#that there were just TWO people who understood him and hopefully remember him... who Helped him

[sensesdialed]

can i talk about how much being around other spider people would mean to peter after he's been so incredibly lonely post-nwh. can i talk about it

[blegh-110]

iii. "im not a princess, this aint a fairytale"

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: Older brother’s best friend!Sam Monroe who was the first to break your heart when you were 14 and he was 16.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.5k

Next Part

You were ecstatic when you entered high school, there were more opportunities for you to see Sam instead of only seeing him when he came over. The night before your first day you imagined all the ways you could possibly see him; in the hallways, having lunch together, maybe and hopefully just one class together. 

And your first semester didn’t disappoint. The first few weeks were equally nerve-wracking and exciting. As you were entering a brand new, bigger school, you didn’t know where your classes were. And you got lost often, getting swept away by the larger crows in the narrow halls into some part of the school you had never been in. But Sam was somehow always there to save you by grabbing your heavy textbooks in one hand, your hand in the other and quickly leading you to your class. 

“I know it’s hard, but you have to push your way through these assholes. Especially the ones who stand right in the middle of the fucking hall.” And he gestured to the group who were indeed standing in the middle of the hall and walked right through them, taking you with him. You apologized to the girl you shouldered.

“Sam, we could’ve just gone around them!”

“Yeah, we could’ve. But what do they expect standing there?:

“I don’t think it’s that serious.” 

“Yes it is, now's the time to learn how to put your foot down or they’ll walk all over you.”

Or when he helped you learn how to open your locker because you just couldn’t get it, “It’s clockwise, then counterclockwise but skip the second number, then go directly to the last number clockwise.”

Maybe the lockers were just old, but you remember the time when he was sure he got the combination right but it just wouldn’t open. And he kept trying, whispering “fuck you, fuck you.”

“Sam, my class is about to start, hurry!” You were only half serious, the other part of you couldn’t help but find his frustration and growing panic funny. You covered your laugh with your hand as he looked at you with wide eyes, “it’s not fucking opening.”

You burst out laughing when he finally got it open because it took him aggressively pulling at the lock and a fall to the ground.

And you loved walking to your third hour because the two of you would cross paths, and not a day would go by where he wouldn’t say hi with a small wave, and a gentle ruffle to your hair if he was close enough. You felt special because out of all the people and his own friends he’d see, you were the one he’d acknowledge. 

But your favorite times together was when he would walk you home and carry your extremely heavy backpack for you. It was the best way to end the school day, the two of you recapping your days. How hard a test was, what you had for lunch, how annoying a particular teacher was, and any other anecdotes. You thought whatever the two of you were would only grow.

-

You weren’t exactly when it began happening, all you knew was that the boy you once got all starry eyed about was turning into the ones you didn’t like.  

Maybe it was when he got into the wrong crowd, the ones who always stunk of smoke and ditched school. You found it strange when you saw him being friendly with a few of them since he was always the one who turned you away from them, “Promise me you won’t end up like one of those morons, (y/n). That stuff is too fucking vile for you.” 

Or when he slowly stopped walking you home to go hang out with them. It made you sad but you understood that he couldn’t dedicate all of his time after school to you. He had his own friends and hobbies. But were you right to be concerned when you noticed he started cutting classes and skipping school to be with said friends? You caught him one time, trying to sneak away and he seemed surprised to see you had seen him. 

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Hi, Sam. Where are you going?” You asked softly, not wanting to anger him. He just seemed so angry and jumpy these days. 

“We’re just… gonna get an early lunch,” He could tell you didn’t really believe him when all you gave was a small, tight lipped smile and single head nod, he came closer and dipped his head down as he whispered “I’ll be back, I promise. And I’ll get you something if you keep quiet, okay?”

You felt like you didn’t have a choice, you obviously weren’t going to say no and force him to stay. And the bribe just didn’t seem right, it gave you a strange feeling in your gut. 

“No, that’s okay. I, um, I really have to get to class.” And you left with a small smile and quick turn, wanting the entire interaction to be over. It was weird to see him this way, and it left a weight on your shoulders to just let him go. Should you have at least tried to stop him? You looked out the window and were even more upset to see your brother with that group as well. Maybe it was seeing both of them this way, but you had the sudden urge to cry. 

Sam did end up getting you a large Dr. Pepper, but you just couldn’t will yourself to drink it and you threw it away.  

With each passing day he was getting further and further away from you, but you continued to push through it, hoping that the boy who taught you how to ride a bike and saved your winter dance night was still in there. He had to be. 

So you kept trying to talk to him. Which included helping him cut classes, reminding him of tests, telling him about your day. And maybe you were doing too much, and maybe you were embarrassing him in front of his cool friends. And maybe you should’ve expected such a response. 

“Jesus, you are so fucking annoying. Don’t you have any of your own friends?”

That one hurt the most. It wasn’t just the fact that he knew you weren’t the most sociable girl. In fact, it was hard for you to talk to others and to keep a conversation going. So the answer was no. 

It was also the angry look he gave you. The furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and the eye roll he gave when you didn’t answer. You’d never seen him this way. It was always playful smiles and soft words. The closest you had seen him this angry was when you didn’t bother to look both ways before crossing the street and you almost got run over, “you could’ve gotten killed, I shouldn’t have to tell you to look both ways when crossing a street.”

But that was tough love if anything, and he hugged you right after to calm you down because you were pretty shaken up and close to tears, “alright, that’s enough, you’re fine.”

You stood there in front of him, eyes wide and chest rising and falling rapidly, willing yourself to stay collected and calm while it felt like your whole world was crumbling in front of you. 

“Just… stay the hell away from me.” And he left. 

The rest of the day was a blur since Sam’s words left you dejected and shattered. You weren’t focused in your classes and didn’t pay any mind to what the people around you said. It was a constant replay of what he said to you and a constant fight to keep your emotions in. Who were you supposed to turn to for this?

You cried the entire night. You thought you were only being helpful, and to know that he actually saw you as a burden made you panic. For every little problem you had, you did end up going to him for help. For every stupid, little story you had, you ended up telling him. And when you felt lonely, you ended up going to him. But you couldn’t help it. Sam always seemed so happy to fix whatever issue it was you were having, and he looked like he was deeply interested in your trivial tales, and he was just so fun to be around. He was funny and kind and gentle and where is he now?

Or did he always feel that way and put up a good front? No, it couldn’t be that, it was too genuine. Did you happen to read too much into his actions? Possibly. Then you thought if the roles were reversed, kind of. If there was a younger girl in your life you certainly wouldn’t treat her meanly. You would always have a helping hand extended out just in case she needed it. Like a big sister. 

These thoughts and questions swirled in your mind until you came to the conclusion that you were just a young girl very in love with the older boy who only saw you as his best friend's young sister. And that he was done entertaining her and moving with his own crowd.

It was this that finally opened your eyes and made you go to sleep. It was your turn now to grow up and move on.  

divider by @dollywons

[mourninglamby]

I remember that the first dsmp art of yours that I ever saw was an alliumduo comic of ranboo realizing that he trapped tommy in the prison... it was so haunting and was the first fancontent of the lore that made me go THIS IS AWESOME!! you definitely were one of the artists that made the dsmp feel like there was so much more to it and made me so much more invested 💕💕💕

I remembered this after seeing your new allium duo fanart, and i guess I wanted to ask what your thoughts on alliumduo nowadays are, compared to back when you made that comic, if u want to share. Lots of love! 💖

THANK YOUUU I still rly like that comic tbh .. as for my current day thoughts on c!alliumduo, I think they had so much potential as two teenagers traumatized by the same man but in different ways. C!tommy feeling protective of c!Ranboo when c!wilbur started to sink his hooks in vs. c!Ranboo yelling at c!sam for leaving him in the prison with c!dream…… idk I have a lot of love in my heart for their unspoken solidarity. I also think ranboo The Guy (despite all the many many many many issues with his characters’ story and overall execution) is so aware of the horrors c!tommy went thru (the whole “I think Tommy is just Scared” thing). So this manifests in his character as sympathy for c!Tommy’s helplessness ….. c!Ranboo and c!tommy being so fearful but in starkly contrasting ways (prone to isolation vs prone to angry outbursts) and all the shit with c!clingy vs. c!bee…….. still coming out of it with strong mutual affection and assurance … idk. It feels hopeful in the realistic, messy way. The way that says “someone somewhere will understand you, in spite of the hurdles it takes to let them in.”

