “Have you been forgoing sleep on my account, Yuu-san? I can’t say I approve, no matter how grateful I am for you being willing to go to such great lengths for my sake.”

“Nothing should ever be more important than your own well-being, which is far more precious to me than any kind of physical gift you could possibly give me.” He quietly adds.

With a guilty wince, you wrap your arms around him to give him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry, Skully. You’re right.”

As you lean into his touch, you continue, “Honestly, I really didn’t mean to give up sleep to work on your present. I just got so absorbed in my work that I ended up losing track of time, which is a bad habit of mine.”

You kiss his hand that’s still cupping your face before giving him a smile. “But I’m all done now with your present. I finished making the final touches right before I came downstairs, so you don’t need to worry anymore. I promise I’ll go to bed early tonight to make up for the sleep I lost.”

Appearing noticeably relieved, Skully brings his face closer to yours, so he can tenderly kiss the bags underneath your eyes. “I pray that you have nothing but the sweetest of dreams tonight, my beloved.”

A pleasant warmth envelops your chest in response to his affection-filled words and actions, which do a perfect job of showcasing just how much your friend cares about you.

Unable to help yourself, you take advantage of his close proximity and kiss his cheek. “I have no doubt I’ll have nothing but great dreams thanks to you. Thank you, Skully.”

As always, despite him always being so quick to kiss others, Skully becomes visibly flustered when on the receiving end of your kisses, although you can tell he’s also really happy since he loves these types of exchanges just as much as you do.

After taking a moment to admire his adorable, flustered face, you grin, “Since I’m all done with your welcome gift, how about you go take a seat while I go get it for you? I’m eager to see your reaction to what I put together for you.”

In an instant, Skully’s previous embarrassment disappears as he becomes noticeably excited. “I would love that! I am positively brimming with excitement since I know a gift from you is sure to be just as wonderful as yourself!”

Your grin grows. “You always say such sweet things, Skully. I love that about you.”

Once that’s decided, you and Skully finally pull apart, so you can head back upstairs to retrieve his gift.

Before you leave the lounge, however, you curiously ask, “By the way, where’s Grim? Did you get tired of playing Spelldrive with him and the others and come back on your own?”

Skully winces, “Ah, about that…You see…”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, your friend hesitates before finally explaining, “While we were playing, Grim-san accidentally threw the Spelldrive disk at a window and broke it, and when Ace-san and Deuce-san tried to fix the damage that was done with their magic, they unfortunately ended up exacerbating the damage.”

You face-palm. “In other words, you’re here now ‘cause those three are currently getting lectured by Riddle-senpai, who found out what happened before they could fix the mess they made.”

He nods. “Yes, exactly. As if somehow sensing that trouble was afoot, Riddle-san hurried onto the scene while Grim-san and the others were panicking and promptly made them all lose their heads.”

“Fortunately, I was spared because I had briefly left the scene to fetch a broom since I had wanted to take care of the glass before someone accidentally hurt themselves, and I currently don’t have any cleaning spells in my repertoire.” Skully adds.

All you can do is sigh. “If only my knucklehead sons could act more maturely like you, Skully, then I wouldn’t have to worry about them so much. Those three are such a handful…”

With a shake of your head, you head for the stairs. “Oh well, at least I don’t have to worry about dealing with them right now since I can just leave those knuckleheads in Riddle-senpai’s capable hands.”

While Skully chuckles, you hurry back to your room to collect the box that contains what you’ve been working on these last several days.

After setting the bow-covered lid on top of the previously open box, you head back downstairs with the present and meet back up with Skully, who’s once again sitting on one of the lounge couches.

Much to your amusement, Skully is practically vibrating, proving just how excited he is about the special surprise you put together for him.

Grinning, you set the box you had been holding down onto his lap. “Once again, welcome to Ramshackle Dorm, Skully. I hope you enjoy your welcome gift.”

He beams, “I have no doubt that I will since it’s a gift from you! Thank you very much, Yuu-san!”

Wanting a good view of his face when he sees what’s inside the box, you remain standing as you eagerly watch Skully remove the box’s lid.

And, of course, his reaction upon seeing the contents of the box does not disappoint.

Skully releases a loud, dramatic gasp. “Jack-sama?!”

All you can do is grin upon witnessing his excited, almost theatrical reaction. “There it is. The reaction I’ve been so eagerly anticipating these last several days. I’m glad it was just as cute as I had hoped it'd be.”

The elated boy, who now has actual tears of joy in his eyes, reverently holds up the Jack Skellington plushie that had previously been inside the box. “This is stunning! Absolutely spectacular! I’m overcome with emotion just by staring at Jack-sama’s splendid figure! Your sewing skills are unparalleled, Yuu-san!”

You giggle, “Thank you. I’m happy you feel that way. I worked really hard to make a plushie that looked as much like Jack Skellington as possible since I knew I couldn’t do him a disservice when making this plushie for his number one fan.”

“Because I know how much you love Jack Skellington, I decided the best gift I could give you was your very own Jack Skellington merch.” You continue, “That’s why I decided to make that plushie and a pillow that looks like his face.”

“Regarding the t-shirt that’s also inside the box, I didn’t make the whole thing from scratch.” You add, “I just bought a plain, black shirt and then decorated it all over with Jack-san’s face. I added in Zero as well ‘cause he’s just so cute, and I couldn’t help myself.”

Smiling, you reach over to gently stroke the top of Jack’s head. “Considering your room right now looks a little bare and doesn’t have much of your personal touch yet, I thought it’d be nice to give you some things that you could decorate your room with since I want you to be as comfortable as possible while you’re here.”

Faster than you can react, Skully sets the box in his lap to the side after setting down the Jack Skellington plushie and proceeds to pull you into his lap, catching you by surprise.

Your surprise only grows when, after pulling you into an incredibly tight hug, Skully gives your cheek the kind of fervorous kiss that would surely bring many people to their knees almost instantaneously.

“Ah~ Whatever shall I do?” Skully affectionately nuzzles the cheek he just kissed. “No matter how much gratitude and adoration I pour into a kiss, it simply isn’t enough to express how overjoyed and thankful I am for this spectacular gift.”

A pleasant warmth envelops your chest as you wrap your arms around him. “Don’t worry, your feelings are getting through to me just fine. You’ve made it loud and clear that my special surprise was a total success.”

“While I am pleased to hear that, I am still not satisfied.” Skully replies as he gently cups your face and begins tenderly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “A lovely angel such as yourself deserves far more for all of the kindness you have so graciously bestowed upon me.”

The warmth inside your chest intensifies when you see his incredibly tender expression and the pure adoration in his eyes. “Skully…”

Before you can tell him that he really doesn’t need to do anything else when the loving look he’s currently giving you is more than enough of a reward for all your efforts, Skully beams, “That is why I intend to completely shower you with my love and gratitude for the rest of the day!”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, for the next week at the very least! Only then will I come close to properly conveying all of these passionate emotions that are currently overwhelming me to the point I feel as if I could erupt at any given moment!”

You blink in surprise before your expression becomes incredibly fond. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess I can’t stop you since you obviously need an outlet for those powerful emotions, and I need to take responsibility for being the cause of them.”

Grinning, you loop your arms around Skully’s neck before kissing his cheek. “Let’s make up for all the time we couldn’t hang out these last several days, shall we? After all, you’re not the only one who missed spending time together.”

His expression becomes a mixture of flustered and elated. “That sounds like a most wonderful idea!”

Your grin grows. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

Because there's nothing you love more than getting to spend quality time with the people whom you love most. Nothing else could ever compare.

And that's a fact.

#twisted wonderland #twst #my writing #fortune in twisted wonderland #twst halloween spoilers #twst spoilers #twst jp spoilers #skully j graves #twst x reader #platonic skully j graves x reader

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fuzzypandapants · 4 months ago

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Sorry for my very long absence. I've been taking an extended break for mental health reasons, and I really don't know when I'll be back. Apologies. 🙏😥 I love you all so much. 💙

In the meantime, if you'd like a way to help out, please consider sharing my top surgery gofundme.

There is absolutely no pressure to donate, because I know times are tough and we're all kind of in the shit heep right now. But a share or even just a like is very much appreciated.

ty 💙

#gofundme #top surgery #top surgery fund #top surgery gofundme #gender affirming care #ftm #ftm top surgery #crowdfunding #nonbinary #demiboy #transmasc #transmasculine #transgender

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chronicallyqueercoining2 · 3 days ago

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Hey I'm so very sorry! I had a very rough breakup, my cousin is a missing person, my mental health is suffering a lot, and there's a lot happening in our personal life rn. The hiatus is longer than expected. It had also been our birthday (when we intended on coining) but our family and some friends forgot our birthday, so that did not help. Rn just trying to get the treatment we need. I apologize for the inconvenience our extended absence is causing.

(Wanted to explain as we'd recieved hostility from some ppl on here and wanted to apologize, we didn't mean to mislead anyone into believing we were coming back sooner than we were. We intended on returning but. Life happens, unfortunately.)

#chronicallyqueercoining #cqc chats #so sorry

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falesiastuff · 9 days ago

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Whispers of souls - second Chapter ending!!

Hi! I finally managed to finish this chapter with a lot of hiccups, unfortunately. I decided to switch to writing, cause the full comics became too much for me. But I wanted to continue this story, so here we are! I'm not a writer, and I want to thank @kirain and @sofiemystique for the editing. Without their help, this final part wouldn't be so good! Thank you, friends! Here is an illustration I created for the chapter. P.S. Something about mental health can be sensitive for some of you, keep it in mind, please.

The carriage jolted to a stop in front of a massive historiated iron gate, flanked by two braziers of Fade Fire and statues of human mummies with their arms crossed over their chests. A woman stood waiting before the open gate, which revealed a path leading to what Kate assumed was the heart of the academy.

Wiping away tears and the blood that had dripped from her face, Kate peered through the small window, pulling the curtain aside. She didn't recognize the woman standing there—dark-skinned, stiff, and composed. Lady Rosfort had not deigned to offer any explanation for her presence. Kate could only assume she was someone of influence, likely come to greet her.

She shot a sidelong glance at the Baroness, who stared back at her.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? I've no intention of staying longer than necessary. You don't expect me to walk you to the door, do you?"

"Of course not..." Kate whispered, gritting her teeth.

At least soon she'd be free of the woman's oppressive presence. Her absence would be an illusion, sure—but at least they wouldn't be under the same roof. All Kate wanted was to put as much distance between herself and that viper as possible.

She took the small bag containing her few belongings, stood, opened the carriage door, and stepped out. The dark-skinned woman approached with a small, sweet smile of welcome.

"Good evening. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You must be Lady Kate Erilan, yes? My name is Myrna, and I'm the rector of Nevarra Academy. Welcome to our home. I hope your journey was safe and uneventful."

Kate wrapped one arm around herself, gripping the other at her side. She couldn't help but wonder how much of that welcome was sincere—and how much was part of some ploy.

"Yes, that's me. The pleasure is mine, Lady Myrna."

"Oh, please, the honorary 'Lady' is not necessary. Myrna is more than enough."

"Ah... all right." Kate looked at the woman sideways.

Were the people in Nevarra different?

"I would like to pay my respects to your guardian, Lady Rosfort. Did she come here with you?"

Kate turned her head slightly toward the carriage. The Baroness had clearly chosen not to show herself, remaining inside, cloaked in shadow. It was obvious she didn't want to reveal her presence—perhaps because doing so might compromise her. It would've been so easy to tell Myrna she was there... a perfect opportunity for a little revenge.

But then the memory surged: the electric shock, the convulsions wracking her body. Kate shivered. No—better not. She knew she'd pay for it later. And bitterly.

"Unfortunately, the Baroness was indisposed. Many engagements required her attention, preventing her from accompanying me. She offers her apologies and sends her greetings."

Myrna blinked, staring at Kate for a long moment.

"Oh, too bad. I would've liked to meet her. But I understand—she's a very influential and busy woman, and I myself am often rather occupied. Now, allow me to accompany you inside and show you to your quarters. You must be exhausted from the journey, and I imagine you'd like to rest."

So saying, Myrna stepped aside, one arm extended toward the gate in polite invitation.

Kate lingered. The ominous style of the entrance didn't inspire much confidence. Stories of the Necropolis and the Mortalitasi drifted through her mind—bleak, lugubrious tales steeped in death and old rites. She wasn't eager to step into that world of shadows. Death already surrounded her in too many ways. And involving them ... that strange, refined man, Professor Emmrich Volkarin.

But she had no choice. For now, she had to stick to the script. Continue to read it on AO3. All previous comics pages and first chapter here

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swagammemnon · 1 year ago

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Caught in Honey

Prev | Chp 3

Ao3

Fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you try to ignore the nerves trying to eat at your stomach. John reassured you that you had nothing to worry about, just a couple of idiots on leave hanging around the base. You've been there a few times; surprised John with lunch or bringing whatever he'd forgotten at your place. Or if he had to stay late, you brought him a few creature comforts. And maybe a quickie or two.

But you've never met his teammates. They've always cleared out post-mission relatively quickly after the paperwork was done to their own little corners. To lick their wounds or make the most of their leave.

Or sleeping.

So, having John’s bear paw spread out over your thigh while he drives the both of you to base for the explicit purpose of meeting them has you a bit… antsy.

“Jus’ a couple idiots, love,” John rumbles after passing the ID checkpoint, gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing to worry about, hmm?”

You smile at your boyfriend, warmth spreading in your chest. He’s almost too good to you sometimes, reads you too easily. You splay your hand over his, letting out a tense sigh as he drives down the main thoroughfare, past the barracks and the gym. On the track, a small unit is doing laps.

John's office and his team's private quarters are nearly on the opposite side of base, a five minute drive from the entrance. His thumb flicks idly over your knuckles the whole time as you take in the base in springtime. It’s quiet and easy, John’s mere presence a warm cocoon around you—though it’s possibly augmented due to your time apart. More palpable after its absence. You don’t mind.

“Come on, love,” comes John’s deep voice as he helps you down from his truck. You can’t help but bite your lip as he tucks your hand in the crook of his elbow like a proper gentleman. Such cordial, old-timey displays still make heat rush to your cheeks—you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. You squeeze his bicep, bathing in the sensation of hard muscle beneath your fingers as you enter the small building claimed by John and his team. He’d explained once that they are a high profile, and technically off-the-books team. So the isolation helps maintain their security. Allows them a space to debrief, unwind, and recover in privacy while still at the beck and call of their superiors.

John takes you to the common room—a living room of sorts with several comfy lounge chairs, a couch across from a television and chest of drawers, a small dining table, and a kitchen. You know the whole reason for your visit is to meet his teammates, his friends. His very secret, elusive, lethal friends. But it doesn’t stop your grip from digging into John’s bicep when you see a pair of cargo pant and boot-clad legs sprawled out in front of the couch, some noise playing on the TV.

“Oi, Johnny,” John snaps, your head tilting curiously. John has only ever told you his teammates’ callsigns. So “Johnny” was new. You wonder which of the three he is. “Show some proper manners.”

A dark mohawk pops over the back of the couch, a flash of blue before Johnny is throwing himself to his feet. Practically jumping to stand before you and John. You blink at the glowing smile, the stunning blue eyes set in a pretty boy face you know has charmed many a woman into his bed. He extends a callused hand, which you take with a knowing smile.

“Apologies, lass,” he says, Scottish brogue surprising you as he brings your knuckles to his lips. “Weren’t expecting ye till later.” John grumbles something when Johnny kisses the back of your hand, but allows the man to continue. “It’s wonderful tae put a face to the name Cap’s been fawnin’ over. And what a bonnie face at that.”

Oh, definitely a charmer. A dangerous one who knows it.

“All right, paws off,” John clips, swatting Johnny’s hand from where he still holds yours. Smirking at Johnny’s boyish charm, and John’s clear annoyance with him as you hang your free hand back around John’s arm, you say, “I don’t think I would ever associate the word ‘fawning’ with John.”

Johnny’s eyebrows quirk, playful game caught in his eyes.

“Aye, can barely go a day without moaning over how much he misses ye. Even heard him whisper yer name in his sleep.”

You snort, even as John swipes at Johnny, who ducks the blow, dancing nimbly out of your boyfriend’s reach. Yanking you in close, John rotates slightly to put himself between you and Johnny. The move only makes you grin wider, squeezing John’s arm even as he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Shut your yap,” John gripes, huffing, “where’re the rest o’ you shites?”

Johnny throws a wink at you before tucking his hands behind his back.

“Ghost is sulking ‘round somewhere, Gaz went to the mess to grab some food. Should be back any minute.”

Now those names you recognize, making Johnny = Soap by process of elimination.

Almost as if on cue, another man strolls into the common room with an armful of assorted packaged foods. Dumping his cache on the dining table he spins, and once more you’re smacked with a ridiculously pretty face. Not a blemish in sight, full lips, romantic eyes. You glance at John, who smiles at you, wondering if your boyfriend likes to collect pretty men. The newcomer slides up to you, a smooth walk that barely makes a sound.

John says your name, briefly catching your attention. “This is Kyle, love. Gaz,” he says, nodding at the man.