Also… C!ranboo helping c!dream in enderwalk to keep c!Tommy in the cell resulting in a canon death, vs c!tommy unknowingly helping c!wilbur essentially orchestrate a canon death for c!ranboo in ho16. They both have been used as tools in the machinations of their respective deaths. C!tommy doesn’t know about enderwalk. C!ranboo doesn’t know the intricacies of c!wilbur and c!dreams deep hooks in c!tommy. I mourn the fact that this was never addressed because i know in my soul that they would have understood each other in a more overt way had they talked about it. C!tommy’s strong loyalty and compassion and c!ranboos nurturing nature outweigh their grief.

I think it would have been beautiful to see victims who hurt each other in the thick of their abuse find solidarity in forgiveness. Not forgiveness for what happened to them, but for each other’s role as a puppet to the real perpetrators of their trauma. It would have helped get the story back on the trajectory of murdering c!dream and casting out c!wilbur, because if they had discussed things with each other and worked through their complex feelings, I KNOW they could have found the words to describe what they went through, and then hopefully take initiative to rally up enough support to take c!d and c!wil down. Sigh…… oh well. Maybe one day I’ll work on another comic about them. I still think it’s a story worth telling.

(Note: I used to see a lot of people use the phrase “trauma bond” to describe c!allium or c!clingy … while I understand what you want it to mean, this is an incorrect way to use this term. A trauma bond is formed between the abused and the abuser. Please read more about it here if you are confused! I really don’t want to see this term misused anymore. It’s very uncomfortable >_<)

[honeybeebard]

Helping You Remember (Enver Gortash x DarkUrge!Tav)

Summary// Ever since the crash Tav had been stripped of her memories, with nothing but her name and this violent urge inside her body wreaking havoc with every step she took. It was no small feat to control it, or at least tame it, and just when she thought she had gotten it under control a new foe, or an old ally, comes to remind her where she came from.

(I didn’t expect my first fic in the BG3 fandom to be about Gortash. In fact, I have several half-written projects of other characters but for whatever reason this man has recently taken a hold of me and I’m afraid I’ve sunk too deep. This was originally going to be a one-shot but it’s taken on a life of its own and will now be a multi-chapter!

This first chapter is heavy on angst but the next chapter will be better, I promise! I just imagine this is how your companions would react to the news as well as how Gortash gets his foot in the door of reclaiming you. I hope you like it! I normally write for ACOTAR so this was so much fun!) WARNINGS: Heavy angst, Mentions of past Dark Urge actions

It had been a long, painful journey to get to Baldur’s Gate but Tav had made it. Her companions had made it. Everyone was alive and mostly well, save for the tadpole in their brains, the end of the world, and the recent discovery of Tav’s family history. As they made their way to Wrym’s Rock Fortress it was the only thing her mind could focus on. Astarion, Karlach, and Wyll were all too happy to chat about being back but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she was. 

Bhaalspawn.

Parents throughout Baldur’s Gate told stories of her kind to warn their children of the dangers of the world. She felt all the sins of her kin crawling up her back, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze in fear that they would see her for who she was. A monster. It didn’t matter how hard she fought the Urge inside her… her fate seemed to be already written in the stars. How could she save herself from this? She hadn’t even realized they had made it to the doors of the fortress until Astarion gently nudged her arm, giving her a concerned look as she was torn from her thoughts. “Are you alright, darling? You’re looking a bit clammy.” His voice was smooth but she could see the worry in his eyes. He was the first one she had told when she found out, seeking comfort in his arms just as he had done back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. They didn’t have an official title to whatever their relationship was, sometimes friends and other times lovers, but they were each other’s closest confidants. He understood her better than herself sometimes and he had assured her that whatever she was facing, he would be there to help. So it pained her to lie through her teeth as she mumbled, “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. Hopefully, we can kill two birds with one stone.” Astarion knew she was lying but didn’t press her further, his shoulders tensing slightly as he gave a curt nod and entered the building with the others. The air was buzzing with excitement as everyone awaited the coronation of Lord Gortash. His posters were everywhere, most people hailing him as a hero, but from what she had heard from Karlach he was anything but that. And especially after discovering him at Moonrise, netherstone in the gauntlet decorating his hand, she only felt that anger within her rise more at the ignorance of the city. There was something else too, like a flash of nostalgia, but it flitted from her mind before she could grasp it. Tav shook her head as they made their way up the stairs, preparing for anything as they arrived at the grand hall.

Rows of seats lined the sides as a dark red carpet decorated the ground, leading all the way up to where Duke Ravengard and Gortash stood. Wyll visibly bristled at the sight of his father, his hand steady on the edge of his blade while Karlach slowly began to grow hotter and hotter at the sight of her former friend. 

“I can practically taste his blood from here.” Karlach seethed, her fists clenching. Astarion gave Tav a worrying look, wondering if now, underneath the watchful gaze of multiple Flaming Fists and the Steel Watch, was the right time to pick a fight.

Tav gave him a reassuring smile, turning to Karlach with a solemn expression. “I know you want nothing more than to rip his heart out but here might not be the best place to do it. Let’s hear him out first.” She speaks slowly, hoping to calm the tiefling. 

“Hear him out? He speaks nothing but lies! There is nothing he could say that could be of use to us.” Karlach snarls, turning her heated eyes to her and frowning. 

“Just trust me on this, okay?” Tav pleaded. “I promise that you will be the first one to rip him limb from limb.”

She seemed to calm slightly at Tav’s reassurance, her flames dulling as she nodded once. “I’ll hold you to that, soldier.” Karlach says, following in step as the four of them begin to walk up the aisle.

Gortash is the first to spot them, his lips turning up in a smile as he spies Karlach first. “My eyes must be deceiving me! Karlach, my dear girl, come and be welcome.” His voice was dripping with arrogance, his arms spread wide in greeting. 

“I’m not your dear anything!” Karlach snaps, her hand immediately falling to her weapon. However, just as Tav tries to step in front of them, his dark eyes turn to her and widen in surprise.

“And with you, my, why it’s my favorite bhaalspawn!” He grins as he comes closer to Tav, eyeing her up and down. “I never thought I would see you again either.”

“Wait, you know each other?” Karlach frowns, turning to look at Tav with betrayal in her eyes. 

“I swear I have no memory of him Karlach. I would’ve told you.” She stresses, holding up her hands in innocence while shaking her head rapidly. 

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Gortash says smugly, chuckling to himself. “Your memories are quite lost aren’t they? Orin told me she’d made a fool of you. And to think you two have traveled together all this time and she hadn’t the faintest idea that you were one of my nearest and dearest.”

This time it was Astarion who spoke, his eyes hard as his jaw clenched. “What do you mean nearest and dearest?” There was a sense of urgency under his tone, something that Tav felt as well as she tried desperately to remember what Gortash already knew.

The dark-haired Lord smirked, taking a deep breath as he turned back to Tav and began to tell fill in the missing puzzle pieces of her memory. “You and I initiated this plot. No one could stand against the Dead Three so, after obtaining the crown, enslaving the brain, and creating a false God to rule the masses, there was little to stand in our way.”

Tav stumbled back a step, her head throbbing and pulse racing. No, she couldn’t have. She couldn’t have formed this plot, couldn’t have worked with Gortash. It wasn’t who she was. Was it? 

“No. I would never.” She whispered, her eyes full of anger while Gortash ignored her and carried on weaving the tale. 

“In Bhaal’s name, you set your bloody dagger to cause panic in the streets, killing in the Absolute’s name,” He smiled again as if recalling a fond memory. It made her want to vomit. “It was all going well until you had vanished, Orin claiming to be the new voice of Bhaal and taking over. She, unlike you, couldn’t control herself. She made a mess of things.”

Her stomach lurched, her knees buckling as bits and pieces of her past flashed through her mind. The blood, the screams, the wicked smile of her reflection as she all but bathed in the slain bodies of the innocent. Astarion noticed her trembling, reaching out to steady her as she tried to block out everything. 

“Have you gone soft?” Gortash asked as he stepped closer to Tav, examining her guilt filled gaze with a disappointed look. “I find that hard to believe. One’s true nature will always rise to the top.”

“That is not my true nature.” She hissed through gritted teeth, rage heating her blood as she pushed out of Astarion’s grasp and walked towards the man before her. “Take it back. Tell me you’re lying.”

“I know you know the truth, Tav.” He coos as if talking to a startled babe. “I can see it in your eyes. That Urge deep within you, clawing at its cage to be unleashed. We had something great, are something great, until you were taken. I tolerated Orin, tolerated Ketheric, but I liked you. We can still finish this together.”

As he finishes his sentence one of his hands comes up to rest on her arm, an intimate gesture that sends feelings of disgust and warmth through her body. She hated this, hated him, hated how little control she felt. Once again she felt a battle in her body between the past and the present. 

“Don’t touch me.” Tav growls, pulling away from him as if she had been burned. “I want nothing to do with you, with this plot. If anything this has only solidified my plans to kill you.”

She could feel Karlach’s approval from behind her, could feel her own body tensing for a fight only to falter when Gortash barked out a harsh laugh. 

“Oh, my dear bhaalspawn, you have no choice.” His eyes were suddenly hard and his tone like ice as he gestured around him. “The quakes are a clear warning. Without all three netherstones ruling the brain, it will break free and complete the Grand Design. Your choices are to join me and rule or subject this entire city, yourself and companions included, to becoming illithids.”

All of her companions shifted uneasily, looking at Tav for guidance. She tried to run through all the scenarios, looking for an out that didn’t include digging herself further into her past self, but the choices remained the same. 

“Together though,” Gortash straightens, giving her a charming smile. “Together we can control the brain. Renew our old partnership.”

“What kind of partnership?” Tav asked cautiously, hating how weak she sounded. Astarion cleared his throat beside her, pleading with her not to do this, but she ignored him. If she was going to find another way out of this she at least needed to get all angles of the problem…and that started with hearing Gortash’s bargain. 

“Let’s discuss it somewhere more private, hm? Away from the prying eyes of both nobles and…your group.” He looked behind her distastefully. “Meet me in my office after the ceremony. Alone.”

And before she can say another word he struts back to the middle of the room, letting the Duke continue with the blasphemous ceremony. Tav immediately motions for her friends to follow her towards the back, ignoring the words of Wyll’s father as she finally takes a moment to breathe.

“You can’t possibly be considering partnering with him.” Astarion huffs. “Please tell me you aren’t that stupid.”

“Look at what he’s done to this city, to my father,” Wyll adds, crossing his arms. “An alliance with Gortash is like asking to be stabbed in the back. He cannot be trusted.” “You’re damn right he can’t be trusted!” Karlach fumes, gnashing her teeth together. “That man is worse than a devil, Tav! He’s just trying to get in your head!”

“Enough!” Tav snapped, rubbing her temples as the pounding returned. Everyone’s opinions, including Gortash’s, were starting to make her head spin. “I know this is…a lot. I can’t process it all myself-”

“What, that you and Gortash created this entire cult, this entire problem that is threatening the lives of millions of people?” Karlach’s voice was rising with each word, her flames growing by the second. “I knew you were a bhaalspawn but Bhaal’s chosen? You are half the bloody reason we are here in the first place!”

“Karlach-” Wyll tries to intervene but she brushes him off, stalking towards Tav and jamming a red hot finger in her chest.

“No, don’t Karlach me.” She snarls, glaring down at her. “Did you not hear what she has done? The acts she committed in Bhaal’s name? Amnesia or not, you all have to see how dangerous she is.”

“I’m not!” Tav protested, tears pricking her eyes as she felt their gazes on her. It was her worst fear realized. “I’m not a monster, I don’t remember doing any of those things. I would never…”

“And yet here you are, ready to make nice with the viper.” Karlach spits, standing to her full height while regarding her with revulsion. “I need time to think.” 

Before Tav can say anything or reach out to plead for forgiveness, she storms off back to the entrance. Wyll looks between the two of them, his eyes full of sadness before he simply shakes his head and follows Karlach. The only one left is Astarion who is staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“Star…” She whispers, throat tight as she tries to reach for him only to physically recoil when he moves away from her hand. It wasn’t much, just a slight sway to the side, but it was enough to make the knife in her gut twist deeper. “Please.”

“I…I need a moment.” He murmurs, bowing his head before following the same path as her companions. Tav can’t stop herself from sinking to the floor, her soul aching as she brings her knees to her chest and cries. She doesn’t care that she’s in a room full of nobles, doesn’t care that everyone is watching her finally break, she just doesn’t care anymore.

Her friends, her entire world ever since escaping that damned nautiloid, had abandoned her. They had found out who she had been and had left her here, alone. Tav wanted to hate them, wanted to curse them, and never see them again, but could she blame them?

She was part of the reason this was all happening in the first place. She had caused all this pain, all this death, in the name of her father. Even if she didn’t remember it that didn’t absolve her of the guilt. If roles were reversed, she would probably question her relationship with the person as well.

“It’s all my fault.” She whispers, pressing her palms against her eyes harshly. The tears were hot as they ran down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking. Tav was so caught up in her emotions she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her.

It wasn’t until she felt cold, metal claws tip her chin up that she finally came to her senses, blinking up at the man who had just revealed all her immoral acts as if they were nothing. 

“My poor little bhaalspawn,” He purred, using his other hand to pull her up to stand. “All alone again.”

Tav sniffled, feeling vulnerable as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. Her entire body felt numb as he pulled her into his arms, shushing her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Come.” He ordered. “Let me save you once more.” 

[melancholyshadow]

Hello! I couldn’t help but see your post about writing for COD men! If so, could you please do one that’s Price x reader where she takes a bullet for him? Angst and Fluff. Typical scenario I know, but there’s never enough Price. If that doesn’t work that’s okay too! Thank you!!

Desk Duty

pairing: john price x female!reader

word count: around 2.1k

content warnings: canon-level violence, injured!reader, mentions of someone getting shot, mentions of gun-shot wound, medical talk, kissing an authority figure.

an: hello! first off, thank you anon for this lovely request, hopefully you enjoy it, i am a bit rusty bc i have not written in forever. second off, to address the elephant in the room, i know this isn't marvel related, but i'm really into call of duty right now, and wanted to write for them instead. third of all, if you liked this piece, and want to request your own, my request are open! i am really only writing for cod men right now and maybe some select marvel people. thanks guys!!!!

You never understood the saying “It happened in slow motion.” 

This was real life, nothing happened in slow motion, that was physically impossible. 

Or so you thought. 

All five of you were pinned down, trapped in a warehouse, taking massive amounts of fire. The enemy was closing in fast, and you were vastly outnumbered. It was the five of you, and a couple Marines, that’s it. This was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill mission, no one expected it to go sideways. Especially not this bad. 

“Low on ammo, Captain!” Gaz yelled, tossing an empty magazine behind him. “Conserve. Wait till they get closer!” Price barked back. “Where is air support, sir?” You asked, as the both of you crouched down to reload. “Five minutes out, we just need to make it till then.” He explained, popping back up and firing towards the building across the way. Five minutes was a long time in combat, almost too long. 

When you had this much adrenaline pumping through your body, it was natural to get tunnel vision. Only able to focus on the thing standing right in front of you, and at the moment that was about twenty enemy soldiers. Except, they weren’t all in front of you. They were obviously more well-versed in the area than you guys were, so they knew about a door to the warehouse you didn’t.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw the sudden flood of light come from the door being ripped open. That’s when everything slowed way down. Three of them rushed inside, you were able to drop the first two, but the third one was too quick. And when his eyes landed on Price who was still facing towards the opposing building, you panicked. So, you did the first thing you could think of. 

Grabbing your Captain’s ‘oh shit’ strap on the back of his plate carrier, you pulled him to the ground and out of the line of fire. As you kneeled beside Price, the enemy’s gun repositioned on you and before you had time to raise your own weapon again, he fired. The bullet connected, causing you to fall back against the cold concrete. Just as quickly as you fell, you watched the enemy’s body fall to the same concrete. Price let two bullets rip, one into his leg and the other into his skull. You stared up at the ceiling, clutching your wound, trying to apply pressure. 

“Monarch is down!”

You woke up in the hospital two days later. 

Apparently you passed out from blood loss. 

It had been a tricky wound to treat in the field, so you had to wait for the air support to show up. 

It was difficult for you to remember everything leading up to you being injured. You don’t remember the actual impact or being carried to the helo. It was all hazy. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost had gone over the incident with you many times, but it just never really came back to you. Not that you were complaining. No one wants to remember getting shot.

After a week and a half in the hospital, a month of physical therapy, and another month of training and sparring with your teammates to get you back in shape, you were finally cleared for the field. It was a miracle that you were able to bounce back this fast, it usually took many months to recover fully from an injury like that, but you liked to think it was solely because of how stubborn you were. 

Everyone was super happy to have you back. Well, almost. There was only one more step you had to do: submit your medical release form to Price and have him approve it. You had only seen the Captain a few times, in passing, since the incident. It felt like he was avoiding you entirely, but you chalked it up to all the paperwork he was probably buried under right now, especially when a mission went that far south. 

You walked down the familiar hallway, Price's office was at the very end. Nervousness flooded your body with every step you took. What could you possibly be nervous about? Was it because you were afraid to face him for the first time in over two months? Of course not, he was the same Price he was during that mission. Were you nervous he wasn’t going to approve you for medical release? No, he had to approve it, hell, you saved his damn life. 