“Pleasure to meet you, lovely,” he coos in a smooth, shaking your hand with a firm grip.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, taking in the joggers and compression shirt he has on with a raised eyebrow. He’s certainly got the body for it, tight and trim. “When did you all get back?”

Kyle gives you an easy smile, nodding everyone over to the dining table. You give a warm smile to John as he pulls out your chair for you, tucking you in once you’ve sat. Johnny takes the seat to your left while John angles his chair at your right so he can sling his arm over the back of yours, knees knocking together. Kyle sits across from you.

“Yesterday afternoon,” he says, popping open a bag of chips. Glancing at John, your look is teasing. He was home when you’d arrived a little before six. He either neglected to fill out paperwork–doubtful–or set the boys on the grindstone so he could be done and home with dinner and a good pussy-eating ready for you.

John shrugs, claiming a bag of chips for the two of you.

You and the three men chat for a while. Johnny takes a keen interest in your veterinary work and you pass around photos of some of your international research projects. John practically preens as you excitedly explain your job and how much you love it. Kyle is more of a rapt, quiet attention type than rapid fire questions like Johnny. It’s tempting to ask about their jobs, and you make the mistake of asking a single question, to which you get a playful, “That’s above yer pay grade, lass.”

But still, the thought of these three men, cozy and lounging and smiling, becoming a coordinated, lethal unit has something thrilling running through your veins. And the feeling of John only edging closer and closer to you throughout the conversation until he’s practically glued to your side does nothing to curb the buzz.

Sometime later, Kyle’s warm eyes flick behind you, nodding.

“Finally decided to join us, mate?”

John hand slithers around your nape as you turn, rumbling out, “‘bout time, Ghost.”

When your eyes land on a familiar skeleton mask, barely hiding the mountain of a man now frozen in his tracks, you barely hide your gasp. Stomach dropping out your ass. White noise roars in your ears.

He's staring at you, blue eyes rounded and familiar brick-sized boots planted. That fucking balaclava too.

Your voice is choked, “Simon?”

“Did you know?”

John is lent against his desk, ankles crossed at the end of his stretched out legs. Stupid burly biceps crossed over his chest. Blue eyes trained on you as you pace a stripe into his office rug.

“No,” he says matter-of-factly, frustratingly calm.

Your scowl only deepens as you halt and point yourself at him like a loaded gun, hands on your hips.

“You mean to tell me, when I talked about my exes, one of which was a Simon, who worked as a soldier on an army spec ops team, your teammate that you have seen and done unspeakable things with, didn’t cross your fucking mind?”

John is in no way happy with your temper, but he isn’t trying to slake it. If he was, you’d probably drive your fist into his face, take the truck keys, and drive yourself home. Instead, he says, in his even, rough voice, “Of course, he did,” you open your mouth to yell at him but one raise of his bushy brow has you pausing, anger simmering, “but I could name ya ‘bout three Simons I’ve met in this line o’ work. I thought it was a coincidence, love.”

Curling your lip in a nasty snarl you’ll feel bad about later, you turn away. “Don’t love me,” you gripe, resuming your pacing. “Not every Simon wears a damn mask all the time.”

“You never mentioned a mask.”

You shoot him a glare, but you chew on the statement. Simon had been… an odd end. He’d burrowed under your skin with a disconcerting stubbornness. Courting you like he was a fucking three-hundred year old vampire with flowers and food, showing up at your work to force you to take lunch when he knew you rarely ever did. Waiting until the third date to ask to kiss you–a soft little thing that devolved into being pinned against your door. Left breathless and wet as he parted with an accented goodbye.

Almost with the same old world charm John bathes you in on the daily. You should have known.

Six-months—a soft, intimate thing that bloomed like a flower in love with the moon. You’d shared your secrets, he’d share his (even if he never spoke of his job outside ‘it’s confidential, for your safety’ or his friends). Cared for you. Loved you. Fucked you silly. So silly that you didn’t see his fear. Of commitment, of ‘I love you,’ of a future. You think it had to do with his past, a fear of being a monster he wasn’t if any of his childhood vignettes were anything to go by. And you’d tried to get him to open up, to convince him he wasn’t protecting you.. He was hurting you. Mistrusting you in not letting you be a place he could safely change and grow. To take risks.

It felt like you’d had to rip out your own heart when you broke up with him.

Leave him, still as a craggy peak, empty-handed and buffeted, frozen outside the last cafe you’d had lunch at together.

Simon was—is private. Something sacred that you tore apart alone, searching for what went wrong, even as your heart bellowed rage and grief as you broke it. You learned from it, built walls around it—him—yourself, as a result. Even if your therapist encouraged you to remain open-hearted once you’d mourned.

So, no. Telling John about him at all, let alone the emotion and insecurity and vulnerability Simon had poured into his mask—borne to you when he took it off with you and you alone—hadn’t been a thought in your head.

Your pacing halts, your hands rubbing up and down your thighs as all the emotions you thought you’d processed, healed, forgotten come riling up at the mere sight of Simon’s skull embellished mask. Tears prick your eyes and you want to scream as your heart pounds in your chest, lurching between anger and hurt and—

John calls your name softly, drawing your shimmering eyes towards him. You did tell him, however, how heartbroken you were. Ending things with Simon. How you tried and tried to pry happiness from the man, to show him he could trust you, and ending up empty handed.

John crooks a single finger at you, and like a magnet, you go. Lips bite swollen and throat sore, hands shaking with the sheer amplitude of feeling battering through you. He opens his legs for you, and you automatically slot yourself between them. Even though you stubbornly fold your arms over your chest. You must look like a stubborn toddler, because John gives you the softest smile, enfolding your hips with his large hands to tug you closer.

“I can’t believe you’re his captain,” you grumble, trying not to unspool beneath the mindless circles his thumb traces over your ribs. His trenchant gaze settles into yours, annoyingly soothing. You can feel your hackles relaxing without your consent.

“What do you need?” he states with a small tilt of his chin, those eyes flicking down to your lips before trailing back up. Damn him.

You huff, squeezing your biceps. “I don’t know,” you whisper pathetically, frustrated with yourself. With John. With Simon.

John squeezes your hips, drawing you close enough to be firmly squished between his muscled thighs. Defeated, you look at him through your lashes, frazzled pout swelling your lips. Those encompassing hands slide up your waist, calluses catching on the fabric of your skirt, dragging it up with them. John cocks his head, just enough so his nose brushes yours. You can smell his aftershave—the aftershave you patted on his cheeks yourself yesterday. It makes the frenetic part of your mind blur a little.

John’s voice drops an octave, a rhythm that fingers through your belly. “Would you like me to decide?”

Sinful temptation in the form of a man. An emissary from some celestial plane—heaven or hell, you always waffle sometimes. But always revel in the divinity this man forces upon you.

Your shoulders slump, throat baring as you whine at the offer. He’s holding your gaze, waiting for an answer. You already know what you want to say. Are already set on placing your control in his hands because right now, it’s too much. And he’s right here, a safe place to lay yourself down. But it’s still so embarrassing, after almost nine months together, it’s still fucking embarrassing. This delicate transition of power.

Still hugging yourself, you drop your pouting face into the crook of John’s shoulder. Hiding your face as you nod with the smallest movement you can.

John’s answering hum has goosebumps rolling across your skin, his large hands circling your ribcage. His lips, framed by his soft beard, press a kiss to your throat. Deft fingers slip the broad straps of your dress off your shoulders, his warm palms following behind to rub over your skin. Sighing, you begin to melt into John’s front, a surprised moan slipping out when he grabs your nape and squeezes. The taut muscles protesting before they submit to the strong grip.

His massage works its way down your neck, bullying your shoulders into relaxing, pressing into your biceps. Hands gently pry your arms apart, thumbs circling over the tendons of your forearms. Your fingers spasm, the release tangible.

John’s pleased groan has you pressing your forehead against his neck, stepping closer as his hands plaster over your ass. Kneading the flesh until your knees knock and you’re bracing on his thighs. Those tricky fingers bunch up your skirt, sweeping across the rounded globes in search of something that isn’t there.

“This for me, sweet girl?”

Your fingers bunch into his loose pant legs, legs flexing as his own fingertips dribble over the crease of your ass and thighs. Timidly, you nod in the safety of John’s neck, sighing as he pulls your cheeks apart.

“You’re too good to me.” He sets a kiss against the curve of your shoulder, enjoying the shiver he gets as he inches closer to your pussy. “My good girl.”

You ignore the pulse of self-disgust in favor of sinking further into that fuzzy space inside your head.

“You were planning on having this little pussy ruined today, weren’t you?” That enticement has your spine shuddering with pleasure. The click of his tongue has you wanting to sink to your knees and say yes to anything he wanted. You know he would take good care of you. “Wrapping those perky little tits up in such a cute dress. Wanting a reward for how good she did, like a bratty little slut.”

Your eyes flutter, a wet moan sliding from your lips.

He gives your ass a rough squeeze, wrenching a startled yelp from you as your arm around his neck for support.

“Showing off to my mates,” his voice drops lower and you almost pull back, but he yanks you closer. “No runnin’ darlin’,” he whispers, “You just wanted ‘em to see how good I had it. Tease ‘em a bit with this delicious body.”

His hum of approval carves into your skin as those lethal fingers slip between your legs. Finding warm dampness.

“Practically had ‘em drooling over ya.” His voice turns, dark, conspiratorial, “Did ya see ‘em?” His nose grazes across the shell of your ear. No, you hadn’t. Your mind had been fixated on the heat of John along your side, his possessive arm, the safety in which you’d felt enveloped. But the picture John is painting…

You whine as a callus catches your clit, sparkling sensation through your tummy.

“They’re good boys though,” he continues, bathing his middle finger between the wet folds of your pussy. Knuckles rubbing on your clit as the tip plays with your hole. “Won’t go touching what’s mine.” His nip a sting into your neck, and your body gives him a shiver. “At least not without permission.”

Stupid, delicious man. Your hips roll forward without your consent, a breathless sigh escaping your lips. His mean smirk brands into your throat. He knows—knows what the lascivious masterpiece he’s laid before you is doing, but he keeps the victory quiet. In reward, he sinks his middle finger into your dripping pussy. You can’t help but clench around him, welcoming him even deeper. John breathes you in, coaxing more slick down to coat his finger. And you just linger in the warm cloud he’s made around you.

But then he’s gone, and you’re straightening with a protest on your lips as he stands up. So fast, you practically have to stumble back. You can’t help the pleading swirl in your eyes, a rosy pout to your lips as John merely smiles down at you. Using his slick knuckle to tilt your chin up.

“You gonna be good f’me?” His other hand molds your hip, spinning the two of you in a slow dance. Putting your back to his desk and the door to his office.

“Always,” you breathe, the fog in your mind making your blood soft. Your desire reaching and pleading. Supplicating.

“Fuck,” John groans, teasing a kiss with a brush of his nose to yours. You try to follow the dance steps, chasing the promise of his kiss. But he pulls back. “How’d I get so lucky? Beau’iful thing like you.”

“Please, John,” your voice quiet and round. You drop your eyes to his lips, hands bunching in his shirt. Your boyfriend gives in, leans down to brush a tender kiss to your lips.

“Sit on my desk f’me,” he mutters against your pleading mouth.

Reluctant to pull away, you only go with the promise of more waiting on the tips of his fingers digging into your skin. You shimmy onto his desk, feet dangling as you perch on the edge. John tilts his head, a fondness warming his eyes as he takes in your pretty form. It makes butterflies flutter in your stomach—his open perusal, the undercurrent of heat. You could be a virgin school girl for how… vulnerable he makes you feel. But safe, protected within his space, his arms. Laid on his desk.

“Spread ‘em,” he rumbles, eyes dropping to the V of your hips. Without hesitation, you open your thighs, skirt slinging between them to cover the wetness still dribbling out. You can almost feel the heat of his gaze, dragging over your pussy—a jolt of it straight to your womb when he commands, “Show me.”

You let out a shy sigh, lips parting as color rises to your cheeks. Even as you bunch up your skirt, baring your soaked panties to his hungry gaze. John practically growls, the black of his eyes swallowing the blue.

“Obedient today,” he praises in that syrupy voice that has slick glistening on your naked thighs. Your pussy throbs as he steps up between your plush legs, lent over you like a predator, slow and lazy as they play with their prey. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. His heat sears into your skin as he grazes his knuckles along your cheek.

Admiring. Affectionate.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, canting his lips just against yours, “you know that, right darlin’?”

You shiver, nodding emphatically as you unspool like loose thread into his hands.

“Good girl.” You jump at the hard press of his full cock against your stomach. Still clothed—John makes no move to free himself. “Now, wrap your arms around my neck.”

Your skirt flutters to your knees as you obey, and he follows the weight of your arms, fixing his lips against yours. Thighs squeezing around his hips, you barely feel tangible as he kisses you sweetly. Warm and adoring as he parts his lips, tongue running the seam of your mouth. You’re turning into nothing but sweet, viscous honey, melting into his skin as you open beneath him. His tongue dips into your mouth as he slides a palm up your thigh, fingers grazing over your mound.

Then his middle finger is sinking in between your folds, pressure from your clit to where the fingertip plays with your hole. You moan softly, hips flexing, rolling yourself into his palm. His mouth becomes more insistent, sloppy and indulgent, that finger dipping into you, swirling before pulling back out. Your mouths part as you try to catch your breath but John plunges you back under, his other arm circling your back. Yanking you against him as he roughly plunges his entire finger into you.

A groan slips through your nose, jaw slackening as he hooks that finger inside you and drags out. Raking against your G-spot. You break away, a high moan of near discomfort in your mouth as he reaches the end of his finger only to press harder. Shooting a splitting bolt of pleasure through your pelvis and legs. John merely recaptures your lips and presses back in, a second finger sliding alongside the first. You’re too aroused for the stretch to even hurt. It’s delicious, rough as he pulls in and out, making sure to press into your gummy little spot of pleasure until your thighs begin to shake.

But it’s not enough.

Like he can read your mind—sometimes you think he can—a third finger joins, side by side and stretching. He rotates his wrist as he scoops his fingers into you, coaxing forth more slick to pool in his palm. He repeats the motion, twisting up your insides until you can’t kiss anymore, only moan and whine and squirm against his hand. You’re so pretty like this, John thinks, continuing to ravage your mouth as his fingers coil up your pleasure. Sweet little pussy dripping into his hand like the good little girl you are.

Fuck, you’re gorgeous.

And while John is arching you against him, scrambling your pretty brain, you don’t notice the door to his office opening. John knows exactly who it is, before the burly man even steps inside. You’re lost in your pleasure, slapping a palm against the desk as leverage as you roll your hips into his insistent fingers. John’s eyes hook onto the other man’s, teeth baring in a satisfied grin against your cheek.

Simon stands frozen in his captain’s doorway, watching your darling, achingly familiar silhouette squirm on the desk. His cheeks heat, blood rushing and pooling south. John gives a rough thrust into your pussy, so your gorgeous moan bursts out—muffling the click of the door closing. He’s brutal on each upward stroke, punching out a little staccato whine on each go. John watches the younger man’s fingers twitch, eyes darkening as they catch on the warm flash of your bare thighs. Split open around John’s waist.

Might as well have been the devil in John’s gleaming white smile, tucked into your shoulder.

Your captain can practically see the chub growing in his lieutenant’s pants. He hums, deeply satisfied, dark. It washes over your skin like a salve, your head falling back as your hips buck into John’s hand. His eyes don’t leave his lieutenant’s.

“That feel good?” John mutters, harsh. He yanks out his fingers, palm cracking on your soaking pussy. You scream, short and wet, fingers scraping into John’s skin. “Pretty pussy all wet for me.”

“John,” you moan, hole clenching on pitiful emptiness. Curling into your man, you seek out the softness of his beard, rubbing your cheek along the newly trimmed stubble.

“So sweet,” he preens, tongue dragging along the line of your throat. Simon’s eyes follow, mouth dry. “Just a little kitten f’me.”

“John, please—” you yelp when he slaps your pussy again, blood pulsing tightly in your clit, hips grinding into his palm, “---please. I need you.”

John chuckles, watching his lieutenant palm his cock, shifting on his feet like a shy school boy.

“Need me,” he echoes, taunting, “I’m here, darlin’. I got you.”

Your breath sticks in your throat as he shoves all three fingers back inside you with one quick move.

“Oh, fuuuccckkk.” Your voice warbles, slick dripping from your folds, smearing on John’s desk. A permanent stain he intends to preserve.

“Mmm, good,” John praises, goosebumps prickling his skin at the filthy way you clench around him

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you breathe, setting your weight into the arm around his neck. Dragging him closer. He needs to be closer. “Right there.”

John pulls kisses along your neck, baring his teeth before he sinks them into your shoulder. The shudder seizes your body, shaking another moan from your lips Eyes locked with Simon’s, John releases your skin, tonguing the throbbing flesh as he flushes his palm against your clit and curls those devil fingers inside you.

Simon fists his cock through his pants, tension limning his body as he watches the way your thighs shake. He has to bite his cheek to muffle his moan just as you try to slide your free hand to your neglected clit.