As you approached the door, you took a deep breath. You noticed a shake in your hand as you brought it up to knock on the door. Three loud racks echoed down the hallway. “Come in.” He called from the otherside of the door. You gripped the doorknob, turning it and pushed the door open with your shoulder. Price, as you suspected, was looking over a mountain of paperwork. His signature cap was discarded, and he was dressed in civilian clothes. He was in on his day off. 

“Hello.” You greeted him, closing the door behind you. “Sergeant.” A man of few words, as always, but his tone seemed different. “I hate to do this, but I have some more paperwork for you.” You said with an awkward chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s my medical release form.” You added.

“Set it there.” He pointed to the only clear space on his desk. His words sounded cold. After placing down the documents, you stood there for a few more seconds, seeing if he would say anything else. You know, ask how you were doing, or something, literally anything. But to no avail. 

So, you turned on your heels to walk out without another word. As you touched the doorknob, Price cleared his throat to speak, spiking some hope into your heart. “I’m putting you on desk duty.” Almost instantly, your stomach dropped past your toes. He said it so monotoned, no ounce of emotion in his voice.

For a few moments you were stunned, left speechless. But once that initial shock wore off, anger began to bubble up in your chest. You could feel the warmth overtaking every inch of your body and your chest began rising and falling irregularly.

“W-What? But I’ve been cleared for the field.” You tried to keep your tone even, unwavering as you slowly turned around to face him. He had finally looked up, head propped up on his palm. Like his tone, there was no legible emotion on his face. No anger, sadness, or guilt. “Desk duty until further notice.” This time it sounded dismissive, like the conversation was over. What is said is done. Clicking his pen twice, his eyes landed back on the report in front of him. 

“This is bullshit!” The words climbed up your throat before you could stop them. You could feel your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. Your words caught the Captain off guard, but he only showed it for a moment. Not once had you ever questioned Price, or his intentions. But this time was different, if he thought you were gonna take this lying down,  he was dead wrong. 

“I’d watch your tone, Sergeant.” He spoke at you more sternly than before, clearly agitated by your outburst. And what he said next only added insult to injury, literally, “After that stunt you pulled, you’re lucky I don’t reassign you.” He used his pen to point at you, reaffirming his statement. That’s when all the logic and camaraderie flew out the window.

“You mean the one where I saved your life?” You spoke with malice, like venom was dripping off your tongue. “God forbid, I interfere with you taking a bullet to the skull.” You scoffed. “Is that the stunt you’re referring to?” You mocked him, echoing the term ‘stunt,.' You were trying to get under his skin, whether you knew that at the moment or not.

The Captain was boiling, you could practically see the steam coming from his ears. As you open your mouth to further instigate the situation, he slams his fists down on his desk. He stands up quickly, his chair tumbled to the ground behind him. “Exactly that stunt!” He barks. You’re the one caught off guard this time. It was rare for the Captain to raise his voice outside the field. Especially to you. 

“You could have got yourself killed, soldier!” It only takes him a few steps to be in your face. You hold your ground even though you're terrified, you had never seen Price like this. “It’s in the job description, sir.” You rebutted between your teeth, adding the ‘sir’ to irk him more. It worked. “You were careless and clearly have no regard for your own life. You are a risk.” He spat. 

“I’d die for you, Captain. No if, ands, or buts, about it.” You said with a straight face. “ So, if that categorizes me as a ‘risk,’ so be it.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it, and you noticed. “Say it, Captain. You never have been one to hold his words back.” You pushed him, feeding on his anger. 

But all that anger seemed to be disintegrating. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. Like your words flipped a switch inside him. He had this look on his face, like he was truly debating on his next words. “Say. It.” You demanded, necking craning upwards to look him in the eyes. His eyes fell closed, and a defeated huff passed his lips. 

“Having your blood on my hands is something I can’t handle…” His voice was hushed, and now his eyes refused to meet yours. That was the last thing you expected him to say. He has always kind of coddled you, he was very protective. You always thought maybe it was because you were the newest member of the Task Force, but now you’re thinking it’s for another reason. 

“W-What do you mean?” You asked, your mind went blank. All that anger was now mixed with a good dose of confusion. He didn’t speak, just ran his fingers through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. “Captain, look at me.” You uttered softly, and he didn’t listen. You’re not sure what overtook you in the moment, but your shaky hand reached towards his face.

“Please.” You begged, gripping his chin and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t pull away, you brought his face closer, your noses only inches apart. His eyes did finally flutter open, and you were greeted with a stoic, immersive shade of blue, you couldn’t look away. 

“Captain, I–” He didn’t let you finish your thought, cutting you off by leaning in closer, pressing his lips against yours. They were soft, softer than you ever imagined. Especially compared to the coarse hair of his mustache and beard against your face. You even picked up on the taste of smoke, he had smoked one of his cigars recently. 

All you could focus on at that moment was him. The way he placed your hands against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. It was racing, ramming against the inside of his chest.

How his rough, calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, further melding your lips together. The way he handled you said a lot. He kissed you like he was in distress, barely giving you time to breathe between the last and next kiss, not that you were doing much breathing anyways. He made your body feel like jelly, your knees barely able to carry your body weight, so you gripped his t-shirt, tight, trying to steady yourself. 

When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours. There was no talking, just heavy pants coming from the both of you. Did that really just happen? Was this a joke? You wanted to pinch yourself, wake yourself up from this dream. That’s when he spoke, breaking the silence, “‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He apologized, trying to create more distance between the two of you. 

Luckily, you still had a hold of his shirt, stopping him. “Respectfully, Captain, shut up.” You chuckled, which earned a small smile from him as well. “Is this why you avoided me for two and a half months?” You asked, snaking your arms around his neck. “If you think I’ve only had these feelings for you for two and a half months, you're more delusional than I thought, Sergeant.” He chuckled this time, placing his hands on your hips.

“So, the real question is, am I still on desk duty?”

[imaginethezeldaverse]

🥺🥺🥺 Of course, Anon. Oh gosh, the big lug would be so worried about you too. Okay, okay, I got you. Daruk taking care of sick reader (and getting some help from his friends along the way!):