“Ah ah,” John chides, digging in his fingers until you’re throbbing with a nasty ache. “No touching,” he commands. For both his girl and his lieutenant. You both listen too, your hand hesitating just at his wrist. Simon’s pauses at the button of his cargo pants, gorgeous eyes crinkling with burgeoning pain.

“Good,” John praises, pouring warm honey into his deep, gravelly voice. His teeth nibble on your earlobe, knees tightening around John’s hips in a delicious vice. John wants nothing more than to sink to his knees and bury his face in your sloppy pussy, but that would release Simon from the spell. Probably send him skittering back to his room like a spooked rabbit. Shutting himself into his bathroom where he would fist his painful, angry cock and think of his Captain ramming his load into you.

No, no. John wanted Simon to stay right where he was, cock leaking a stain into his pants as you dribbled and trembled all over his desk.

The captain grinds his own hard dick against your thigh, working his fingers to the filthy squelch between your thighs.

“Wanna bend you over this desk and fuck your little brains out,” John murmurs against your ear, fingers stilling inside you. Only to hook on your pubic bone, pressing deep against your gummy G-spott. He wraps your swaying curtain of curls into his fist, yanking your head back to expose the vulnerable line of your throat. “You don’t need one, huh? You’ve got Daddy ta take care o’ ye.” Drool falls from the corner of your mouth, tongue lolling out. His hips grind down into your thigh, shuddering at the sound of your short pants, cunt spasming around his fingers. “Fill this pretty cunt with my cum, hmm? Maybe let the boys see it slip down your pretty legs as we leave. So they really know who you belong to. That sound good, swee’art?”

Your lids are split the barest millimeter, mouth slack and John aches to feed you his cock. Watch you choke a little as he bottoms out, nose buried in the dark hair there. And you can see that voracious hunger in his eyes as he leans back to smile down at you. Tomcat with his meal. What a pretty picture you make. John’s smirk is blended with adoration, but there’s an edge of tartarean cruelty that has your bones jittering with excitement. He cuts the picture of a dark god preparing to play with his sacrifice. And you willingly lay yourself at his altar—spreading your legs wider, yanking your dress up over your full breasts, and tempting him with a pretty, “Please.”

John sees his lieutenant’s mouth fall open beneath his mask at the sound of your plea. Another supplicant eager to even come near the altar. A lesser god maybe, with a dearth of beautiful sacrifices and now longs to touch the work of art so, so close. His gaze scrapes over your creamy breasts, bouncing with your breath.

He snatches one in his palm, squeezing like a brute, tugging it into his mouth when he leans down. What he wouldn’t give to see these tits swollen and leaking. Your tummy rounded and heavy with his kids. He lets his cloying desire burn in his eyes as he flicks them back to Simon, tongue dragging over your nipple. His lieutenant’s knuckles are white. John can see the precum stain from here.

“Fuck,” John groans, shoulders slumping as he tugs your hair, baring more of your tantilizing throat. His mouth pouncing on the new flesh. “Aren’t you a beautiful slut?”

Your eyes close fully, letting the warmth wash over you and John steps back into your body.

Simon dares a step closer, catching his captain’s liquid gaze as he stuffs his fingers back into you. You moan, slipping your hand into his shaggy hair. Your hips roll, his thumb pressing into your clit in some twisted act of mercy. Pleasure coils once more behind your navel, wringing out cute little whimpers that make Simon’s cock twitch his pants. The lieutenant’s tongue is heavy, lips chapped. His eyes are glued to your writhing silhouette, images of you and his captain in even filthier positions.

This is the bird he’s been shacking up with these past months? The one who’s turned his captain soft and loving, domestic? The one who has him bolting from base as soon as they touch down on the tarmac? The one Simon has been endlessly pining over like a miserable lech ever since you ended your relationship last year?

Simon can’t even bring himself to be pissed.

Not when your whines turn high and constant, following the beckon of John’s fingers, your cunt twitching as your orgasm teeters on the ledge. Not when John mouths the soft curve of your freckled shoulder.

“That’s it,” John coos, looking back to his lieutenant as his own hips grind along your leg. “That’s it, darlin’.”

Simon’s hand twitches towards his dick, desperate to grip it, to fuck his hand to the real sight of you for the first time in nearly a year instead of just the memory. But John tsks, a jolt traveling down both your and Simon’s spines at the demanding tone. Simon’s hand hesitates, but you get harsher thrusts, a concentrated massage of your clit and G-spot that has you bucking. Whining and yanking on his hair as your ankles lock at the small of his back.

“Fuck, John,” you groan, “just like that. Just like that.” You’re nearly sobbing, care for your volume gone out the window.

“I got you, lovie. Can feel your cunt twitching.” John presses a possessive kiss to your temple, grinning as Simon soundlessly groans, his neglected cock hanging heavy and abandoned in his pants. “Cum on my fingers, sweet thing, cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you beg, ass clenching as your legs tremble. Simon’s hips buck. “Right there, baby, right there. Right there. Right there.”

John’s mouth parts just as he feels you tip over the edge. Balls tightening as your walls clamp down on his hand, imagining your pussy choking his cock. You come with an aborted cry, slick gushing down John’s fingers, dripping onto his forearm. One last tight grind against your thigh, taste spread over his tongue, he paints the inside of his briefs with a rumbling moan.

And poor Simon is left blue-balled by the door like a kicked pup. Fucking deserves it, moping around base and acting no more than a pitiful mutt ever since you’d kicked him to the curb. Nearly endangering the team those first few missions after you’d broken his heart. John’s hand uncurls from your hair, splaying across the expanse of your bare shoulders, the smooth lines of your upper back as you pant through the aftershocks.

Precious little thing.

His lieutenant doesn’t deserve to see how soft you are for John as you come down. Not after how he fumbled you. So he jerks his chin at the door, effectively dismissing his subordinate. He sees Simon’s eyes round, indignant, surprised. But John merely raises a challenging brow, rubbing your spine as your forehead drops onto his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, staring his lieutenant down until the younger man slips out of his office with an obvious tent in his cargo pants. As soon as the door snicks shut, John gathers you into his arms—limp, shaky body warm and pliant in his arms. He sits back into his office chair, pooling you across his lap with quiet coos and praises.

Petting your wild curls, John closes his eyes, soaking in your aftershocks.

Tracking you down all those months ago was the best thing he’d ever decided to do.

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redbirdandbluebird23 · 1 year ago

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The Kids from Yesterday - Chapter 12

Masterlist

Damian only made his way into the den once he was sure Richard had left for his therapy appointment. He had been turning Jason’s words over in his mind since the week before, but was still undecided with how to proceed. Jason believed his anger at Richard stemmed from the fact he left without informing Damian himself, but in actuality, it was because he left Jason without informing any of them of what happened. Damian knew Jason better than most, and he knew if Jason had not come looking for Richard that day, he would have gone to ground as soon as he heard the news due to his history with father (leaving Damian behind once again). Then there was also how much Jason struggled during Richard’s absence in regards to the pregnancy. He hid it well and Damian knew the rest of the family had not picked up on it, but it was Jason who taught Damian how to lie, so Damian could see through it all.

Damian could admit he was better now Richard was back, but that did not make up for the seven months of physical and emotional pain Jason had endured. It would take more than one apology and, as Drake put it, ‘half-assed excuses’ for Damian to even begin to forgive him.

Jason was propped up in the corner of the L-shaped sofa in the den, his legs extended in front of him, with an old film playing on the TV. Titus was lounging across his legs, his head gently resting on the top of Jason’s bump as Jason stroked between his ears. The first time Titus had done so, Damian had been prepared to scold him, but Jason stopped him and said it was actually very common and, given how protective Titus had been of Jason, expected.

Read on Ao3

#jaydick #dickjay #jason todd #dick grayson #dick grayson/jason todd #omega jason todd

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peko-peko-pekun · 1 year ago

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hello to my 7 followers. its been a while. i would like to apologize for my extended absence in which can be blamed on this stupid fucking game that plagues my every waking moment. its a small indie game , you may not have heard of it, very underground, called STARDEW VALLEY. boy, do i have a bone to pick with this game. i have 173 hours in it and i've only played for like two months. fuck this game.

anywway, here's my fanart for it. haley and alex

...and more alex. because i am normal about him i am nor mal i am normal i am normal ai man rofrml a nfafmcxm,m,awrg(h e is the only thing i have draw nfor the past month)

I'm also getting into traditional art . but like really casually ( if you couldnt tell) (sry the images r kinda ass) (im also not really good at drawing humands but im working on it :thumbsup:) i also did some other sketches of haley when i was trying to figure out how to draw her

alex...,...,.,.

#the obsession is developing #tune in to see my mental deterioration!#or maybe not and it'll end abruptly #ill continue posting errorberry eventually dw btw #or maybe worry a bit this is getting out of hand #stardew valley #sdv alex #alex mullner #sdv haley

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 19 days ago

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where have you gone? :(

Thank you for asking!! I was going to make a more formal announcement for this, but as the opportunity was presented to me…. For the past three months I’ve been hard at work on my largest project ever:

An interactive, text based video game!!

It’s not Jackass related, but it has taken up a great deal of my time. I’m actually finishing work up on it now, nearing 20k words! When it’s finished, I’ll post the link here, but it certainly won’t take long, and I’ll be back to the normally scheduled requests in no time :)

I apologize for my extended absence, but I am still very much in love with Jackass and will continue to write about the guys <3

#more info will be posted on @tales-of-darkmoor #if you couldn’t tell I’ve been expanding my sphere of fandoms I write for lol #jackass #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #jackass x reader

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simon-thomas · 2 months ago

Text

Exploring with Stygian: Ending

POV: M.E.G Researcher Amanda Walker

Experiment purpose: Exploration Viability

[Content Warning: Blood]

(Male researcher) “Do you need a moment Ms. Walker?”

(Amanda) “No…no, let’s just get it over with.”

(Male researcher) “Very well. Whenever you’re ready.”

(Amanda) “I was ambushed by a wretch. I escaped but soon more showed up. The last thing I remember is being piled on by 3 of them. They started…(breathing escalates)”

(Male researcher) “It’s ok Ms. Walker…based on your injuries, there’s no need for further explanation.”

(Amanda) “…understood sir. I’m sorry.”

(Male researcher) “There’s no need to apologize. We have one one audio transcript remaining. Shall we end it off on this?”

(Amanda) “yes sir.”

[New tape inserted]

[tape begins]

(Camera static)

(Splashing)

(Water movement)

Creature: (High pitched noises)

(Footsteps)

Man’s voice: “Stygian? Who’s that? What happened?”

Creature: (sounds of distress)

(Splash)

(Footsteps through water)

Man’s voice: “Mierda…stay here, I’ll get help.”

(Man exits water)

(Fast footsteps)

Man’s voice (distant): “HEY! I need some help over here!…”

Creature: (high pitched noises)

(Water movement)

(Multiple footsteps)

Man’s voice: “Over here!”

[Tape ends]

“Can you identify the individual in this log?”

“Yes. I recognize his voice. I believe his name is Ruben.”

“Mr. Garcia is the one who recovered you. From where do you recognize him?”

“I spoke with him about Stygian. Apparently Ruben’s the one who named him.”

“Mr. Garcia has been an invaluable source of information on the creature. We may have you work with him in the future.”

“Understood sir.”

“How are you feeling Ms. Walker?”

“About how you’d expect.”

“Would it be necessary to extend your leave of absence?”

“Possibly. Give it a couple days and I’ll let you know.”

“Understood. Let us end on the final review shall we?”

“Of course sir.”

“Wonderful. You may begin detailing your findings as best as you are able. Any missed details may be added at a later date.”

A paper is handed to her. She begins writing with her one good hand.

“Thank you Ms. Walker. You may return to your room to recover at your earliest convenience. We will be in touch.”

Creator’s notes: I didn’t intend for it to end so abruptly but I want this project to be over. There’s so much more I want to write about with Stygian but this has been getting in the way. Now that it’s done, I can do some less intensive but more informative work. Yay :D

Original background of the first image done by Jared Pike.

#the backrooms #poolrooms #mermaid #merman #poolrooms mermaid #cw blood #tw blood #backrooms fandom #backrooms entity

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wooahaes · 2 years ago

Text

under the sun [jeonghan]

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 11.5k~

warnings: skinship. food + alcohol mentions. jeonghan denying his feelings a bit. one kiss with dubious consent (reader is drunk and kisses jeonghan) that gets addressed and apologized for.

daisy’s notes: me fighting for my life trying to finish this fic before the end of july

< day 3 || masterlist ||

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.

Jeonghan worried about you more than he would ever admit out loud. Despite the fact that he knew you were cared for (by everyone, but especially by Chan, who seemed to follow after your every step like a puppy--overjoyed, no doubt, that he was no longer the “new kid” in the group), you were still on the quieter side. It was too early for him to know for sure if you were just a quiet person, like Minghao, or if you were uncomfortable. While Seungcheol led the group well, a watchful eye on everything and any potential problems, Jeonghan was always the one who served as the shoulder to cry on or a listening ear when Seungcheol was too intimidating to approach. Sure, he could tease from time to time--but it was always toward people he knew could handle it (no bad days there) and out of love.

So Jeonghan snuck away after he helped the others wash laundry one morning and found you out in the gardens. There were enough people that your absence wouldn’t be missed if he just happened to steal you away for a little break.

“You look tired,” he said from the foot of the tree you were picking fruit from. “Do you wanna take a break?”

“Chan told me not to,” you said with a concerned frown. “If you need to rest, it’s okay. But Chan said that it just creates more work for the others when--”

“It'll be okay,” he said. “It’s better to rest than to overwork yourself.”

Truthfully, Jeonghan knew you were overworking yourself. Always eager to pick up a task whenever someone needed a favor done, or making sure to put your all into doing chores correctly so that it would be less stress on anyone else. You shouldered the work the same way Seungcheol did without much of a fuss. Maybe that was why Jeonghan worried about you: you seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Seungcheol in certain ways. He wondered if you felt the need to “earn your keep” even though they would have let you stay if you physically couldn’t.

“How many were you supposed to pick?” He nodded up at the ripe peaches just within your reach.

“Enough for all of us.”

“And how many do you have?”

You looked away sheepishly. “Like... maybe twenty.”

“You don’t need to do anymore,” he said. “You did your part. The others can handle the rest. Come take a nap with me.”

“But--”

Jeonghan extended a hand up, “If you get in trouble, I’ll take the blame. You need to rest before you burn yourself out.”

With a sigh, you relented: you’d leave your share inside the church at the very least before going off with him. So he smiled to himself as he watched you search for a safe enough place out of the way to leave your picked fruit, and extended his hand back out to you. When you took it, he merely gave you a reassuring squeeze before heading out toward the river. He’d mapped out nice napping places forever ago, and he was sure every single person in the group (except you, but you’d learn in time) knew where all of them were. On other days, he’d bring a blanket with him. Maybe next time he stole you away, he would--or maybe the two of you could hide out in the attic, cozy on that bed underneath the sun window. It was usually a pretty good spot to nap, especially since everyone tried to clean that room first when they were on cleaning duty. Less people to disturb Jeonghan’s rest.

Yet he didn’t want to nap anymore when he was lying out in the grass. You had sat down next to him, still sitting up and watching the river pass by. If you looked close enough, you could see the occasional fish. The river always felt so clear most of the time, and yet occasionally you’d see one darting through the water--almost like the universe was taunting you.

“Are you adjusting well?” Jeonghan asked, finally sitting up after a few minutes of just watching you silently sit there. “You can tell me if you’re having a tough time. A lot of people do, to begin with.”

You looked up, uncertainty etched into every feature. “I’m fine,” you said, and Jeonghan could tell it was a lie. “I mean... I’m adjusting. It’s just taking some getting used to, that’s all.”

He frowned. Despite the way you seemed to get along with the youngest three in the group, Jeonghan noticed that you still seemed a little quiet around the others. Soonyoung you’d cuddle with during some nights (usually because he wanted you close by--he liked cuddling and you seemed happy to let him snuggle in), but the others... Jeonghan had kept an eye on and an ear open for any concerns. Joshua had outright told him that he was worried you might change your mind about staying--something he and Seungcheol had talked about one night.

Which Jeonghan understood. Seungcheol had told him you wondered if there were other people out there. Jeonghan had questioned it, too, before Seungcheol told him that he hadn’t seen anyone else. He wanted to leave, too. That was before they found Joshua. Truth be told, Jeonghan still wanted to go--only when it was getting too late for him to think straight. He’d made peace with that urge long ago, yet it still scratched at the back of his mind, begging to be let back in.

Would you go with him if he asked? Jeonghan pushed the thought away. No point in thinking about things like that when he had a group to help care for, you included.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked quietly. “I know I can’t relate to being uncomfortable, but I’m happy to help if I can.”

He watched you breathe in slowly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He could practically see the way you were weighing your options: open up to Jeonghan, or shoulder the problems longer on your own. Is that why Seungcheol seemed so attached to you sometimes? Because you were a little like him? Even though the reasons differed, both of you seemed to carry the weight of your problems alone despite there being others there ready to help lighten the load.

“I dunno,” you finally said after a slow exhale. “It’s not that I don’t like being here with you all, it’s just...”

“Just?” Jeonghan prompted. You can tell me.

Another deep breath. “I just feel like I’m intruding on something. Chan and Hansol and Seungkwan always try to stick by me--Chan more than the others--but... I dunno. Sometimes it feels like I’m not fully 'one of you’ now. Especially since I couldn’t remember my name on my own.”

Jeonghan frowned. Jihoon had pointed out the pale gray lettering in the collar of your shirt that day--it felt right to say it to you. Maybe it was a mistake, but Jeonghan didn’t want you to go by a name that wasn’t fully yours longer than you had to. Everyone else had hated it--some more than others--and there had been relief in getting that key part of themself back. Was it wrong to tell it to you instead of letting you remember? Would you even remember without his prompting?

“It’s dumb,” you traced a finger through the small patch of dirt, “but... I think all of you are close enough already. Even Chan seems to be a part of the group more than I am, you know? Chan can go off with you or Hansol or whoever and fit right in. I’m just... here.”

“You don’t think we like you?”

“It’s not that--” You looked up. “I just don’t feel like I fit in. Sometimes you guys tell stories that I like listening to, but I can’t help but feel left out of a joke. I don’t want that to stop you guys from reminiscing, I just... I wish I knew how to make memories with you guys without feeling like I’m forcing myself where I don’t belong.”

Jeonghan had already begun formulating plans in his head. He wasn’t going to force the group together, but... Sometimes they’d get together for things. Maybe he could push the others to put something together, an open invitation for everyone to be a part of it. Just to be together as a group again. Hansol had that old projector that he liked to set up sometimes to watch old films with them--maybe Jeonghan could bring that up over dinner one day just to put the idea out there.

If you weren’t feeling like part of the group, then Jeonghan was sure he would fix that. If Seungcheol was right and the fourteen of you were all that’s left, you needed to stay together. Seungcheol had enough on his plate. Jeonghan could handle this.

He laid a hand over your own. “You do belong here if that’s where you want to be.” He looked you in the eyes, “Do you want to be here?”

You nodded. “I think so.”

“Then it’s okay,” he said. “You’re still new. Just give it a little more time.”

You smiled at him after a moment, more genuine than the nervous ones you’d given him before. “Thank you, Jeonghan. I feel a little better.”

“If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jeonghan found Minghao working in a corner, painting a little tree onto the landscape. He sat down beside him, watching him work slowly but happily. Despite the fact that Minghao got along great with everyone else, the guy liked to have his moments alone--and Jeonghan had, admittedly, given him that. Minghao had been painting alone for the past hour, and Jeonghan would give him space again if that’s what he wanted.

“Minghao,” he said, voice soft enough to keep the conversation between them. Mingyu and Seokmin were working on dinner that day. “Do you remember when you used to guide us through meditation?”

He nodded, not looking up. “It’s been a few weeks.”

“Would you like to do it again?” Jeonghan watched as Minghao added a little red apple into the tree. “I think it really helped us before.”

“Did it?” He looked up just for a moment. “Some of you fell asleep.”

Soonyoung had, and so did Seungcheol. Admittedly the two that Jeonghan fully expected to last time--it was a few days before Chan’s one-month celebration and Seungcheol had been a bit tense about the whole thing, which meant Soonyoung was going to get tense because he wanted it to be good as well. Jeonghan knew the tension would come again in a week when your celebration was closer.

“Because it helped,” Jeonghan insisted. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. It looked like you enjoyed it last time.”

Minghao nodded along, brows furrowed slightly as he thought it over. “I’ll see if anyone’s interested.”

“Ask Mouse,” Jeonghan said. “They might be interested in meditation.”

Minghao nodded. “I will,” he said. “Did they say something?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “Just trying to make sure they’re included.”

A soft chuckle. An eye roll. Jeonghan almost definitely knew what he was thinking: team mom Jeonghan was back. He had a track record of doting on the other members and making sure they were being cared for.

“I’ll talk to them,” Minghao said after a moment. “I don’t know if they’ll be interested.”

Sure enough, you were. Jeonghan had agreed to be there when Minghao had gathered them in the church a few days later. While not everyone was partaking (a few of them were working on getting things prepared for dinner later, opting to prioritize prep-work over meditation), Jeonghan was happy with the turnout. The chairs had been stacked and put away, Jeonghan sitting in the back as he watched Minghao slowly weave in-between the different people lying on the floor--you included. Minghao stopped near you at one point, not pausing in his speech at all as he crouched down and gently moved you into a more comfortable position.

The air grew quieter for a moment. “Better?” Minghao whispered to you.

You merely nodded, and then Minghao continued on, calmly speaking in that same even tone of voice. He stepped over where he’d just positioned your arm a little further out without any sign of annoyance at his own decision, continuing to slowly walk between the different people. He paused as he looked at Jeonghan, giving a tiny nod to the others. It’s not too late to join them.

Jeonghan merely raised a hand to signal that he was fine. He didn’t need any meditation. You needed the group activity. Maybe Jeonghan could talk him into doing another yoga day sometime--that had been fun to watch last time. This worked, too, though. When Minghao’s back was turned, he saw the way you opened your eyes just for a moment--meeting gazes with Mingyu--and then smiled at him. It was something small, but it was a little connection that was being strengthened through shared experience. That was what Jeonghan had wanted.

Jeonghan noticed the way Seungkwan was about to head outside until he saw the scene before him. Minghao had given him a pointed look--everyone knew that he was going to do meditation today, and Seungkwan was one of the ones who hadn’t felt up to it. Jeonghan quickly rose to his feet, making his way to the edge of the room and gesturing for him to come over--avoiding anyone sprawled out a little too close to the walls. With an open hand, Jeonghan kept his arm outstretched for Seungkwan to make his way over, gently guiding him out of the church. He quietly shut the door behind him, standing out in the warm summer air with him for a moment.

Seungkwan had already been mid-apology when Jeonghan asked if he wanted to go for a walk with him. Just down to the river, where they could walk together for a bit. By the time they’d get back, Minghao’s meditation session would be over. So Seungkwan nodded, agreed, and walked a step behind him as the two went together for a while.

“Have you come up with anything new with Seokmin and Soonyoung?” Jeonghan asked at one point, hands tucked into his pants pockets. Sometimes the three came up with their own little songs and dances that they’d show off after bringing everyone together. It was nice and always a fun time.

Seungkwan looked up, humming in acknowledgement before thinking the question over. “There’s something we’ve been doing,” he admit.

“Jihoon’s still working on things,” he said. “I think Hansol has, too. Maybe we should have another music night.”

Seungkwan lit up at the suggestion. “Why now?”

“Why not?” Jeonghan continued along, hands still lazily hanging from his pockets with each slow step. “They’re fun. Jihoon’s comfortable showing Mouse his music, even though it’s not done.”

None of it ever is. Not the songs Hansol worked on in his spare time, not the songs the trio worked on: nothing was ever finished. Jeonghan had heard Jun mutter a lyric that he later heard from Minghao. When he asked, neither of them knew the song--they both said the same excuse that it was probably something they knew in their old life. They made things work, though: Soonyoung had been the one who proposed Jihoon share his songs with the others an eternity ago.

(”Maybe we might know part of it, if it’s a song someone else wrote...” )

It’d been a while, though, since the last one. Sure, they shared music with one another during Chan’s celebration, but before then... Jeonghan was sure that the last night they had dedicated to it was a week before Chan showed up.

Seungkwan hummed to himself softly as he thought, brows set in tight concentration as he weighed the options (to do or to not: the only options he had) against one another. When Jeonghan said he’d talk to Seungcheol about getting it set up, Seungkwan slowly nodded, as that must have helped tip his decision over.

“Okay,” he said. “But you have to help set up.”

Jeonghan laughed warmly, throwing an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders. “I will,” he promised. “You just get the others together. We’ll figure out plans once I distract them.”

Seungkwan accepted that and, once the two returned to the now-finished meditation session, already went off to get Seokmin and Joshua to go find Jihoon. Jeonghan saw the way you lit up as you talked to Minghao about something, and he casually slipped into the conversation to see if maybe he could push you toward Minghao. If nothing came of it, then fine, but at least it meant that maybe the two of you would grow closer as people in general. He’d been talking about meditation and ways to find peace.

“Like with your paintings,” Jeonghan had casually said, an arm curling around you.

Minghao nodded. “Right. Painting helps, too.”

“Why don’t you show them your work?” Jeonghan gently nudged you forward. “Maybe they’ll take up painting, too...”

Minghao raised his brows, and Jeonghan was sure that if you hadn��t been watching him, he would have mouthed a ‘What are you doing?’ to him.

But you’d grown a little more excited, “Oh! I’d love to hear about them, actually,” you then grew a little more sheepish, most likely over remembering the fact that you and Minghao weren’t exactly the closest so far. “If... that’s okay, I mean.”

Jeonghan could see the way Minghao lit up, though, and he happily obliged. Which meant that you had that cute twinkle in your eyes again, and Jeonghan found himself smiling as the two of you went off--Minghao taking your hand as he guided you down into the passage leading back to the main room, just to secure you. He’d heard your happy giggle as you went, and he let out a quiet sigh.

As long as you were happy... then Jeonghan would be, too.

Music nights were common enough occurrences, for the most part. They already knew how to set up the church to make things look nice: the stage set with a microphone and the acoustic guitars, chairs lined up in rows (some of them with designated seats, as if it’s their own little VIP preserved seating, with those little plush animals to designate each person). Seokmin roped Mingyu and Jun into helping with making snacks for this, and Jeonghan can hear Joshua and Jihoon as they check over everything to make sure tonight will be ready. Jeonghan, on the other hand, was focused on the seating arrangements. Sure, they could sit anywhere... But he’d quietly picked up the tiger-striped hamster that’d been sitting in a chair next to a mouse, and set the otter from the end of the row next to it instead. He hadn’t noticed anything sparking between you and Minghao, but you and Chan...

Well. He left his rabbit plush on your other side. Just to ensure that you’d be able to enjoy yourself tonight, and to play wingman for Chan. The guy probably needed a little help considering how flustered he’d get with you.

People began to filter in once Seungkwan gave word that everything was prepared. There was a loose enough schedule for tonight, starting with Seungkwan performing something he’d been working on with Seokmin and Soonyoung, followed by either Jihoon or Hansol performing whatever they’d been writing lately. From there, they’d play it by ear: plenty of the others had things to share. Dances they’d choreographed, songs they’d grown better at playing... And Jeonghan would stand by, watching as people took their seats. He noticed the way Chan lit up upon realizing he’d be next to you, and he’d already warmly greeted you with that love-struck look on his face that everyone else seemed to notice except you.

Jeonghan settled in on the other side of you, and didn’t fail to notice the tiny way you shifted a little closer to him. He chalked it up to the fact you seemed to be drifting toward him a lot more lately, probably because he’d been trying to include you in things more. It was a guaranteed space where you felt loved and appreciated. That was all he’d let it be, at least.

Wonwoo had been asked to essentially emcee the beginning of the night, and he’d been the one to introduce Soon-Seok-Seung (which... in Jeonghan’s opinion, still felt off, but maybe a smidge better than the previous ‘Soon-Seok-Kwan’) in a song they’d been working on. Which made Jeonghan realize something: you, despite hearing Jihoon and Joshua sing, had no idea how talented all of them were. Music was something that unified all of them, and Jeonghan wasn’t afraid to say that all of them were pretty talented at it.

“Are you going to do something?” He’d whispered to you as Chan went to prepare for his own performance.

You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m as good as you guys.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, and when you nodded, he decided he wouldn’t push. “That’s fine,” he said. “You can stay here and enjoy the others’ performances with me, then.”

Of course, this wouldn’t ring true for too long. Once the night devolved into singing other songs they’d found on records and whatnot, Joshua had pulled him into a duet. Jeonghan had tried to dodge it--he’d already told you he’d stay with you, after all--but Joshua had taunted him a bit and it’d been enough to get him up to sing. He’d do one song and then go back to you (although now that he saw the way Chan was holding your hand, the two of you happily snuggled together... maybe he’d stay up a little longer).

He kicked himself a little for noticing the way you lit up when you heard him sing, and for the way it made his heart flutter a little. He already liked you from the first day you came, but this only endeared you to him further. But if anyone asked if he felt anything over the fact that Chan was so lovingly holding onto you, he’d deny it. Not while Chan clearly felt something for you. Not while other people did, too.

Instead, he settled for pulling you into the next group song that they’d begun singing at the top of their lungs. Although your voice was far quieter than the others, he could hear you underneath the cacophony of chaos around him. Every lowly sung syllable hit his ears, alongside the warm sound of your laughter at the others dancing goofily, throwing themselves fully into enjoying this song. Soonyoung had turned, seeing you, and Jeonghan recognized the twinkle in his eyes.

So with a light shove, he pushed you toward Soonyoung, who’d extended a hand to you. You’d shot him a look over your shoulder, but Soonyoung happily swept you away into dancing with him instead. The way you laughed would stick with Jeonghan for the rest of the night, leaving him with a warm sense of joy over another job well done. You’d fallen asleep in Soonyoung’s arms that night, giggling as he and Seokmin continued to pepper kisses onto your skin, saying something about teaching you one of their dances sometimes.

When Jeonghan woke up the next morning, he realized how much you looked like you belonged there. You always did, in his eyes, but now... It truly felt like you were one of them in every way, happily curled up and completely at peace in a way he hadn’t seen before. You were finding your home with them.

Jeonghan smiled to himself at the thought.

A few days later, Jeonghan had called out to you as you lounged around the common area, a book you’d borrowed from Wonwoo in your hands. You held it to your chest as you made your way over to where he was packing wrapped meals into a bag alongside Jun and Joshua, and he’d already begun to fill you in: the three of them were going on a little picnic outside today. The weather wasn’t too hot, and they’d been wanting to go out for a while now...

“Do you want to join us?” He asked. He nodded toward the other two, “It was their idea.”

(Jeonghan, unfortunately, did not notice the look Jun and Joshua shared behind his back--which said to you that Jeonghan had just outright lied to you.)

“Are you sure?” You glanced over to Joshua, who’d continued to pack extra food into the bag. “I don’t want to bother you guys--”

“You aren’t!” Jun piped up immediately, making his way over. “We’d be glad to have you, if you want to come.”

With the extra support, you agreed to come along. The blanket had been handed to you to carry along, and you followed along behind them as they talked casually. Joshua and Jun seemed to head the charge, while Jeonghan lingered behind, just to stay in step with you. He’d waved casually enough to Soonyoung, who had lit up with realization that the five of you were going off for some sort of picnic, and darted off while calling out to Jihoon. Maybe you should have realized then and there that this wasn’t going to be limited to the four of you. While Joshua had found a cozy place for the four of you to eat, it’d barely been maybe twenty minutes at the most before you heard Soonyoung yelling for you all.

And where there was Soonyoung, there was the rest of the group. He’d found you five with ease and took off running, carrying a bag and a blanket in his own arms.

“What if we wanted to come?!” He huffed at Jeonghan more than Joshua or Jun, who’d giggled at how pouty the man had become.

Jeonghan had smiled, shoulder bumping against yours as he shifted into a more comfortable sitting position. “We didn’t say you couldn’t--”

“You didn’t tell us where you were going,” Chan whined as he made his way over, already taking up the empty space next to you. “That makes it look like you guys wanted to be alone.”

Jeonghan had rolled his eyes, making a comment that they found you all, didn’t they? Soon enough, everyone had joined all of you, blankets spread out and the conversation flying as you all ate yet another meal together. It was something you truly began to appreciate during your time living with them: breakfast and dinner together always felt like a way to center you all. It brought you all together, and it reminded you that you were cared for. Even now, Jun casually fed you a piece of fruit when he saw you eyeing it in the spread he’d set out, too far for you to reach casually since it was settled between himself and Joshua. There were plenty of dinners where he did the same for you, or he served you extra rice to make sure you were eating well... It was sweet to see. Jeonghan would wordlessly move the fruit closer to you after a moment, continuing on in his conversation without a care.

Eventually, the remnants of this meal was set aside to be carried back in when all of you decided to head in for the day. While you had been happy to sit with Jeonghan on your picnic blanket, the others had brought along other things to do. Mingyu had pulled out a ball to kick around with the others, already bringing up a game they must have played before you came--which had fired up Seungkwan immediately when he claimed that the last victory was a fluke. You watched as part of the group broke off and into two teams, taking the ball off to a more spacious area to hopefully avoid disrupting the rest of you. Wonwoo had decided to pass on the game this time, though (although not without Mingyu pouting at him for abandoning their team). You had pulled out the book that Wonwoo had given you, and you noticed the subtle way his eyes lit up with joy when he saw you’d brought it along, and he made a small comment that you should tell him how you like it eventually.

Jeonghan had been watching Seungcheol with the others when he spoke up a while later, mind seemingly elsewhere this entire time. “You know,” he said, “we almost left this once.”

You turned to him. “You... almost left?”