A large hand descended gently on your forehead. He always ran warm, but the way you shivered and shook under those pelts he thought was normally reserved for cold weather responses - and yet here you were, burning up even on his skin. Daruk's long, white eyebrows turned up in concern. His biology being so different from yours, he didn't understand what exactly what was wrong at first. Thankfully some travelling Hylians managed to clarify once Daruk explained to them how you were feeling. You were dealing with a really bad cold - which would make sense to you having just come from the Hebra mountainside two days ago and running out of spicy elixirs about halfway through your trip. The temperature swap from bone-chilling cold to sweltering heat within that timeframe had caused you to get pretty sick. So much so that you were reduced to a weak mess, groaning from the febrile chills and body aches that plagued you. A message had been sent out to Princess Mipha, directly from Daruk, asking for a healing potion that would hopefully fix you right up; having seen her heal people constantly, Daruk figured she was the best person to ask. Upon feeling his hand on your forehead, you stirred at the contact, a pained wince escaping you. Daruk didn't mean to wake you, but seeing as you were now, he carefully rummaged through your pack. Pouring some water into a small bowl, he kneeled next to you, "Up you go, sweetheart," as his hand came behind your head to prop you up. Your whole body felt akin to lead and ice, but you did your best to lift your head regardless. Daruk touched the bowl to your lips, gently leaning it back as you drank. When you'd had enough, you settled back under the pelts, shivers wracking your entire body in horrid waves. The Goron champion made his way to your kitchen, pulling a rag from your pack on the way; he doused it with water, remembering the words of those Hylian travelers who explicitly mentioned that cool cloths would help bring your temperature down. Before long you felt the touch of a cool, damp cloth lay across your forehead. An involuntary whine escaped you, "Shhh, I know, I know, I'm sorry," Daruk cooed, gingerly dragging his thumb down to carefully caress your warmed cheek. The soft strokes on your skin were comforting, and even though you couldn't see him because your eyes refused to open, you knew his touch meant 'I'm here'. The stoney stalwart was admittedly terrified to see you in a such a state. Gorons weren't prone to getting sick like this, and with his knowledge being next to nothing on Hylian illness, he felt almost helpless. Knowing what he does now, he was determined to stay by your side until you were completely better. He'd learned to make some porridges as an easy meal to help you build your strength back up. At one point he'd heard your weakened voice call for him, "Daruk..." you croaked through your shivering, eyes barely half open. His worried expression carried over in his voice, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Try as you might, you couldn't find the words to ask him what it was you wanted, so instead you used the very little strength you had to push yourself into his arms - which in actuality ended up with you barely being able to drape your arms over his crossed legs. However, Daruk had caught onto what you wanted, picking you up as gently as he could, and holding your tired frame close in his arms. You snuggled into his chest, relishing the heat his body gave off. He pressed his lips to your temple, frowning at how warm your body still was - but he understood that what you wanted was comfort. Daruk held you that way for a while, rubbing your back as you shook in his hold and kissing away any of your pained whines and moans. When he finally got you back to your bed so you could rest some more, he'd heard a gentle knock at the door. The airy woosh of wings sounded outside of your bedroom before Daruk had finally made his way to answer the commotion. A blue scarf, much like his own, had caught Daruk’s eye. "I assume this little bottle isn't for you, is it?" came the smooth voice of Revali, his Rito champion companion. "’Fraid not," answered Daruk, who quickly looked back at your bedroom door, just as you groaned from your aching. Revali held out his wing, “You’re lucky, I happened to be at Zora’s Domain picking up some fish - Mipha had asked me to drop this off,” he dropped the bottle into Daruk’s hand, “She said to add some of the hot spring water you have here in the mountains.” Daruk slowly curled his fist around the glass, a grateful smile gracing his face, the spring water would be perfect to help you feel better, that he was sure of!  Turning on his talons, Revali gave a short ‘hmph’, “Normally I wouldn’t waste my time to go out of my way to Eldin,” he turned halfway toward his comrade, a small smile barely peeking through his beak, “...But I suppose it’s different when it’s your friends that are in need.”  His Goron cohort chuckled, “Yer alright, Revali,” Daruk swiped at his nose, “And ya have my thanks.” Wordlessly the Rito champion took off with Daruk shortly making his way to the nearest hot spring to gather a bit of it into the bottle and shake up the concoction. It turned an earthy red, a familiar color he’d seen on the battlefield before when training with his fellow champions not too long ago. He wasted no time waking you once more to sip the potion, your face screwing up in disgust from the aftertaste. But as soon as you did, you felt your shivering start to diminish, the pelts covering you comfortably now instead of barely keeping in the warmth you constantly sought.  Large fingers held to your forehead once more, a rumbly sigh of solace sounding just above you. Your eyes fluttered open, “Daruk...?”  His smile was warm, dark blue eyes filled with relief and contentment. A hand cradled your back as he helped you sit upright, “Ya almost had me in a panic there, sweetheart...never seen ya that sick before.” You eased yourself into his big arms, “I’m sorry, hunny, I didn’t mean to make you worry so much.”  Kisses were pressed into your cheek and forehead as he held you tight against him, “I’m just glad you’re feelin’ better.” It was your turn to give him a kiss, though yours was one of gratitude.  “Knowing I’ve got the great Daruk to take care of me, I was bound to be better in no time.” Daruk couldn’t stop the wide grin that stretched across his face, happy as ever to see you feeling like yourself already. He’d have to remember to thank his friends for the timely assistance. 

[megan017]

Douma x reader idea which I might write a fanfic about later on (I just have to get this out of my mind right now, it's past 1 AM)

You were part of his cult and met him when you two were little children. His parents of course looked at him as a blessing, almost like a God (well, thought that he could talk with them because of his rainbow [KHM KHM PANSEXUAL FLAG] eyes), and didn't want the "dirty", "unworthy" followers to lay a single finger on him, still thought that maybe a friend might be good for Douma. And guess what? You were the one to win this All-So-Mighty leader's attention (don't ask what I'm saying at this point-)

You, as a somewhat innocent child, tried your best to be a good friend with him and suprisigly, your friendship worked out so well, that you even considered eachother best friends (you two were the only friends for eachother, no suprises here). You understood his struggles with emotions and tried to explain to him what they are like. One day, unfortunately, his parents thought that you are taking away their son's attention from the cult and decided to get rid of you in an inhuman way<3. This "inhuman way" just meant that your were sacrificed (killed) right in front of Douma, however they had enough humanity in themselves to let you have your last words, which were:

"I just hope that you will be able to feel emotions one day... Maybe not now..., maybe not soon, but hopefully not too late either..." you said with tears in your eyes as you looked at your best friend, for the last time, with an apologetic smile on your face. "...I'm sorry I couldn't help you feel anything..."

(^Big words from a child, I know, but I will do my research later-)

Aaaaand you get killed BUT NO WORRIES, I planned that you get turned into a demon maybe by Kokushibo<3, I will put this together, already on it. You would have 4 eyes (isn't that cool?) and then reunite with Douma in the Infinity Castle (awww, so romantic, isn't it?) You would remember eachother's faces, one of the only things you can recall from your mortal life, I mean... Who could ever forget HIS face? (Me, with the possibility of face blindness)

Edit 1: GUYS I KNOW! Kokushibo will see his human self in you. Lemme explain! You had a younger sister and as she showed how talented and everything she is, your parents started to turn all their attention towards her and decided that at the age of SOMETHING you get sent somewhere, and this somewhere was a cult (that they didn't know was a cult, but YOU didn't know THEY didn't know, which later on even fueled your anger further). I WILL PUT THIS TOGETHER IN A LOGICAL WAY, TO MAKE IT MAKE SENSE, I SWEAR😭

Edit 2: You will be able to switch between your two forms, your normal, everyday demon look, and a little child form, where you will mostly posses all your child like features you had as a child, people would only be able to tell that you aren't human actually, is my your eyes and teeth. Which you knew. So... The way your lure your prey is my hiding your face and acting, sounding like you are crying. The moment someone approaches you and gets close enough, you attack (almost like a specific SCP, but that creature attack you if you ever saw its face, until then, it hides its face in its hands and, if I know right, cries).

[cosmicjoke]

hi there !! thank u sm for answering my ask about the whereabouts of the scouts hq! i guess it's open to speculation of the location prior to the fall of wall maria ( or as i'd liked to call it "free real estate" lol ). anyways, i have another question for you if you don't mind! i love your analysis on levi and how emotionally intelligent he is and how he's in-tune with his emotions. i was wondering, do you think levi is the type to outwardly grieve at all? perhaps in privacy of his own quarters? we seem some subtle moments like when og levi squad dies as an example and we never see him fully cry until the finale. aside those small, yet very impactful moments, do you think he shows his grief in a more expressive way? if so, how do you envision it?

personally, i dont depict levi to be the type to showcase anger through his grief ( i guess unless zeke is involved lol ), but i feel like some days would be extremely difficult for him as he carries around the weight of his dead comrades and friends, especially at night when he's alone. i don't think he cries often, most likely due to growing up in the underground and kenny's "parental teachings", but as i said, i believe there are rare days where it's just too much, ya know?

regardless of my opinions, i would like to hear your thoughts and viewpoint on this !! thank you <3

Hi there!

Thank you for the ask, and I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help with your first! But this one hopefully I can give a better answer, haha.

We do have one, clear instant of seeing Levi express his grief outwardly, of course, and that's when Furlan and Isabel died. And Levi very much did express his grief through anger then. I would even say Levi was enraged, which we never really saw from him again. Even when Zeke forced Levi to kill so many of his own comrades, after turning them into titans, Levi's anger afterward was very controlled and measured, though still apparent. Maybe the closest we see to Levi becoming angry before then is the first time he takes Zeke down, in Shinganshina, after he cuts him out of his titan. But nothing really comes close to the outpouring of intense despair we see from him with Furlan and Isabel.

That probably has something to do with the fact that they were his family. I always say Furlan and Isabel were probably the two people who were closest to Levi in his life. The only two people who understood where he'd come from, because they came from there too. And also because they were the first, two people he really lost to the titan threat. He'd only seen one other person eaten by a titan before then. A soldier whom Levi likely had no relationship with at all. We have to remember, when Levi first joined the SC, he, Furlan and Isabel were outcasts. Nobody liked them, and nobody really talked to them or treated them kindly, outside of Erwin and Hange. The others he saw killed by titans, he only saw the aftermath of. But with Furlan and Isabel, he actually saw them directly eaten, right in front of him, and for all his great strength, he was powerless to stop it from happening.

For all the criticisms I often see lobbed at the anime adaptation of "No Regrets", I won't ever forget the raw emotion we hear in Levi's voice when he kills the titan that killed him family. We never hear Levi like that again. So enraged he sounds like he's on the verge of sobs. That was Levi losing the only two people he had in his life. His chosen family. His two first and best friends. That was Levi losing his whole world. His rage at Erwin afterward was also a manifestation of that pain. He was overcome by his grief in that moment.