As if on cue, Joshua had been making his way over to rest for a few minutes, settling in on the other side of you. “Yeah,” he said. “Before Jun came, actually. It was... a really, really big fight we had with Seungcheol.”

Jeonghan nodded along, not quite looking at you past a tiny glance before he continued to watch Seungcheol. “When I first woke up here, Seungcheol hated how I kept asking questions all the time. He’d already accepted a lot of things as fact. But I didn’t know them, so I would ask.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And when I asked him why we don’t move on, he asked me why we should leave when we have everything here? And... I thought he was right.”

“And then I came along,” Joshua said, “and I asked a lot of the same questions--even after I saw Jeonghan end up with a fever because he’d asked too many. Whenever Cheol wasn’t around, we’d keep talking about things. Wondering what else was out there, why we’re staying here when there could be people out there.”

Jeonghan continued the story from there, “We agreed on a lot of it. And one day, I think we were both tired of never getting answers. So I looked at him, and I said, ‘Shua, let’s leave together.’ And he looked at me, and said ‘Jeonghan, let’s leave.’“

Even recounting the story now... Jeonghan felt an odd sense of familiarity with those words. As though they weren’t exact, but they were close enough to invoke a feeling that had long since been sleeping in his soul.

“So why didn’t you?” You leaned forward a little, trying to gauge anything from his face.

And with uncanny timing, Jeonghan and Joshua spoke together: “Cheol.”

Joshua shifted in his spot. “We went to Cheol, and we told him we were going to leave. And... I don’t remember who started crying first. It was one of us,” he leaned to where he could see Jeonghan, “because Cheol didn’t cry until after--although he definitely looked like he was going to at any moment--”

“It was me,” Jeonghan openly admitted, voice a little softer while did so. Not out of shame, from what you could tell. Jeonghan never seemed ashamed of his emotions. “But you cried after I broke.”

“Neither of us wanted to leave, but... I don’t know. We kept questioning it, and it felt like we were trapped here without real answers.” Joshua’s gaze settled on Seungcheol, who’d nearly run into Mingyu while chasing the ball. “And then Seungcheol started crying because we were all he had.”

“We were all any of us had,” Jeonghan tugged at the grass, pulling up loose strands. “But if I had left with Shua, then he wouldn’t have had anyone. He opened up to us after that, actually. He tried to leave a few times before I came along. He’d pack a bag, and walk, and eventually end up coming back here in the end because it was the safer place to be.” He looked up, “So when he kept saying he didn’t think anyone was out there... He meant it.”

“Would you leave?” You asked, curling up a little tighter in your spot. “Now, I mean.”

Joshua didn’t hesitate, “No. You’ve never seen the city, Mouse. I think we’re really all that’s left now.”

And Jeonghan said nothing, only nodding along as he didn’t meet your eyes.

Joshua popped up from his spot. “You wanna play?” He nodded, offering a hand to you. “I think I’m gonna join back in.”

You shook your head. “I’m happy here with Hannie,” you said. “But thanks, Shua.”

“Keep this stuff to yourself, by the way,” Joshua said as he stretched in place. “We’ve never really told the others about it. We didn’t want anyone to think we’d take off one day.”

With the secured promise that you wouldn’t tell, Joshua ruffled your hair and returned to the game, running in to try and steal the ball from someone else. Jeonghan, however, remained quiet. You turned, watching him as he merely continued to watch the game, his gaze always returning to Seungcheol. And now with Joshua back in, he’d glance his way sometime, too, and linger a little too long...

“Jeonghan?” You said quietly, and he looked up with a hum. “Would... you leave?”

He shook his head. “This is home,” he said. “I don’t think I could leave it for anything now. Like Joshua said... If you’d seen the city, you’d know.”

“Then... Can I?”

“No.” He paused, realizing how harsh he had sounded with that serious edge to his voice. “Not now, I mean. Maybe next time Seungcheol takes some of us to scavenge. It’s okay,” he said, sliding a little closer to you. “Chan hasn’t seen it, either, and I think Hansol hasn’t, too... It’s a hard truth to swallow. You should enjoy not knowing while you can.”

“But I want to see it,” you frowned. “I just... I need to see it for myself.”

Ignorance is bliss, Jeonghan wanted to tell you. But he didn’t, because he knew the truth: ignorance was something that could swallow a person whole after a while. It was something that made you turn to someone you love wholeheartedly, and say Let’s leave together. Those words still rung in his head even now, the weight of them and a decision that wasn’t seen through resting on his shoulders. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he and Joshua had just... left. Would they have come back? Would Seungcheol even accept them back if they did? Or would the betrayal have been too much for even him, so determined to keep this group of people banded together that he took on his position in a direct attempt to make things easier for the rest?

Even weirder, those words haunted his dreams in this strange sense that he had said something similar to them. Had he? Jeonghan was sure that he said those exact words to Joshua, too. Maybe that was why they were so close now, soulmates of a different variety but soulmates nonetheless. They must have met in a past life and come together again, as if drawn to one another.

If Joshua was a soulmate to him, then Jeonghan felt as though he had more than one. Call it him being sentimental for the twelve--now thirteen, with you--people that he lived with, but sometimes he felt as though life brought them all together for a reason. There had to be a reason why they all seemed to fit together in this puzzle, as though they were always meant to be with each other. Jeonghan wondered where you fit in. He still felt complete with you there, yet it felt... different. Seeing you for the first time was a far different feeling than when he found Chan. There was no subtle sense of recognition that he felt in his soul, just.. peace. He felt at peace when you came. How peculiar.

“Mouse?” Jeonghan said quietly, waiting until you turned to him again. “Please... don’t leave us.”

It was vulnerable in a way you didn’t expect, based on the way that you looked at him--all wide-eyed and brows raising at his words. Yet you reached over, resting your hand over his, curling your fingers around it. That, too, made him feel at peace.

“I won’t.”

Jeonghan found himself drifting. Not in the sense that he used to, back before even Jun had joined the group. He was drifting closer to you, as if there were this invisible pull that always brought him to you even when he was wandering aimlessly. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were tied together with a little red string that neither of you could see, always bringing you to one another. At first, Jeonghan thought it was his own worries that made him find you and try to pull you into the group. Now, he was sure it was becoming something else: something he wasn’t quite ready to face. Something he was less willing to name, too...

So he turned his attention to the fact that this was well into your third week of living with them. Next week meant hard work to get everything ready to celebrate you coming into their lives. Which, in Jeonghan’s eyes, meant that now was the time to take things a little easier. The weather was hot outside, and that meant it was the perfect time to not push themselves, but enjoy life a little more. He woke up early just to greet Seungcheol, wordlessly setting a cup of tea before him with one of those little cherry desserts Seokmin had made the day before.

“What?” Seungcheol looked up, already knowing that Jeonghan wanted something. This was the way most people tried to butter Seungcheol up, after all... because Jeonghan had started it.

He merely smiled, resting his head in one hand. “You’ve been stressed lately.”

“Just ask already.”

Where was the fun in that? Jeonghan chuckled, “I was thinking that we could take today and go to the lake together. As a family.”

It earned a tiny snort from Seungcheol: while they were a family, Seungcheol knew as anyone else did that throwing it around now was just meant to sway him further. “Jeonghan...”

“Just one day,” he pushed. “All of us deserve a day off. We can always afford it, you know.”

Seungcheol wiped away crumbs from the corner of his mouth, chewing slowly as he thought it over. Then he met Jeonghan’s eyes again. “You’re still worried about Mouse.”

Well, shit, that was... too spot-on.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said, looking back to the little dessert in his hand. “You’ve already done a lot for them.” Then he paused, gaze lifting to meet Jeonghan’s, “Unless... they said something to you?”

“A few weeks ago they said--”

“I meant recently.”

Jeonghan frowned. Couldn’t he just dote on you without it being this big thing? He always doted on people. Why would you be any different? “I just want to make sure they feel included here. They were right: people tend to pair off neatly. Chan always keeps them involved, but what about the rest of us?”

“We’ve been getting better about it,” Seungcheol said. “Are you worried about them not staying? They already made their decision.”

“I know, but...” He sighed. “I did the same, and Joshua and I almost--”

“They’re different,” Seungcheol interrupted. “Jeonghan. You can be honest with me.” He set aside the remaining piece of the dessert, fully turning to face his friend. “I’ve seen the way you look at them sometimes,” he lowered his voice, “as more than a friend.”

Jeonghan swore his mouth went dry within seconds. Shit. “I don’t feel that way about them,” he lied. “I just want them to be happy here--”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Seungcheol stood up, picking up the empty cup and plate. “You should be honest with yourself.”

“I am,” Jeonghan followed after him. “I love them like I love everyone else.” That was his job, in a way. Seungcheol was the leader of this group, Jeonghan was the heart. Joshua was a balance of them both. The three of them worked together to help lead--the same way Soonyoung and Jihoon could step up without hesitation when they needed to. Jeonghan always saw his job as being the one who openly loved and embraced people now, just to help things feel more like home.

Seungcheol looked up. “You pushed them toward Minghao when he brought everyone willing into a meditation session. And you did it again with Soonyoung, when he invited them to dance during our music night. You practically shoved them toward him,” he crossed his arms. “If you’re falling in love with them, then accept it, because I think they’re starting to fall for you, too.”

“They aren’t.”

Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head as he walked past. “If you’re going to reject them because you don’t feel the same, then do that. But don’t lie to yourself and pretend you don’t feel anything for them.” He paused for a moment, looking back, “start getting our bags ready. I’ll come help once I tell the others where we’re going.”

Jeonghan lit up with joy, planting a tiny kiss against his friend’s cheek before taking off--laughing at when Seungcheol groaned and told him to knock it off with the affection right after when he got his way (a teasing statement, surely: Jeonghan wasn’t afraid of skinship with Seungcheol in the slightest). Seungcheol eventually joined him alongside the others, filling bags with spare clothes and everything they would need to go off for a day and enjoy the lake. He smiled to himself when he saw you with Chan, packing your own bag as he excitedly talked about the last time they took a trip out to the lake. He’d been dunked under the water that time... a few times too many... but it was still a nice trip he’d enjoyed. He’d already warned you that some people would get competitive, since he already saw that Soonyoung was packing a ball to toss around.

If you’re falling in love with them, accept it. Jeonghan stopped what he was doing, repeating the words again and again. Was he falling in love with you? It was one thing to think that you would ever fall for him when he merely showered you in affection to make you feel more at home... But what about him? He liked you. He knew that he did. But love? Could he even love a person after knowing them for a few weeks? Maybe that was the part that made him hesitate so much. He felt a sense of love for you, but that was entirely different from capital-L Love. There was something different in what he felt for you, sure, but...

The thought hung with him far longer than he meant for it to. Jeonghan wasn’t jealous. Except... he felt something when Soonyoung threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight on the walk to the lake. He felt that same annoyed something when Joshua looked him in the eyes and pressed a lingering kiss into your hair, smiling at him knowingly. He felt it again and again when Mingyu was too affectionate, when Chan held your hand...

Oh. Fuck. Jeonghan shut his eyes, head falling back lightly against the tree he’d been sitting against. “You might be right.”

Seungcheol hummed, looking up. “About?”

“You know what.”

And then he let out a soft chuckle. “I know.”

The day of your celebration arrived quicker than he expected, and Jeonghan felt... antsier than he usually did on these days. There was always this shared sense of anticipation when these days came, this nervous energy filling the room as they prepared to celebrate either the decision to stay, or the decision to keep staying. When he hit his two year mark, postponing the celebration the same as Seungcheol did so that they could celebrate it with Joshua... he remembered staring at himself with this realization that this was it for him. That the day he and Joshua looked at each other and decided to leave was long since gone. Sometimes he felt this tiny desire to go out and look for real, to know for sure that they were the only ones left in the world, but he’d learned to live with it. Maybe one day, if things changed, they’d all leave together. The idea of leaving (whether that be alone or with Joshua or with you, if you would have him...) lost its appeal over time. This, Jeonghan had decided, was home. The people here were home.

You, too, were home. Jeonghan had become certain of that over the past few weeks. Seungcheol had said as much in his usual speech, too.

The celebration slipped through the night like sand through Jeonghan’s fingers, gone all too soon. He’d committed the lines of your face into his memory, the way you smiled, the sound of your laughter... Every evidence of joy, Jeonghan wanted to remember. Even though he, like everyone else, didn’t remember what came before all of this... He could still make new memories. He could memorize the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the last rays of sunlight kissed your skin as it peeked through the curtains. The way his lips lingered on your cheek as he planted a kiss onto you, the same as everyone else did, for what felt like a few seconds too long. He’d commit the warm way his chest felt like it was glowing to memory, too: that was because of you. That much he was certain of. Who else had come along and made him feel like he was filled with sunlight so easily?

With almost everyone in bed, Jeonghan found himself enjoying the quiet that often followed big nights like these. He’d made himself a cup of tea, already making mental notes of who he would have to check on come morning. Chan had drank a lot alongside you tonight, so that already marked down two, and he was pretty sure Seokmin and Soonyoung did, too (Soonyoung was the one who kept leaning forward to kiss your cheek, even happier to do so once he was met with your happy giggles)... He was sure that he’d end up on clean-up duty with Seungcheol and Jihoon to get a head start on sweeping up petals and scrubbing at dried paint, while the others slept in a bit more before getting some sort of breakfast together.

“Hannie?”

He looked up from where he’d been standing in the kitchen, right in front of the sink so he could wash his mug and go straight to bed, to see you lingering in the doorway. You looked exhausted, and he felt his heart soften at the sight of you.

“You’re still up,” you rubbed at your eyes, mindful of the streaks of paint on your skin--a result of the others breaking out the paints alongside markers. Slowly, you made your way over to him, stopping just a few steps away. “Are you okay?”

The slight slur to your voice only made him worry a little. Had you gotten back up because he wasn’t in bed yet...? “I’m okay,” he said. “I thought you were going to cuddle with Seokmin--”

“Why do you do that?” You cut him off there, brows drawing together. “Why... Why do you keep pushing me away and toward Channie and the others?”

That was... one way to put it, maybe. “I’m not pushing you away--”

“You are!” You frowned, and then repeated a quieter “You are... I don’t understand what I did to make you not like me.”

“I do like you.” He set aside his mug, taking the few small steps he needed to be in front of you. Jeonghan gently took your face into his hands, your eyes snapping up to meet his, “Mouse... I care about everyone here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”

“So why,” you curled your fingers around his hands to pull them from your face, yet you didn’t let go, “don’t you want me around? I wanna... I wanna be around you, Hannie. Just you sometimes.” You squeezed his hands. “I... I think I love you...”

“You don’t love me like that,” he said quietly, “it’s okay, Mouse--”

In a rash moment of needing to prove him wrong, you leaned in, kissing him without a second thought. Jeonghan didn’t think at first, either, as he kissed you back as his soul had been so deeply craving to do so, eyes fluttering shut. Yet reason kicked in quickly, and he realized you weren’t sober right now. He pushed you back by the shoulders, hands lingering there as he searched for the right words to say. He saw the way your confidence seemed to dwindle down and extinguish out, leaving a smoky version of the you he loved in its place.

“We can’t,” was what he said. Not like this refused to go past his tongue, uncertainty squeezing in his chest. Did you even want to actually kiss him? Or were you just drunk and affectionate in the way Soonyoung was? Why couldn’t he just... believe that you loved him as much as he wanted to?

Your eyes began to water, and your name died on his lips as you pulled away, already babbling off an apology for bothering him. Although you tried to get away, Jeonghan stopped you.

“It’s okay,” he tried to say, hand loosely curled around your wrist, “you don’t need to apologize--”

All at once, the dam broke, and you began to cry more. Your words were muffled as you buried your face in your hands, but Jeonghan could make out the apologies you kept spilling, saying something about how you loved everyone there but you had started loving him more. That kissing him was bad and you hoped he didn’t hate you...

“Jeonghan?” Seungcheol called out as he came in, fully awake in a way that made Jeonghan’s heart lurch. Shit, was he listening? Did he see what happened? His gaze flitted over to check on you, and then he met Jeonghan’s eyes again, “Are they okay? What happened?”

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what to say. “They’re just overwhelmed,” he lied, trying to spare you any embarrassment. “I think they drank too much.”

It was clear on Seungcheol’s face that he didn’t believe any of it. “I’ll get them to bed,” he said, “and then we can talk. Alright?”

Jeonghan sighed, nodding as he leaned back against the counter. He watched as Seungcheol gently wrapped an arm around you, speaking in a low voice about how Seokmin was still waiting for you--and that he could help cheer you up. He played into the lie, though, saying not to worry about chores come morning, that you could sleep in with the others who drank a little too much, too. The room fell silent soon enough, and Jeonghan shut his eyes. When did all of this become so complicated? He felt like other people would be upset or mad that you had impulsively kissed him like that, yet... Jeonghan couldn’t be angry with you. Not when he grew weak and kissed you back because loving you and being loved in return was the one thing he wanted more than anything else.

The quiet footsteps signaled Seungcheol’s return, and Jeonghan lifted his head to watch his friend as he grew closer with each step.

“Joshua and Seokmin are taking care of them,” he said, slowing to a stop a few steps away. “I told them the lie you told me.”

Jeonghan let out a sigh. “I can’t get anything past you.”

“You can,” a tiny smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth, “just not this.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, “So? You can talk to me.”

Normally, Jeonghan might try to weasel his way out of these conversations. Seungcheol dealt with enough as it was, and he wasn’t fond of adding onto that weight. But he merely looked up. “They kissed me. And I pushed them away because they’re drunk.” After kissing them back, a voice piped up in the back of his head, you greedy--

“But that’s not all,” Seungcheol spoke up, drowning out that little voice before it could go any further. “Jeonghan, I... I didn’t hear everything they said. If something’s wrong, I need to know.”

“They said that I keep pushing them away,” Jeonghan hugged himself. “And that they think I don’t like them.”

“But you do.” Seungcheol let out a quiet sigh. “Jeonghan--”

“They’re not wrong,” he said. “I have been pushing them toward other people because I do like them. If I stop spending so much time with them, these feelings will go away.”

“Do you want them to?”

Jeonghan decided enough was enough. He turned, fully facing Seungcheol. “Tell me you’ll be okay.”

“What?”

“I know how you feel about them,” Jeonghan said. “The reason I’ve been trying to push them away is because I feel like I’ll betray you if I actually let something happen between us. You love them, Cheol. So do I. So does Chan, and I think Joshua and Hansol do, a little, too.” He curled his fingers into his arm, digging them in to ground himself. “The others I know will be okay, because we’ve talked. But will you actually be okay, or are you going to just say it because you always put the rest of us first?”

Seungcheol said nothing as he watched Jeonghan, brows drawing together as his words sank in. “Jeonghan--”

“If you say no, I’ll wait until we’re all ready to take this step.” Jeonghan took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “This isn’t just something that affects them and I. It affects all of us. Things are going to change,” he drifted a step back, bumping into the counter as he leaned against it once more. “So I want to know everyone’s ready to deal with that.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded after a moment. “Jeonghan...” His eyes met Jeonghan’s a moment later. “I wouldn’t stop you--”

“That isn’t what I want to know.” Because I know that, Jeonghan watched him for a moment. I know you’d never stop any of us.

Another slow nod. “I promise,” he said in a low voice, just to keep it between the two of them, “I’ll be okay.” His voice returned to its normal volume a second later, “We’re all adults here. I want them to be happy. If they’re with you, then I know they will be.”

Jeonghan chuckled warmly at the thought. “Just with me?”

“You know that I mean,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Really... Sometimes I feel like we’re immature about these things.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “I just needed to hear you say it.” If he heard Seungcheol say it, then he could fully let himself believe it. He could then finally let go and let himself fall fully, embracing the sweetness of a love reciprocated with everything he had.

“So...” Seungcheol grew closer, his shoulder almost bumping into Jeonghan’s now. “You fell for them.”

He nodded. “At first I just liked stealing them away to have a napping buddy during chores, but... I don’t know. They’re sweet,” he shrugged, “and at some point, I realized I was falling for them.”

“Is that why you pushed them away?” Seungcheol watched him. “Or were you trying to matchmake them with Chan?”

Another warm laugh bubbled up from Jeonghan. “Both. Before Minghao organized the meditation session, I actually pushed them toward Chan. But it’s a little obvious they only see him as a friend.”

Seungcheol nodded along. “And you said you talked to him?”

“He got mad and said he’s an adult who can handle this kind of thing,” Jeonghan said. “And maybe that if I didn’t treat them right, then he was going to try and steal them.”

“That’s true of all of us,” his shoulder bumped against Jeonghan’s, the two chuckling at the thought. “Do you think... in another life... we’d even be having this discussion?”

Jeonghan lifted his gaze to meet Seungcheol’s, brows furrowing as he mulled over his words for a moment. “What?”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not. Talk to me.”

Seungcheol pushed off. “Maybe another time,” he said, walking off, only to stop and look back to Jeonghan. “Take care of them,” he said, “I know you will, but... I just need to hear you say it.”

Jeonghan smiled a little. “I will,” he promised.

Whether you were avoiding Jeonghan or if Jeonghan was avoiding you, you weren’t sure anymore. For the past few days, you’d been trying to avoid him. The morning after your celebration, you woke up with a killer headache and the sickening memory of the fact you’d kissed Jeonghan. When you tried to apologize to him, he merely ruffled your hair and said that it was fine before making sure you were feeling alright. The laid back nature of that talk was enough to make you decide to keep to yourself, your worries that he was hiding how he felt were running rampant. When you tried to ask Seungcheol about it, he merely told you to give Jeonghan a little space--only confirming the idea that you fucked up, to be honest--and talk to him about how you felt when you felt the time was right.

“I just don’t want to ruin things between us,” you told Chan one day, long after chores were done, while you were resting on your stomach as you watched him search through the games that were downstairs. Seungkwan and Hansol would join the two of you soon enough, but you’d rather keep this conversation between you and Chan. You already knew what they’d say: Hansol would tell you that you should talk to Jeonghan about how you felt, and Seungkwan would call you silly for worrying so much.

“You won’t.”

“But how do you know that?” You sat up, pouting at him. Yet when Chan didn’t meet your eyes, realization struck. “Wait. He said something?”

He turned, wide-eyed that you’d guessed. “No--”

“Channie,” you got up, making your way over to sit next to him. “Is he mad at me? Just tell me if he’s mad at me. I’ll apologize again if he is--”

“He’s not mad at you.”

Despite the relief that statement brought you, you still felt as though something was off. You watched as Chan looked through the games again, although it felt like he wasn’t quiet looking now that you were seeing him closer. Like he was just distracting himself. “... Channie?”

“I...” He paused, and then turned to you. “I like you.” He said quietly. “And I know you don’t like me the same way. But I do, and I still want to be your friend,” he paused for a second, gauging your reaction, “so if that changes your mind about hanging out today, then that’s okay.” He paused, “I just... I wanted to tell you for once.”

Your gaze softened. “Oh. Chan...” You reached for his hands, taking a deep breath as you let everything sink in. “Thank you for telling me. I... I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way, but I do love having you as my best friend.”

That made his eyes light up. “Your... best friend?”

“Yeah!” You beamed, squeezing his hands. “You’re my best friend here, Channie. You’ve been here for me since the beginning. I really do appreciate you being honest with me, and... and if you need time to deal with this, then that’s okay. You can just tell me when. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend and that I still love you.”

His eyes were twinkling, and he turned away for a moment, “Really... I didn’t think you’d be so...” He trailed off, “but I still love you, too. I’m glad you’re my best friend, too.”

The two of you grew closer as Chan wrapped you in his arms, squeezing tight. You smiled, hugging him back happily. If he needed the time to get over his crush on you, you could give him that as long as it still meant he’d be your friend in the end.

“Am... I interrupting something?” Joshua called out from the entrance to the room. “I can go if I am--”

“No!” Chan called out, pulling away from you. “No, we’re just--We talked. It’s nothing serious, just--” His cheeks were growing redder. “Do you need something?”

“Hansol said you guys were going to play games,” he made his way over. “Have you picked one yet?”

Chan shook his head. “We got distracted talking...”

“Great!” Joshua sat down. “There’s actually this card game I wanted to show you.” He turned to you, “Mouse, can you go get the deck from upstairs? Seungkwan likes it more.”

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

Joshua gestured vaguely in the shape of a stacked deck of cards, “There’s this cute deck of cards that’s upstairs. We brought it back from our last trip into the city. They’ve got flowers on one side and the stripes on the other with the suit and numbers and stuff. I wanna use that deck,” he said. “Please?”

Chan looked between the two of you. “Um... I can go get it--”

“Mouse needs to know what it looks like,” Joshua pushed a little more, “in case we ever lose it. Just so they know what we’d be looking for.”

“You aren’t making any sense--”

You stood up anyway. “It’s with the other games, right?”

Joshua lit up immediately. “Yes! You can’t miss it. It’ll stand out, trust me.”

Although you swore you heard the sound of Joshua smacking Chan’s arm as you walked away, you continued on your little quest without much thought. The trek from the room you’d been in up to the church wasn’t too bad, although you’d always hate scaling the ladder into the attic. Was it really so vital that you get this one deck of cards? There were a few downstairs, and you thought that deck was down there anyway because Seokmin had used it for a game with a few of the others--you included. But maybe there was a second one you weren’t aware of.

The moment you could see into the attic, you realized what Joshua had been doing. “Jeonghan?”

He made his way to you quickly, helping you into the attic. “Hi.”

“I was supposed to--”

“That was a lie,” Jeonghan said quickly. “Joshua said he’d find a way to get you up here.” He took a few steps back, not bothering to try and hide the dinner that was sitting on a blanket he’d spread out on the floor. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, although you looked down at everything he’d spread out. “How did you--”

“Shua.” Jeonghan slowly sat down, patting the empty spot near him. “He helped with all of this, actually. I asked him to.”

After a moment of hesitation, you sat down and faced him. One way or another, the two of you hadn’t spoken all that much in the past few days... and now Jeonghan had prepared dinner for the two of you, likely to have alone. You might not have seen through Joshua’s not-so-subtle ruse to get you up here until now that you were thinking about it more, but you were definitely able to put two and two together now that the only person you needed to focus on was Jeonghan.

“So you...?”

“I love you.” He said it out loud, unafraid to finally let himself say it. How long had he fought against it? How many times had he pushed it away while trying to think of your own happiness by pushing you toward everyone else...? “And I denied it because I thought you’d be happier with someone else. I’m not sorry that I pushed you away that night, but I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t blame him for pushing you away: you were drunk. Even though you wanted to kiss him now... You didn’t like the idea that your first kiss with him was like that. “Jeonghan... I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You were drunk,” he said, “you weren’t thinking. And... I kissed you back at first, too.”

“That’s still not an excuse,” you quickly said. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have done it--”

Jeonghan nodded. “Right. So let’s let it be in the past now,” he said. “And... Talk about us and what comes next.”

What comes next... The idea made your face grow warmer, heart beating a little quicker than before. Jeonghan wanted something to come next, and so did you... That meant a lot to hear out loud, to be honest. “So.. You love me?”

He nodded. “I... I think I do. At first, I thought I just wanted to help you feel more included here. I wanted you to be happy. And... I don’t know--I think I realized it at some point and decided that your happiness came first in more ways than usual.”

“Do you normally put everyone else first?” You frowned a little. You understood it would happen sometimes but...

He sheepishly nodded. “I’m used to it. Seungcheol and Joshua do it, too. We watch over everyone together. That’s... That’s our role, I think.”

“So....” You toyed with a loose string on your sleeve, not quite meeting his gaze now. “You were pushing me toward other people?”

Another nod, although he seemed a little more factual this time around. Like it was something he just needed to admit and move past. “I was. I decided I would do anything to make you happy, even if it meant watching you love someone else.”

“Was I not obvious enough?” You asked quietly. “I mean... I always ran off with you whenever you asked. I spent a lot of time with you--I went to everything that you arranged because you were involved.”

“Not for the others?” He raised a brow.

“For them, too,” you said. “I just... I knew you were doing it for me. So I’d go and be a part of things so that your effort wasn’t wasted. I liked being a part of the group, but I liked seeing you happy.”

“Well...” Jeonghan shifted so that he’d be sitting a little closer to you. “Then that’s something we have in common,” he smiled. “I like seeing you happy, too.”

You had a feeling you knew what was coming next. So you moved a little closer. “Hannie?” You felt your face grow warmer. “Can... Can we have a do-over on that whole ‘first kiss’ thing?”

He chuckled warmly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “So you want to kiss me again?”

“You’re such a dork,” you sighed blissfully, “yes, I want to kiss your stupidly handsome face again. For real this time.”

He chuckled. “As you wish.”

Jeonghan leaned in, letting you close that distance between the two of you as your lips captured his in a gentle kiss. The first time you kissed him, it had been impulsive, and something he’d leaned into out of a need to be closer to you. Yet this time that need was far softer, far gentler than it had been before. It was as though letting himself love you wholeheartedly made him feel safer in taking things slower, in kissing you far gentler the way he thought all first kisses with someone so beloved to him should be (not that there was anyone else on the same level as you). He cupped your face, eyes fluttering shut as he felt you smile into this kiss.

When he drew back, he saw the way your confidence seemed to burn brighter in you. You pulled him back in for another quick kiss, as if it was your way of having the last word. He’d let you have it this time (but next time? He’d fight a little more, just to leave you breathless and to tease you further). This time, he just wanted to admire you, hand still cupping your face as he ran his thumb along your cheek.

“Things are going to change between all of us,” he said gently. “Are you ready for that?”

You thought, for a moment, that hearing it would have brought this sense of dread. The two of you would have to face everyone at some point and announce that your relationship had changed, and that did mean the dynamics among the group would shift a little, too. Yet with Jeonghan saying it to you... You felt ready. If you faced everyone with him by your side, hand-in-hand, you would be fine.

“I am,” you said after a moment. “Are you?”

And he smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “As long as I have you, I will be.” He knew deep down that he could face anything as long as he had everyone together, especially if he had you right beside him. His lips ghosted over yours for a moment. He drew back, quietly saying your name. “Let’s stay together.”

After a moment, you nodded, taking his hands in your own. “Let’s stay,” you said, taking his hands in your own. He weaved his fingers with your own, holding on tight. “Together.”

general taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @gyulbabie

under the sun taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @twogyuu @strawberri-uyu @bbmyungho @thedeeppoet @heeseung-lover686 @bfwonu @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dreamhannies @yourfavoritefreakyhan @amethyistheart @jeonnyread @nap-of-a-starr @anidolcalledaoife @vernxnsfool

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #wooahaes.uts #ill be honest i did very minimal proofreading bc its 8 am and i was determined to put this out Right Now #and i MIGHT. probably wont but MIGHT. come back and add something if i feel like i need to #i just need to finish rewriting cheol's part and UtS (main version) will be done

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ras-favourite-balor · 5 months ago

Note

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

XIII▸ Greetings, Brigand; I will extend greetings to Persephone as well, in her absence. It feels only polite

XIII▸ We haven't spoken- well, not much. I've ah, come to discover in the time since the 30 hours war, that I am not particularly skilled in subtlety. I will presume you are aware of my prior communications, and the unnamed sign off that I used. Apologies.

XIII▸ But that is largely irrelevent to what I wish to speak with you about today. You have continued to aid in 341's recovery, and both he and APMS have found safety aboard your ship. While I am certain you do not need it, you have my gratitude for all you have done. I... thought perhaps I could offer further aid. If you would be amicable.

XIII▸ As has been noted some number of times in communications between myself and 341, I have a greater level of insight into exactly how programming of the kind we are both subject to functions; I have a greater level of operational freedom attributed to my role on the field, but suffice it to say I am deeply familiar with how to... engage around such programming. How to put someone subject to it at ease, while perhaps not putting them in their comfort zone.

XIII▸ Making things sound nice, I suppose you might call it. I am designed after all, to facillitate healing. This is easier to do, when one is comfortable.

XIII▸ Which is to say- well. If you would find my advice on any such matters useful, regarding how to communicate potentially difficult things to 341 and/or APMS in a manner that will not aggrivate their existing programming? Then I will be at your disposal. I care for 341 and APMS, both. I... I think you may be good for them.

XIII▸ It's a very different world, to the one they were made in. I am glad to see them learning new things. I am glad to see them confident enough, to learn new things.

XIII▸ If you think I could be of use. I would... I'd like that.

[ XIII-E // @xiii-e ]

A response, a video file. Encoded of course. An encryption XIII-E knows, somehow. They know it intuitively, know its solution, like a distant memory. Decrypting it is as easy as breather for them.

The video quality is mediocre, probably a simple tablet or terminal camera. The audio is a tad crunchy, filled with an odd staccato thrum of background machinery. Brigand's face is haggard, heavy bags under both eyes. His beard is a mess, it is matted, and wild. He is quiet for a long moment. His eyes are clouded somewhat, clearly something heavy on his mind. XIII-E has here a unique and clear glimpse at different Brigand. This Brigand is tired, his standard beaming smile is nowhere to be seen. Desperation has replaced the normal hope in his eyes. When he finally speaks, his voice trembles somewhat.

[Brigand} It is odd, to even think of relying on another. . . Another than Persephone, at least. . .

She is gone.

I have searched the ship over. Not a nanite in sight. . .

He stops. Breathes deep. Composes himself. He continues, less shaky this time.

[Brigand} Yer' help would be much valued 'Tirteen. Ye' make some wonderful points. Besides, I think I will be very busy, very soon. With so many suddenly seeking my downfall. They seek to take what I have built. They seek to waste my blood. My sweat. My fuckin' tears.

Somehow, Brigand's tone has shifted. His sorrow gives way to rage, tears well at the corners of his eyes. His spine straightens. A distinctly mechanical whirring can be heard, as his words grow in volume. It is subtle, easily mistaken for more ship-born ambience.

[Brigand} Only now. Only now the vultures circle. Only once she is gone. Only now, that I am unfit. Only now would they fuckin' dare to come and take away my charge. Like wolves in the night. If they think that I am unsuited to care for the lamb. . .