I think, after that, Levi was able to form other connections, and other bonds. Especially with Hange and Erwin, and of course his own squad. And I think he felt the pain of their loss just as keenly as he did Isabel and Furlan. But by then, in order to keep moving forward himself, in order to keep fighting, Levi needed to learn to control that grief and keep it locked away. To not let it consume him or distract him. It's never been that Levi doesn't feel every loss with deep, genuine emotion, or that he's unaffected, or removed from the feeling of loss. He's always been, I think, more deeply impacted by the loss of life than anyone. He just learned to control that feeling, and more for the sake of others than for himself. He wants to stay strong so that he can do his job of protecting and fighting for others. He doesn't allow himself to wallow in his grief because he thinks it might compromise his duty to others. And that's Levi's selflessness again.

I'm certain there's been many, MANY moments in which Levi felt an overwhelming despair. I just spoke about this, in my post about how Levi more often looks sad to me than stoic. I think, when he's at rest especially, we see Levi's grief manifest on his face and in his body language. When there's nothing for him to channel his grief and despair into, it shows plainly on him. So I wouldn't be surprised if, when he had moments alone, he did give into it, if only a little. Levi doesn't strike me as much of a crier. I have a hard time picturing him really openly sobbing, for example. But he is capable of tears, and he may indeed have shed tears in private moments, when he felt sure it wouldn't negatively impact anyone around him.

There's of course something deeply tragic in that. In Levi feeling the NEED to hide his grief. To not let it show for fear of it somehow affecting others. That he feels his grief is less important than his duty toward protecting others. That he shouldn't be allowed to indulge in it. And we know this is an attitude with Levi only holds for himself. Because he never scolds anyone else for giving in to THEIR grief, and in fact does the opposite, providing them with what comfort and reassurance he can. The first time we meet Levi, he's comforting a dying soldier who's crying, wondering if he'd done his duty, holding his hand and telling him that he's done more than enough. Or with the soldier who lead the titans to them after the disaster with the Female Titan. Instead of scolding that soldier for allowing his grief to endanger the entire unit, Levi gave him Petra's patch, and told him it was his friends, just to comfort him. Or when Eren begins crying when they're all trapped in the cavern underneath Rod Reiss' estate, and while everyone else is yelling at him, telling him to man up, Levi doesn't yell at him at all, despite the peril they're all in. He instead tells Eren he's sorry to have to ask for his help again, and after Eren is able to save them, he's the only one to thank Eren and express his gratitude by telling him that it's thanks to his efforts that they'll be able to retake Wall Maria again. Or when he tells Erwin thank you, after Erwin confesses to his own grief and guilt. Instead of scolding Erwin for showing weakness in the face of catastrophe, he tells Erwin that it's thanks to him that the SC was able to get as far as it had. He tells Erwin he's been a great leader.

Even while Levi denies himself the comfort of his own grief, he never denies it to anyone else. And once again, that's Levi's selflessness manifesting. And it's heartbreaking to realize, because again, I think Levi probably feels things more deeply than anyone. I think he's more hurt by the loss of his comrades than anyone. But he won't allow himself to really process that hurt, or find any solace by giving in to his grief.

[tanalogyosc]

Argument (Story)

Just like always, just like it has been.

Once the challenge was announced, the teams scurried to the glade to continue with the challenge. It would've been an easy challenge to do... if it wasn't for the fact that Quill and Mango started arguing.

"What the? The challenge was to collect a certain plant specimen! Dividing ourselves is the fastest way to go with it!" Quill spoke out.

"Welll I'm sooorrry! But unlike you who have a perfect eyesight, we literally have two people who only have one eye in our team, we need to search for it together in case someone missed it!" Mango replied.

The two bickered while their teammates watched in silence. Yes, this was just their daily routine by now.

The moment they wake up, the two would go to the cafeteria only to argue about how the food they were eating was better with this or that. It doesn't help that their cultural differences clash with each other too.

After arriving at certain locations, they would immediately go their separate ways. Quill preferred anything that could give him inspiration for his novel, and Mango would go see the entertainment and beauty the location could offer. However, they would usually meet each other again and start to bicker about how the other was following them.

Toast, Street Lantern, and Beetroot can do nothing but wait until they somehow resolve their issues themselves. But today was not the case for that, the countdown of the challenge still moves even when they're bickering.

"Guyss, can we just like, go in pairs?" Toast spoke up. Mango and Quill immediately paused, of course, if the first and second options can't be decided then why not settle for a third option? But... the problem was how they would split the pairings.

"Ahem, it is true that we could simply go in pairs but," Quill thought, "We have an odd number of people, how are we going to split?"

"Well, since you can be much more precise with those eyes of yours, why don't you just go alone," Mango scoffed.

"Hey, it's not my fault I have a sharp eyesight! That's just the perk of being bird-related," Quill replied immediately.

Beetroot watches in defeat as the two starts bickering again, "Sigh, we're never gonna get this challenge finished are we?" It would seem like the argument would continue forever when suddenly Street Lantern had a perfect idea.

"Hey, um, Since like, Markov and I have one eye each that means we have a pair of eyes," Street Lantern looked at Beetroot, "And that would mean we need Beatrice to be the second pair of eyes!"

Toast looked at her in confusion, "Wait why all thr- Oh, I see." Toast looked at Beetroot and both nodded in unison, as they understood Street Lantern's plan.

"Yeah, Marko, Victoria and me are gonna go look together. So you two should pair up, ok bye!" and with that, the trio quickly exit stage left into the forest.

Quill and Mango stared in confusion as their form disappeared into the woods, "T-they can't be serious?! Argh, fine, we need to work together if we wanna win this challenge, capiche?", Mango spoke to Quill.

"Hah, as if I would want us to lose just because I'm forced to be with you," Quill replied.

As the two walked in the opposite direction, the trio silently watched from the trees in relief. Hopefully, they can just resolve their conflict when the challenge has ended.

But for now, they must find a certain plant to win.

"Wait, I forgot, what plant were we supposed to find?" Toast asked. The girls stared in horror as they realized the only ones who remembered what they were supposed to find was Mango and Quill...

[lookingupatthesamemoon]

selfshiptober day 8: swim + terror

pairing: Harper + Cooper Adams/Abbott

summary: Harper encounters Cooper yet again, taking a late night dip in her campus' pool.

word count: 2.3k

cw: canon-typical violence, serial killer implications, s/i does not care that Cooper is The Butcher

divider by @/strangergraphics :)

Harper had always thought of herself as a lucky girl. She had the gift of getting away with all sorts of things, big and small – which, of course, included what she was getting up to now. The campus fitness center had closed for the night about two hours ago, but here she was, enjoying a late night swim in their heated pool. Her roommate worked there most mornings, sitting at the front desk, reminding people to check in before beginning their workout routines. It was mindless, Harper always thought, but at least the girl was getting paid to do it. Of course, she couldn’t complain too much when she knew exactly where her roommate kept her keycard and her set of keys, essentially allowing her access to the building whenever she wanted – well, assuming her roommate didn’t catch on. 

Harper had taken pride in her impish ways for as long as she could remember. She understood that she was a little different, a little off-kilter, but that self-awareness only allowed her to hide it better. She was conniving, and felt that it was in her best interest to use that to her advantage as if it was some sort of special skill. To her, it was. Her latest scheme involved raising her GPA… If it weren’t for that statistics class, she’d surely have a 4.0 instead of the 3.8 she was currently resting at. Her professor was a bit of a hardass, but she could tell there was a softer chump underneath it all. She could tell, just by the way he held himself, that he was a desperate, degenerate man… His classroom was likely the only place he could exercise any control. She was great at reading people, she thought.

As she pondered possible methods of seduction, hopefully in exchange for raising her grade, she was suddenly pulled out of her own head by a loud slam coming from the direction of the men’s locker room. She could’ve sworn she heard footsteps on their way to the main pool room, causing her to panic. Depending on who those footsteps belonged to, and even moreso, what their intentions were, she wasn’t sure this was a situation she could talk her way out of. Harper was frozen in place debating her next move. Making quite literally any movement could give her away, as the water would make too much noise in the otherwise silent building. If she simply dunked herself under the surface where she was, whoever it was might miss her in the dim light, but she had to assume she would be even less detectable if she waded over to one of the pool’s corners. She began to do so, taking extremely slow steps in order to make the least noise possible. 