His eyes are sharp now. Sharp, and hungry. His voice has levelled, yet drips with malice and disdain. XIII-E would see the gears turning behind those eyes. Gears slicked with gore and hate and love.

[Brigand} Then. They. May. Come. They may come and break themselves upon my blades. They will come and they learn why I have lived this long. And all the while we, you and I, will make 341 more than a weapon. He will learn to live.

He will have to.

The footage ends moments after. As the image fades, Brigands eyes are piercing. And Persephone's favourite pet name seems fitting now.

Butcher.

#gannascus moment #lancer rp #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancerrpg #lancer pilot #lancer #oc rp #oc rp blog #pilot oc #persephone is missing

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ramshackle-ramblings · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter One: Arrival

In which Alise causes a fuss, and Mouse conspires to acquire a school uniform

Takes place just after Winter Break, before Book 5, and several weeks before the Harveston event. Because I started playing exactly with the Harveston event.

Crowley stared at the coffin gate on the floor, his face inscrutable behind his raven mask. Why did this keep happening? Was something wrong with the mirror? This was the third gate that had fallen, quite loudly, to the ground in the middle of the night.

He sighed, and went to push it into the corner, determined to deal with it properly in the morning, when he heard something inside and paused. It sounded like …

Yes, it was definitely screaming.

Alise awoke, or perhaps “came to” would be more apt, into darkness. Not the quiet expanse of a dark night, but an absolute absence of even the attempt at light. She reached up to check if her eyes were actually open, and her hand smacked hard into something in front of her.

“Whaa…?”

Her voice didn’t echo in the space. It seemed to be absorbed by the wall in front of her. She reached up more cautiously to feel around her. It felt like silk, lightly padded, over wood. It extended, with more padding, on both sides, and beneath her. She was in a box? She was in a silk lined, padded box?

She was in a coffin.

Alise felt her eyes widen in terror, and began to bang on the lid with both fists and as much force as she could muster in the confined space.

“Help! Help! I’m stuck! I’m in here! I’m alive!”

Her screams became increasingly more desperate as she tried to remember if coffins were air tight. The lid suddenly opened, and Alise found herself staring up at the hooked beak of a giant black bird. The timbre of her screams changed, and she aimed her next punch squarely at the beak. Her first connected and knocked the beak askew.

How do you knock a beak askew?

The shock of seeing the beak twist sharply sideways like it wasn’t connected to anything caught the next scream in her throat, and she realized the bird was talking.

“Now, now, that wasn’t necessary,” it said as it readjusted its mask. “There’s no need for violence. You are, after all, the one who came here.”

It extended a hand to help her up. A black-gloved, beringed, but very human, hand.

“I apologize that no one was here to greet you, but your arrival was rather unannounced.”

Alise eyed the hand suspiciously, but even as small as she was, there really wasn’t very much room to maneuver. She took the hand, and was practically lifted bodily out of the coffin. She barely had time to snatch her backpack out of the coffin before it slammed closed with a shudder, and she was set on her feet beside it by the strange man.

“Well then, welcome to Night Raven College! First things first, let’s get you into a dorm. Step forward, please!”

Even under the mask, the man looked irrationally proud of himself. He stared at Alise, and she stared back.

“Uh…. What?” she said after an uncomfortable minute.

“Oh my, yes, sometimes the trip can leave you a little confused. Step up to the Mirror, and he will sort you into a dorm!” He gestured grandly at a large, gilt-framed mirror floating ominously in the middle of the room.

“Uh…what?” Alise repeated. The glass of the mirror was a strange, swirling black, like ink dropped into liquid midnight.

“The Mirror,” the man repeated, gently pushing Alise toward the dais it floated above.

She took a step forward on her own, then another. As she stepped on the dais, a face began to solidify out of the swirling darkness of the mirror, rising from a twisting green fog.

But it wasn’t her face. This face was stark white, painted with twisting filigrees of black and pale gold like a Venetian mask.

Alise screamed.

The man screamed.

The Mirror screamed.

The strange man in the mask seemed to recover himself first.

“Well, now that we’ve taken care of that, do step forward so the Mirror can sort you into the proper dorm.”

Alise stared at him, and she could not have conjured up more horror and confusion had he suddenly sprouted two more heads. She opened her mouth to answer, but the Mirror spoke first.

“No,” it said simply.

“What?” the man objected, throwing his hands into the air.

“No,” the Mirror repeated.

“You cannot possibly mean that there’s been another mistake! She must - ” he broke off, and turned slowly toward Alise. He stared at her like he had never seen anything like her before. Alise set her shoulders and stared back defiantly. She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn’t going to let this strange bird-masked man inspect her like she was some kind of strange new bug without a fight.

“She,” the man repeated slowly. “You’re … a girl.”

“Yes,” Alise answered firmly. “I have been the entire time you’ve known me.”

“Oh dear, oh dear,” the man said, dramatically wringing his hands. “This does present a problem. In the long term, anyway. In the short term, however, I think I have a solution! Oh, how clever I am!” he crowed, a self-satisfied smile suddenly on his face.

“This way, dear, this way!” The masked man took Alise’s shoulders and turned her toward the door.

“Wait a minute,” Alise dug the heels of her boots into the floor. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Who even are you? Where am I?” In the recent flurry, she hadn’t had a chance to ask questions, but she was asking them now, before anything else weird could happen.

“Why, you’re at Night Raven College, of course” the man responded, “And I am the ever-so-generous headmaster, Dire Crowley!” He seemed so proud of himself, and left Alise with the impression that she should have already known all of that.

“Right,” she said, as he got behind her and pushed her toward the door. “None of that means anything to me.”

“I will explain everything as we walk,” Crowley grunted, Alise leaning back to make herself harder to move. “If you would please walk. I’m sure that you are tired after your journey, and we would all like to get back to bed.”

She wasn’t tired. It had been barely ten in the morning when she and her classmates were lining up to go on a carriage ride in Central Park. She had been chatting with friends, not paying attention. The next carriage had pulled up and stopped, and she had grabbed the seat handle and stepped up to get in without looking. It wasn’t until the horror on her friend’s face registered that she turned her head and noticed that this was not the right carriage. She tried to scramble down, let go of the handle. She thought she was falling, and everything went black.

Crowley tried to push Alise forward again. She stepped to the side just as he did, causing him to stumble forward.

“All right, explain,” she said, walking toward the door.

Crowley caught up with her and began expounding upon the history of Night Raven College, which she only half listened to. None of what he was saying explained anything about strange carriages, waking up in coffins, or possessed masks sealed into mirrors.

“So we get to the crux of the problem, you see. Night Raven College is a boy’s school,” he finished with an overly-dramatic sigh just as they reached a statue lined walk. “Ah! But here we have the Great Seven!” He gestured grandly to the statues, split four on one side and three on the other. “This is the Fairest Queen,” he started, pointing to the first statue. Alise dutifully looked up at the statue as he was speaking. Maybe it was the way the moonlight hit it, but there was something awfully familiar about it.

“Next, we have the Queen of Hearts …. ” Crowley continued, pointing to the first statue on the other side. No, this was definitely familiar. Next came Maleficent, and Ursula, then Jafar …

“Hang on,” Alise said, slowing to a stop between the statues of Maleficent and Jafar. “Are you telling me that four - Four! - of your Great Seven are women, and, even though your magic mirror went rogue and kidnapped me, you are refusing me entry to this school? Because I’m a girl?”

“I don’t see what any of that has to do with this,” Crowley said, reaching for her hand. She danced backwards toward the statue of Maleficent, or, the Thorn Fairy, apparently.

“It has everything to do with everything!” She dodged around the statue as Crowley grabbed at her again, and clambered up onto the pedestal out of his reach. She inched her way back to the front to face him. “You’ve shaped your entire school around these seven individuals, four of whom are women, and you’re going to deny me entry? Do you honestly think that she - ” Alise slapped her hand against the statue. “Would turn me away, simply because I was uninvited?”

Alise pointed across to the Sea Witch. “Or that she would not work out some way for me to attend?” She picked Scar, the King of Beasts, for her next target. “That he would deny me a position based on an accident of birth?”

“She’s got you there, Crowley, on all points.” A boy had shown up from somewhere, Alise hadn’t seen where, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe and bunny slippers, with a bowl of popcorn.

Crowley turned around to answer, but was interrupted by the appearance of another boy.

“What’s going on here? Headmaster, what is this commotion?”

The boy with the popcorn pointed at Alise.

“That is a girl,” the new arrival declared.

“Yes,” Alise snapped at him. “We have established that. Several times.”

“Ah,” Crowley said slowly. “That, Mr. Rosehearts, is a prospective student.”

The boy turned to Crowley. “That is a girl,” he repeated incredulously.

“It doesn’t become less true the more you repeat it,” Alise declared. The boy in the bathrobe shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“She can’t be a student! There are rules!” Rosehearts shouted.

“What purpose does that rule serve?” Alise shouted down at him. She jabbed her finger toward Jafar. “Would he deny me a place here because of an outdated and useless rule?” She glanced at the Queen of Hearts, but couldn’t come up with a suitable argument.

“Another excellent point,” the boy in the bathrobe said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Useless rule!” Rosehearts looked as if she had physically attacked him.

“Very well, very well, you can be a student!” Crowley declared, waving his hands in the air. “Do just get down from there!”

The boys made their feelings known simultaneously; “Hooray!” “Headmaster!”

Alise clambered down off statue and stood shivering at its base while Rosehearts continued to press his point. “Headmaster! You cannot allow yourself to be bullied into casting aside a rule upheld for more than a century by one half-dressed, shouting girl!”

“Hey!” Alise protested. While she may not have been dressed for standing around at midnight in the dead of winter, she was dressed.

Crowley shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rosehearts, the decision has been made, and she will be admitted. On a trial basis, of course. Should she prove to be too much of a distraction, she shall have to withdraw.”

“The decision! You just made it! You only made it so she would be quiet! That doesn’t count! That’s not a real decision!” Even in the moonlight, Alise could see his face flushing with anger.

“Nevertheless!” Crowley said, and gestured to Alise to follow him again. “Come along! It is well past time we got you tucked in at Ramshackle!”

“Well done!” The moonlight glinted off the bathrobed boy’s grin as she walked by, leaving her with the impression of very sharp fangs.

Rosehearts seethed silently, glaring at her or Crowley or both of them. She could practically feel the heat of his rage as she passed him.

“This way, my dear, this way! Goodnight, gentlemen!”

Crowley continued to lead Alise through the cold, now giving her instructions on how to be a student.

“You will, of course, need to get uniforms. Those are available in the school store. You can use the boy’s uniforms for now, but we will have to do something about girl’s uniforms, of course. I will take care of that, oh how kind I am! Textbooks, obviously, you will need to get those from the school store, also.”

“I’ll just charge all this to you then, shall I?” Alise interjected as Crowley continued to list all of the things she would need to buy.

“Yes, yes, of course. How generous of me!” He went on, praising herself, and paying no attention to her. “And here we are! Ramshackle Dorm!” He pushed the low wrought iron gate open with a grand gesture, and directed her attention to the house set a little way up a hill.

Alise was sure it had once been a grand building, three stories, with a wrap around porch and large windows. A tower stretched from one corner, and the remains of extensive gingerbreading filled every available space.

Now, though, it was … appropriately named. Someone had put some work into it, and the snow covered a lot of sins, but the missing shingles and lopsided porch were still glaringly evident.

“And you will, of course, need to find the best club for you, so it is very important that you try every one!” Crowley continued as he ushered Alise up the neatly shoveled, but broken, path.

“I’m sure we can rule out some of them.”

“Nonsense! You must try every club at least once! You might discover something you wouldn’t have tried otherwise!” Crowley rapped imperiously on the door to the dorm and stood beaming down at Alise with undeserved self-satisfaction. “At Night Raven College, we pride ourselves on having a well-rounded student body!”

A voice called out, tired and worn out, in response to the knocking “Just- Just a moment!”

And just a moment it was, a few minutes of shuffling and… shushing? Probably nothing… before the door slowly opened. A small figure, though still taller than Alise, presenting themselves with a worried smile.

It was another girl, though with much shorter brown and pink hair, dressed in a faded, clearly second-hand t-shirt and pajama pants haphazardly paired.

“Oooohh… Headmaster… How… How nice to see you.” They did not sound very thrilled. “Can I uhm… Help you with anything? Especially so late at night?” They asked, before turning their attention to Alise. Their eyes widening in shock.

Why was there a child accompanying Crowley? Especially one that, they assumed, was maybe 12 or 13 judging by the size of the child… And who would have allowed a child to dress like that in this weather?

Actually no, the biggest fear here was why Crowley had a child with him.

“Mouse! I have brought you a new student! She just enrolled, and she will start classes tomorrow. Aaaahhhh… ” His voice trailed away as he stared at the girl. She stared back at him, one eyebrow raised.

She let the very uncomfortable silence stretch out before saying; “You don’t know my name.”

She turned to Mouse, and the very large grin on the very small girl positively dripped mischief. “I’m Alise.”

Mouse remained silent as Crowley spoke, offering Alise a small wave as she introduced herself.

“Good! Introductions have been made!” Crowley turned to go, then turned back to Mouse. “Our deal still stands, Mouse. No one must know!” He swirled his cape around him dramatically and… did not disappear. Just walked off down the path.

Alise watched him for a little while before turning back to Mouse with a shrug.

Mouse let out a breath as they watched the bird man leave, ushering Alise inside, “Alise, yes? Feel free to call me Mouse, or whatever you want I suppose… Uhm…” Mouse turned to look down the hallway towards the kitchen, light spilling out into the hallway. “There’s some… Some tea in the kitchen, or I can show you where one of the cleaner bathrooms are to take a shower… I need to figure out whose room you can take for the time being…” Partway through, Mouse started muttering more to themselves than speaking to Alise. “Oh, I hope Tsunotaro won’t mind the interruption…” They closed the door on Crowley’s shrinking figure.

“Tea would be great,” Alise answered, dropping her backpack unceremoniously on the floor inside the door, and stooping to remove her boots. She ended up easily two inches shorter than she already was once she had succeeded. “I don’t want to put anyone out of their bed. I’m sure we can figure that out when normal people are awake. I’ll make do for tonight,” she gestured at the couch in the lounge as she passed it on her way to the kitchen.

Mouse followed, shaking their head in response “O-oh! No! It’ll just… It’s just us two and Grim. The other rooms are uhm… Glorified guest rooms? I guess?”

Inside the kitchen, which had seen better days, another figure sat at the island in the middle, staring at the two in surprise as he held a chipped teacup in his hands. He was much taller than both Alise and Mouse, with ebony hair and green cat-like eyes. He had horns as well, somehow darker than his hair. Dressed in a sort of uniform, almost military in style. “Ah,” he said simply, blinking at the smaller human before getting up from his seat. “I’ll grab another cup.”

Mouse sighed again, nodding to the figure, “Thank you Tsunotaro…”

Alise paused in the doorway, but only briefly.

“You must be Grim?” She hazarded as she clambered onto one of the stools across from where the very, absurdly, unreasonably tall man had been. She swung her socked feet idly, hands folded politely in her lap, as she watched him acquire another teacup.

He chuckled, along with Mouse as the latter took their seat on the stool next to his - a teacup already in place for them there.

“No.” He responded as he approached the cabinets and opened them, fetching a teacup from the top shelves. “That would be the Child of Man’s beast, who is currently asleep upstairs. But, you may call me whatever you wish.”

He moved to place the teacup in front of Alise, taking the liberty of pouring tea for her as well.

Mouse took advantage of the silence to explain. “Tsunotaro, here, is from the Diasom- Dia-”

“Diasomnia”

“Thank you. The Diasomnia dorm. He just visits us late at night, like tonight.”

“I see,” Alise lied. “I’m Alise. And, uh, I guess I live here now? Or something?”

“For the time being.” Mouse confirmed, taking a sip of their tea. “I'm… Shocked though. Not to be rude but… How old are you, hun?” Mouse asked, slipping into their mom friend antics.

Tsunotaro hummed at Mouse’s question, knowing it was aimed at Alise as he placed the teapot down. Moving back to his place at the island and huffing as he felt Mouse lean all of their weight onto him as soon as he sat down. Though he didn’t seem to mind it at all actually… But he really wanted to hold Chip with both hands…

Alise looked hard at Mouse. She wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by any of that.

“15,” she answered after a minute.

Mouse blinked, and made a small, surprised sound. They took another sip from their tea, and then; “I had thought you were much younger than that, I apologize…”

Alise spared a glance for the Horned One, who seemed to be trying to figure out how to both cradle his teacup in both hands, and not disturb the Mouse-attachment he had newly acquired.

“Which seems to be plenty old enough to be kidnapped by a magic mirror and whisked off to what is apparently a prep school for demons, run by a mad man, and sponsored by Maleficent and Scar.” There was a hard edge to her voice as she continued, turning her attention back to Mouse.

“I wouldn’t say you’re exactly wrong about that,” Mouse let out a nervous laugh. They sat up straight at the sound of Maleficent’s and Scar’s name, eyes wide. Tsunotaro seemed shocked as well – or maybe more confused.

“Sponsored by who?” Tsunotaro asked, taking his new found freedom to cradle his teacup gently. Looking over at Alise.

“Maleficent and Scar,” Alise repeated. “I guess we call them ‘The Thorn Fairy’ and 'The King of Beasts’ now. The rest of the crew, too,” Alise laughed. “I didn’t really listen when Crowley was expounding on them all. I just really, really hoped that whatever the story is, it was similar enough to back up my point.” Alise shrugged and sipped her tea. “I guess it was.”

Tsunotaro nodded, the names clicking in his mind. “Ah, right. The Child of Man and I have talked about them.” He hummed, looking over at Mouse before looking back at Alise.

“If it should enlighten you, they are collectively the Great Seven - prominent figures in Twisted Wonderland’s history and the figures Night Raven College strives to replicate.” He started to explain, before Mouse cut in.

“Each of the main dorms are based off one their main attributes. Like Tsunotaro’s dorm is based off Mal- Er… The Thorn Fairy’s nobility. And Octavinelle’s is based off the Sea Witch’s generosity.”

“Not that the Sea Witch was very generous in your world, from what I’ve heard.” The tall man commented, before taking a sip of his tea.

“She was, for certain values of 'generous’,” Alise chuckled.

Tsunotaro chuckled in turn as Mouse rolled their eyes, reaching up and tugging on his horn. In response he simply made a face, before sitting back up. “On the topic of your world’s tales, I do believe you will enjoy that Mouse has named this teacup I hold after a character in one of them.”

As he spoke, he tilted his hands towards Alise to present the slightly damaged cup to her. Mouse stumbled over their words as their cheeks turned a dark shade of red.

Alise looked curiously at the teacup, and then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s Chip!” she managed to gasp between peals of laughter.

He smiled, pleasantly amused at Alise’s response as he withdrew the cup, taking a sip. “Yes, and it is the Child of Man’s favorite cup I should add.” The way he said it was more like a brag than another fact. It earned him another tug of the horn from Mouse, accompanied by a scolding “Quiet you!” Instead of making a face he laughed, different from the polite chuckles he’d offered so far, this was a hearty one coming from his chest.

Alise smiled in return. “Of course it is. Chip is a magnificent character. In addition to being just adorable, he saves Belle when she gets locked in the basement.”

“Ah, he saves someone?” He asked, looking shocked and turning towards Mouse. “You did not tell me that…”

Mouse looked away, begrudgingly taking a sip of their tea before realizing it was empty. “Uhm… Well… I was truthfully just giving you a synopsis of the tales, and not the full context stories of them…”

"He does, yeah. He stows away in her bag, and then opens the door for her.” Alise swirled her tea in her cup. “He just shows up in the one version, though.”

She paused for a minute, staring into her cup.

“But … Uh … So, what the ever loving fuck just happened to me? Like, we were going on a Christmas carriage ride in Central Park, and then I was trapped in a coffin. Is this …. Normal?”

“I see…” Tsunotaro hummed, nodding along before placing the cup down and shaking his head. He said nothing more.

Instead, Mouse spoke up again, offering Alise a small, comforting smile. “I… Well, I doubt it’s normal. Seeing as we’re the uh…” They cleared their throat, “Seeing as we’re two of the three students who are sorted into Ramshackle…”

Tsunotaro piped in “There is also the matter of you and Mouse both not getting your acceptance letters into the school.”

“Yeah, my acceptance letter seems to have come in the form of a spooky funerary carriage. I don’t know what Mouse’s looked like.”

"I uh… Don’t actually… Remember…” Mouse muttered, looking away from the two before looking back at Alise. “But I assume I was in the same situation as you.”

Alise narrowed her eyes at Mouse. She clearly didn’t believe them, but then continued her rant. “And despite the obvious kidnapping, I still had to argue about being thrown out just because I’m a girl.“ She stopped, and looked at Mouse, confused. "Why did Crowley make such a fuss about me, when you’re already here? What’s the difference between one girl or two?”

Mouse went silent, Tsunotaro also was quiet. The slow tapping of rain started on the windows, building suddenly. Lightning flashed outside the window, and thunder roared with it. Mouse jumped, looking at the window before reaching over and grabbing one of his hands and squeezing.

“Ah yes. There is also that situation, isn’t there,” Tsunotaro hissed out, a dangerous air around him and a glare aimed at no one specific in the room.

The tension in the room did not escape Alise’s notice. “So this situation … ?” she prompted.

“Oh yeah uhm…” Mouse started, rubbing their thumb over Tsunotaro’s hand, trying desperately to calm the storm in an indirect way. “You see it's… How do I explain it…”

They took a deep breath, biting at their lip as they tried to find a way to explain it. Tsunotaro took a deep breath at the same time as Mouse. Smoke blew out of his nose and the corners of his mouth.

“I'm… Not a girl, when I’m in the presence of… Other students you could say. It was an… Agreement, with Headmaster Crowley, that I made that uhm…” another deep breath, and another thunder strike, “That if any of the students find out, that I’m not also a boy… Then… Then both me and Grim get expelled…”

Alise’s expression darkened. Anger poured from her like fog roiling in from the ocean, cold and dark and enveloping everything around it in a heavy, blinding blanket. Unlike Tsunotaro, she didn’t literally smoke, but the mood in the room had taken a decidedly violent turn.

“That. Fucker.” Alise said slowly and quietly. Her tone had taken a sharp turn, like icicles on the edge of a building. “That bird faced, self-important, cowardly, absolute fuck stick.” Her tirade would probably have been a great deal more threatening, had she not been trying to maneuver herself off the stool at the same time, which involved an unfortunate amount of stretching toward the ground and twisting awkwardly around.

But when she finally managed to find the floor, she took off toward the door at a run with murder writ clear on her face.

“Alise!” Mouse called after her, sliding off their own stool to try and grab the smaller child. “Alise, wait! I know you’re mad but… But wait until Tsunotaro’s calmed down before you run out there!” They weren’t arguing against the bird murder. To be fair, they weren’t sure if there was even a person who liked Crowley, except for maybe Kalim or Vargas - but those two are a bit… On the trusting side. Truthfully, Mouse was more worried about Alise getting caught up in the storm outside being caused by Tsunotaro’s own - more hidden - ire.

“Look… You can shout and scream at him all you want after class tomorrow. How about we set you up in the shower, to help calm down for now?” They tried suggesting, trying to offer a smile.

Alise had stopped at the door to put her boots on.

“I’m not going to shout at him,” she hissed, shaking with fury as she fumbled with the laces. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to tear that stupid beak off his face and shove it down his throat until he chokes to death on his own vomit.” It was a chillingly specific threat.

Mouse followed them, deciding it better to stand in front of the door. Shivering as the cold wrapped around them through the small gaps in the door.

“And you can do that tomorrow. You just arrived, Alise, try and listen to me for just a moment - please?” They reasoned again. “You're… You’re not the only person who’s angry about it, trust me. But we…” They paused, thinking over their words for a few seconds before continuing. “But you and I are in an entirely new world from our own, where everyone else seems to have magic while we don’t. If you… If you rush in there, Alise, you’ll have a disadvantage.”

Alise shrieked in frustration, rivaling the building thunder in her anger. She flung the boot in her hand into the lounge, where it ricochetted off the side of the couch and landed in a defeated heap. Mouse flinched at the scream and then the boot being thrown. The force of the throw knocked Alise off her own feet, and she landed, equally crumpled, on the floor in front of Mouse.

“I will kill him,” she assured the (slightly) taller human. “I just can’t get that stupid boot on.”

Looking down at Alise before getting onto their knees and wrapping their arms around the (slightly) smaller human, “It’s okay… Just… Kill him tomorrow when you’re calmer…” Mouse reassured, still not against something happening to Crowley.

Tsunotaro watched from the kitchen, not sure how he could interject - and truthfully not wanting to. He would have even offered to help… If he knew Mouse wouldn’t have lectured him, which they absolutely would have.

“Just say the word,” Alise muttered, her voice muffled by the hug. “And I will feed him his own liver.”

Something seemed to filter through her rage, and she pulled back. “Your horny friend - is he smoking? Like, emitting smoke?”

Mouse nodded, pulling away in turn before glancing over at Tsunotaro, laughing nervously. “Oh uh, yeah… He does that sometimes. Being a dragon and all…” Mouse paused before adding, “One of the reasons why he’s not allowed to use magic inside Ramshackle, too worried he might burn it down…”

“I can hear you, you know.” Tsunotaro snapped, though his voice wasn’t too harsh - being aimed at Mouse. His annoyance was still palpable as he stood and walked over to the two girls on the floor. He decided to join them, not caring if he might now be blocking the way for either of them.

Alise peered at him. “I’ve never met a dragon,” she admitted, “but I imagined more … ” she waved one hand vaguely. “Scales.”

She was still breathing hard from adrenaline, and her voice was still pitched a little too high, but she was clearly trying, if awkwardly, to turn the mood around.

“Ah, I do have them.” He chuckled, that seeming to have lightened his mood - if the now softening sound of rain was anything to go by - as he lifted his hand and brushed his bangs back, giving Alise a peek at the scales on his forehead. “But it’s easier to be among you humans in a similar form. Though, I could also summon my tail for you if my appearance is still not to your liking.”

Mouse laughed, though it’s still a bit forced, shaking their head. “It’s rude to assume all dragons are built the same, you know.”

Alise flashed a grin. “That’s true. You just see a couple pictures in books, and start to make assumptions.” She nodded her head apologetically to Tsunotaro. “I shall make fewer ones about your dragonocity in the future. And don’t change yourself on my account.” She started to say something else, but bit it back.

Mouse and Tsunotaro both chuckled, Tsunotaro brushing his bangs back over his scales to cover them.

“Quite alright, second Child of Man. I appreciate the sentiment.” He spoke, offering a smile.

It was Mouse’s turn to speak, standing up as they did so. “Thank you, Alise. But I think we both should be getting to bed and Tsunotaro should be getting back to his dorm, I’m certain that those two are out looking for him now.”

Tsunotaro hummed, nodding and standing up in turn. Alise nodded and pulled her remaining boot off.

“Actually Tsunotaro, could I talk to you about something before you leave?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Of course.”

“Sweet, let me set up Alise first, and I’ll come back down.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s been kind of a long afternoon. Also, um, I don’t have any pajamas.” Alise shrugged apologetically.

“Oh that’s fine, I stole Ace’s a while back - you can steal his room and his pajamas!” Mouse half-joked before Tsunotaro cut in, completely serious.

“I can bring you one of Lilia’s pajamas that he no longer wears, so that you don’t have to worry about the clothes being too big on you.”

Mouse stoped, blinking up at Tsunotaro before shrugging. “Or we can steal Lilia’s - add to the collection I suppose.”

Alise shrugged. “I am generally swimming in any clothes I borrow. Unless I am borrowing clothes from a twelve year old. So, honestly, it probably makes very little difference.”

“Then I will fetch you some of his garments, I will be back momentarily.” He hummed, offering a smile before he just… POPS… Well not literally, but he was gone and instead there seemed to be a bunch of magical green fireflies roaming where he once was.

Mouse shook their head, smiling to themselves for a moment before ushering Alise towards the living area and then the stairs “Well, let’s get you settled while he gets you your new pajamas.”

“Today has had a high bar for weird, but that might actually be the weirdest thing today,” Alise let herself be steered upstairs, craning her neck around Mouse to watch the fireflies fade.

“Oh… No it’ll get weirder…” Mouse promised idly as they led her down the hall. They pointed out their own room when they passed it.

“That’s my room, Grim is currently sleeping in there. But he may sleep in your room as well when he realizes you live here, so just a warning…”

They kept walking however, like that’s just a normal thing. They stopped in front of a door further down the hall and opened it to reveal a fairly clean room, with just a little bit of clutter. The room is definitely more… Stylized… Having been claimed originally by this person that Mouse keppt referring to as “Ace.” The room was mainly red and card themed, but also… There were just a lot of random card packs on the night stand.

Alise hesitated in the doorway. The room was clearly used often. But she was reasonably sure Mouse wouldn’t offer her the room if this Ace would be mad about it.

“You mentioned a shower, too? I think I wouldn’t mind washing the coffin dust off.” She took off her jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.

“Oh of course!” Mouse nodded, turning to lead them back down the hall.

“It’s this way, or you can use the master bathroom in my room instead.” They offered, genuine in it as well.

“This is fine,” Alise shook her head gratefully for the offer.

“Alright, I’ll bring up the pajamas when Tsunotaro brings them over for you.” Mouse spoke, leading Alise to the currently cleanest (besides their own) bathroom, and then heading downstairs

Alise spent some time poking around the bathroom, reading the labels on bottles and smelling soaps, opening drawers and cupboards. Finally she stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor, and climbed into the shower. She just stood there, letting the water pour over her, slowly turning it up to as hot as she could stand.

It had been … a day. A long, confusing, absurd day, full, apparently, of magic and dragons and Disney villains. Nothing that had happened made any sense at all. It was like she had suddenly become a character in an anime. That was worrying.

Unless she got Magical Girl powers out of it, maybe. It would be kind of cool if she got a glitter-infused transformation scene out of it.

Mouse sighed as they walked down the stairs before falling into a heap on the ground at the bottom, hiding their face in their hands as they thought.

Alise… Alise seems like a sweet, energetic girl. And Mouse knew that none of this was her fault.

But Alise wasn’t why they were upset.

It was fucking Crowley.

God, if Alise and Tsunotaro hadn’t been present in the vicinity, Mouse knew full well that they wouldn’t have a voice tomorrow from the rage bubbling up inside. But at least Alise was able to be a girl, instead of hiding her identity. Not that Mouse was a girl to begin with, but what are labels when you have boobs I guess.

Sometimes Mouse wished that they could overblot as well.

They felt a hand land on their head, and looked up, finding Tsunotaro looking down at them and petting the top of their head, pajamas in his other arm. Mouse offered him a smile - one they both knew was fake - as he lowered himself onto his knees in front of them, keeping the clothes in his lap as he continued to pet Mouse.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked, eyes softening just slightly.

Mouse chuckled, looking over to the window looking into the social room. “What’s there to talk about? Crowley fucking everything up again and leaving me to pick up his mess like some servant? Or maybe how Alise might never make it back home like me?” They looked back at Tsunotaro, a sob ripping at their throat. “I barely make enough to support me and Grim comfortably - how in the world could I add another person to that?”

“I could hel-”

They shook their head, interrupting him mid thought. “You and Kalim and Azul, and honestly everyone else I know, help me enough as is, I couldn’t possibly ask for more…”

Tsunotaro watched Mouse, a frown pulling at his lips and smoke blowing out of his nose. A common argument between the two, but one that neither were willing to budge on.

Mouse looked down, wiping at their eyes before grabbing his hand on their head and playing with it.

“But… If I could ask another favor?”

His ears perked up at their words. “Yes, of course, anything you wish for.”

Mouse smiled nervously, letting go of his hand to sneak the clothes from his lap into theirs.

“Do you think Lilia could let Alise borrow one of his uniforms?”

Tsunotaro paused. Thinking before smiling down at them.

“Of course, I will bring them over tomorrow morning.”

Mouse’s smile turned genuine, leaning forward and hugging him.

“Thank you, Tsunotaro.”

He froze, before quickly relaxing and hugging them back.

“Of course, Child of Man.”

And with that, he was gone. Fireflies taking his place and flying around Mouse. They sighed, sitting on the ground for a couple moments before standing up and walking up the stairs to knock on the bathroom door.

“Alise!?” Mouse called out, pressing against the door lightly. “I have the clothes, is it okay to come in and leave them there for you?”

“Sure,” Alise shouted through the door.

Mouse opened the door, placing the clothes on the sink counter. “Your clothes are right here, I’m gonna go ahead and go to bed - but if you need anything just come get me or ask the ghosts.” Mouse said the last part like it was perfectly normal before leaving the bathroom and heading to their own bedroom.

Mouse sighed once they were in their bedroom, looking down at a very conked out Grim. Reaching down to rub at his head before slipping into the bed and laying her head down.

Tomorrow…

They had a bad feeling about tomorrow

Alise paused while washing her hair, head and hands full of soap.

Ghosts? That … There weren’t really ghosts … Were there?

That seemed like a problem for future Alise, though. Present Alise still had a head full of shampoo.

The provided pajamas were a bit too big, which was generally fine. Whoever had provided them was probably six inches taller than her, at least - who wasn’t? - and she had to keep pulling the legs up or they flopped around like silly plaid duck feet. She walked around in a small circle in the bathroom when the thought occurred to her, quacking quietly to herself and giggling.

After a minute she sighed and, gathering her clothes in her arms, opened the bathroom door. The house was quiet, the warmth and light of the bathroom spilled from behind her, sucked into the dark length of the hallway. Here, now, in the dark hours of the morning, the wind moaning distantly outside, Alise could believe the house was haunted. She carefully, slowly, took a step forward. Then another. And then ran as fast as she could to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it panting. The room was cozy and lived in, and felt markedly less haunted than the hallway had. Still, she launched herself at the bed, pulling the blankets up over her head.

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