Unbeknownst to her, The Butcher had been traipsing around the campus, on the hunt for his next victim. The college kids were always too easy. He had only ever kidnapped two from this campus… Too many more, and it would look far too suspicious. The FBI was already onto him, and he knew it, which only encouraged him to randomize his targets as much as he could, as well as slow himself down. But it had always been hard for Cooper to fight the urge, and sometimes, he had to satiate it in the easiest way he knew how. He was smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, and when he had noticed the singular light on inside the fitness center, he was sure he had found the perfect mark. He tried to keep quiet as he slipped into the building, not wanting to give whoever was in there too many opportunities to escape. While he did like the idea of the chase, he hated to risk them getting away, especially when they could potentially identify him. Besides, staying quiet made it easier for him to track down his prey. As he journeyed through the men’s locker room, he couldn’t help but notice the sounds of whoever else was in the building were beginning to get louder. He could hear the distinct sound of arms swishing through water – and based on the pitch of the sound, he was assuming those arms were small, suggesting that whoever it was would stand no chance against his tall, muscular build. He slinked through the shadows, until finally, he could put his eyes on his target, finally slamming a locker shut to make his presence known.

From afar, he couldn’t really tell too many specifics about the person – all he could tell was that they seemed to be a woman. That worked. Cooper was unlike some of his contemporaries in that he didn’t discriminate  when it came to his killings – well, aside from children. He never killed children. But other than them, everyone was “up for grabs,” so to speak: men, women, and everyone in between alike. His last victim was a young man… Why not make things even. He rolled his neck a bit, then headed for the pool.

As soon as Harper saw the figure headed toward the pool, she dove under the water’s surface, praying to a God that she didn’t even believe in that whoever was lurking in the shadows hadn’t heard, and that they would stomp right on past her. Of course, she knew better, and in a matter of moments, her prayers were left unanswered as she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head – her hair was being pulled at, forcing her head above the water. She screamed, splashing at the assailant in hopes it would deter them long enough for her to get the fuck out of dodge, but to no avail. It wasn’t until she looked up, seeing the perpetrator’s face, that she calmed down.

“Cooper?” She shrieked. 

“Harper,” he replied, a huff escaped his nose. He put on that fake smile he had gotten so good at, slowly letting her hair go, but keeping just enough laced through his fingers to keep her from running too far. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“Cooper… Let go of my hair.”

She met his eyes, trying to assert some semblance of dominance – it wasn’t exactly working. He still wasn’t sure if he could trust her. He was realizing in real time that he was fucked with this girl. He had two options: he could kill her, ending their perverse game of cat-and-mouse once and for all, or he could let her go yet again. This was now their fourth meeting – though, this might’ve been the first one that Harper hadn’t forcibly orchestrated. He wouldn’t put it past her, of course, based on one of their last encounters… But her performance here, her fear, seemed far too legitimate to him to have been planned. 

You see, Harper was not the type of person Cooper ever anticipated dealing with. Outside of… Well, this, he was a relatively common man. He had everything the American dream could advertise: a nuclear family, complete with both a son and a daughter, a white picket fence, steady work as a firefighter. He took pride in his job, sure, but he was far from a celebrity, even if his page in the firehouse calendar was everyone’s favorite. It was a delicate dance, keeping that normal life entirely separate from his… Hobby. He put great effort into covering his tracks, outside of his trademark of scattering limbs at all of his crime scenes – they were really the only pattern the FBI had to go off of in their attempts to track him down. This part of him was almost completely unknown – just how he liked it. What he failed to consider, however, was that his news reports and his police profiles might garner a little fanclub of their own, resulting in freakish little groupies like Harper. She was the only one that had found him, of course, but he knew there had to be others out there like her. 

“Cooper,” Harper started again, “be a good boy and let go of my hair.”

Cooper’s eyes glinted briefly as he grimaced, finally releasing her completely. She took two steps back in the water, keeping her eyes on him as he remained crouching next to the pool’s edge, his shirt damp from the water she had doused him with earlier. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

“What am I doing, Cooper?”

“You’re doing that thing, that thing that they all do, where you talk like my mother to try to disarm me. It’s not going to work.”

Harper smirked. “You know, it would do you good to listen to me, Cooper. I know who you are. And I’ve already told you, I’m no threat to you. I’m not taking this to the cops or the FBI or anyone else. I just think, you know… we might make a good team.”

“And I’ve already told you… I work alone. I don’t need some little girl fucking up my plans and procedures.”

“Oh, Cooper… You don’t mean that,” Harper pouted.

“Don’t,” Cooper growled, watching as her hands slowly reached up behind her neck, toying with the strings of her bathing suit.

“What? You gonna kill me?” She teased, pausing and bringing her arms back down. “That would be the stupidest move you would ever make in your life, killing me. There’s no one else on this entire planet that knows this part of you and likes it. I’m telling you, Cooper… I could be your greatest asset. All I’m asking is that you let me.”

His upper lip curled. He hated how much that point made sense. He hated her. He hated how much she knew about him just from her relentless research. He hated the way she had tried over and over to insert herself into his life, even going as far as tying him up for the sake of a dinner date. And yet, he couldn’t deny that while looking at her, half naked and sopping wet, he saw something angelic. If nothing else, maybe she was right. Maybe she was a tool that he could use, and whenever he was finished, he could toss her out of his life like a bad batch of egg salad, in the way that he did with every other victim he had the pleasure of doing business with.

Harper watched, still keeping her distance, as Cooper’s face contorted, his brain clearly working its way through her repeated proposition. She swore she could see him soften, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly as he relaxed. She smiled, choosing to wade closer to him, perhaps against her best judgment.

“What’s in it for you?” Cooper finally thought to ask. “I mean, really… How does becoming my little minion help you in any way?”

“Easy,” Harper scoffed. “I get to live out my twisted little fantasies.”

“And you’re willing to put all of this – school, your job, your family – in jeopardy for this? I mean… You’ve gotta recognize how dangerous this is for you. I could snap your fucking neck right now if I wanted to-”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could. Don’t interrupt me.”

Harper stuck her tongue out playfully, stifling a giggle. He thought he was so tough… And he was, she supposed, but she could handle him. Despite only knowing him personally for a matter of weeks, she knew plenty about what made The Butcher tick.

“You’re nothing like the others,” Cooper mused after a few moments. “You’re not afraid of me. Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Because I know you.”

Harper inched even closer, her own fingers curling over the pool’s edge, mere centimeters away from Cooper’s. She took a shaky breath, sticking her chin up like a giraffe reaching after a tall tree, pausing once her face was close enough to his that she could feel his breath on her skin. Cooper sighed, glancing down to meet her eyes. “You’re not gonna give this up, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Harper replied, a devilish grin spreading across her cheeks. “Why would I ever let The Butcher, my favorite muse, out of my sight, hm? I’m your biggest fan.”

Cooper said nothing in response. Instead, he finally rose up from his crouching position, his six-foot stature now towering over her and the pool. He hastily removed his shirt, discarding it on the pool deck. His jeans soon followed, the metal of his belt buckle clanging against the stone as they fell. Slowly, he waded into the pool in his underwear, meeting Harper where she stood..

In one swift movement, his left hand was cupping the side of Harper’s face. His palm was almost as big as the side of her head. A yelp escaped her lips as he pushed her head against the closest edge of the pool, followed by a slight giggle. Anyone else in their right mind would be terrified, but Harper… Well, she was feeling something else entirely. She side-eyed him, taking in the look of madness in his eyes, admiring how twinkly they seemed to get when he was angry.

Angry. Cooper found his grip lessening ever so slightly as he realized what he was feeling. He wasn’t faking this. This frustration was real, realer than it ever was with his actual victims. He could still feel.

“You’re not going to the cops?” He asked her, still pressing her head against the coping. 

“Never. I promise.”

He took his hand away, allowing her to slowly lift her head back up. She rubbed the right side of her face, stars in her eyes as she realized there would surely be bruising there in the morning.

“You know where the house is, the one you found me in. Come find me there tomorrow.”

[mike-haters-dni]

About a mile outside of the apocalyptic hellscape that was once their town, two teams of determined, young adventures gear up for what will hopefully be the triumphant end to the recurring nightmare they had been living in for the last four years. Boxes of MRE’s, water, weapons, and first aid supplies are being distributed and packed into trucks in preparation, and after a round of hopeful goodbye-for-nows, they’re almost ready to embark on their separate missions.

The two Wheeler siblings, the appointed leaders of their respective groups, meet somewhere in the middle to touch base one last time.

“I guess it runs in the family,” Mike says as he approaches.

Nancy raises an eyebrow at him.

“What does?”

“People thinking that we’re good leaders,” Mike answers ironically.

“Hmm,” Nancy considers, “I always thought it was just being bossy and obnoxious.”

Mike lets out a short laugh. Maybe there was still some truth to that statement but by now they had both come to terms with that part of themselves.

“I guess that too.”

A lightness drifts in the air for a moment. A lightness, Nancy realizes, she hasn’t felt between them in a long time, since they were young kids. Maybe it’s the ominous precarity of the situation they’re in bringing out the nostalgia in everyone’s relationships, or maybe they had both finally grown up.

A sadness forces its way in with this thought, and Nancy pushes it down to the same place she’s keeping her dread.

She turns back to Mike.

“Hey, try not to die, ok? Mom’s already worried and if something happens to you I’m the one who’ll have to deal with that.”

She starts adjusting the front of Mike’s jacket like an overbearing mother making sure her children were presentable. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t try to stop her, playing along with her act.

“Yeah well, I don’t wanna deal with that either,” Mike retorts. He was slightly better at playing over the tenderness in his tone.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Nancy scolds, looking Mike sternly in the eyes. She tugs on the opening of his jacket for emphasis: “We’ll be mostly running the parameter so if you need anything, call us. I’m sure Steve will be happy to help if you run into anything that needs a little more manpower.”

Mike’s face narrows in sarcastic skepticism.

“What if I need extra brainpower?”

“Then call me.”

Nancy finishes messing with Mike’s clothes and puts her hands strongly on his shoulders, like if she did so hard enough it could imbue him with her own strength and protect him so matter where he goes. She considers explicitly stating what she had been saying in their indirect sibling code this whole time, but the warmth in his eyes told her that he already understood completely.

There was something else in his eyes, as well. Something that had been budding for the last few years. All that untamed anger and resentment that had boiled under his skin for so long had been replaced by strength. Real strength, born from practiced patience and understanding, the drive to selflessly protect something meaningful, and a care for the self that overflowed into unrestricted love for others.

Maybe it was foolish, but it gave her some hope that everyone was going to be okay.

“MIKE!” Dustin called from the now packed up off-roader. “C’MON, WE’RE LOSING DAYLIGHT!”

“OKAY!” Mike yelled back. Dustin shot back an “ok” sign and slid into the passenger seat.

Mike turned back to Nancy, who was still gripping his shoulders. “Can I go?”

“Right.” She dropped her arms. “Just remember, check-in at sundown.”

“I know.” Mike started walking away.

“And don’t keep that gun loaded in the holster.”

“I know--” A few steps away now.

“Even if the safety is on!”

“I got it.” He threw her a thumbs up.

“And, Mike!”

Mike turned on his heels to look at her, exasperated.

“What???”

“Good luck.”

[here4theheartbreak]

Two’s a Party (3 is a Crowd) [bc, lf, lmh]

AO3 | AsianFanFics

Relationships: Bangchan x Felix x Lee Minho Genre: smut | demon AU Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~22.1k words

Tags: Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Demon AU, Polyamory, Corruption AU, Alcohol, Demon!Minho, Cambion!Chan, First Kiss, Dirty Talk, Bottom Felix, Top Minho, Bottom Felix, Top Chan, DP, Rough, Light D/s, Aftercare

Summary: Felix’s father had always warned him that two was a party but three was a crowd. Felix had never understood the meaning of the warning, until he met Lee Minho.

Square: Lucifer - SHINee (@kpopwritingbingo) (also used inspiration from the song Two’s A Party by Hania Lee)

Felix’s father was full of advice that he swore was helpful, even life or death sometimes. Unfortunately, it was often bizarre. Don’t wear red on Fridays, always eat potatoes and corn on the thirteenth of the month, only bring a white or blue umbrella to church when it’s raining, etcetera. He swore that angels gave him these gems of advice, which would have sent most individuals to the institution. But Felix’s father also happened to be a very well-respected preacher in their local parish. Though known to have an eccentric viewpoint on the world, he also provided their parish with invaluable support and affection. He was vital for the wellbeing and healing of many people. A few odd quirks were worth it for the service he willingly provided.

 Felix, on the other hand, had never understood the draw of religion. Though he grew up in the church from birth, he’d never really connected with it in the way his father had, or even his mother, who had been atheist until she met and subsequently married his father. His mother reminded him again and again that not everyone can be chosen to hear the word audibly – sometimes they needed to seek it out in other areas of their life, like she did with her child and spouse.

But the world was just that to Felix. It was a spinning ball of rock and lava, and one day it would likely explode, hopefully long after he passed away – though given the wars cropping up everywhere – it may not last that long. People were biological miracles, sure, but their existence was easily explained with science, not the involvement of a random deity in the sky.

Despite his ambivalence toward religion, Felix and his father did have a good relationship. His father believed firmly that “God had a plan” for Felix, and it would be something big and amazing. Felix politely humored him, smiling and nodding when his father would go off on some rant about the coming end of days and Felix’s ‘important role’ in them. He would listen to his father’s quirky advice, often chuckling at it, and more often than not forgetting it within the next few hours.

One particular piece of advice though, Felix always remembered quite distinctly; though if asked, he couldn’t explain why. Once, when he was barely ten years old, his father took him aside from where he was playing with a couple of his friends.

 “Remember, Felix. You need to understand that two is a party but three’s out of hand, boy.”

 Felix had been reasonably confused; wondering why his father didn’t want him to play with more than one friend at a time. When pressed, his father had shaken his head and explained that he didn’t mean now. That Felix would understand someday soon, and it was vitally important that he remember.

 “Two is a party, but three is a crowd. Stay away from it.”

 If Felix had to guess, he likely remembered the advice because it made some modicum of sense. Third wheels, a new person driving a wedge between two friends; a lot of bad things came with a third person. Furthermore, it was often said that bad news came in three, perhaps his father was just drawing on that old saying. He also likely remembered it because his father repeated it so often to him; far more frequently than his other quirky proverbs – at least every other year; more often as Felix began to date and explore his independence.

 The warning was never a threat, however, until one day, long after Felix had moved out and gotten his own job, a man in his mid-twenties who absolutely never went to church, except on holidays where he visited his parents. This was one such Christmas, and Felix had brought a guest; a handsome man he’d been dating for just under a year at that point.

Chan was everything Felix had ever dreamed of finding. He was handsome and muscular, with a sweet face and dimples that could catch a gallon of rain. Felix had fallen for him within their first few dates; a surprising change for a man who had normally been so picky with his partners in the past.

“Knock, knock,” Felix said, sticking his head in the door. The warm, comforting smell of home hit him, making his heart ache immediately.

“Lix, is that you?” His mother called.

“It’s us, yeah.” He entered fully and stepped aside, allowing Chan in. They shut the door and removed their shoes and coats, hanging them just as his mother rushed into the room.

“Oh, it’s been too long,” she cooed, grabbing Felix’s face in her hands and squeezing. “Have you been eating? You’re so slim.”

Felix smiled and nodded, grasping her wrists gently. “I’ve been eating well, I promise.” He hugged her gently. “How have you been, Mom?”

“Oh, you know how it is. We’re doing well.”

“Good. Um… Mom, this is Bang Chan. The man I told you about. My boyfriend.” He stepped aside. Chan smiled and bowed politely.

“It’s great to finally meet you, ma’am. Felix has talked so highly of his family.”

She looked him up and down, her eyes narrowing for a moment. Anxiety knotted Felix’s stomach as the silence stretched on.

She nodded after a few moments. “You’re different than I imagined. Handsome boy, you look strong.” She nodded again, glancing at Felix and grinning. “Apparently you finally learned how to choose a good partner.”

Felix relaxed, laughing at her words and nodding. “Apparently. Only took a few years.” He wrapped his arm around Chan’s middle, feeling him relax.

“What do you do for a living, Chan?” She asked, heading back into the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

Chan and Felix followed. “Music. I produce mostly.”

“Anything I would’ve heard?” She asked, stirring various pots on the stove.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Chan said. He glanced around, and Felix pointed to a stool behind their island. He sat in the other. “I work mostly with rap artists, do a little rapping myself. Nothing big yet, but I’m trying.”

“You’re doing well though, financially?” She pressed.

“Mom,” Felix whined, his cheeks pinking up.

“It’s a valid question, isn’t it?” She said, shaking a spoon at him. Chan grinned.

“It is. Wants to make sure I’m not slacking off. No, I’m doing well. The nice thing about my job is it keeps me pretty busy so I can make quite a bit. You don’t have to worry about your son.”

She nodded. “So how have you been, Lix? You don’t call me enough.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy in the city.”

“Too busy for your old folks, eh?” Came a voice from the doorway. Felix turned, beaming at his father. He slid off the stool and went to him, hugging him warmly.

“How’ve you been, Dad?”

“Oh, doing just fine, blessed as always.”

Felix smiled patiently. He took a step back and set his hand on Chan’s shoulder. “Dad, this is my boyfriend that I talked to you about on the phone. The one I really like. Chan, this is my dad.”

Chan turned and stood, bowing low in greeting. “Amazing to meet you,” he said in a soft, reverent voice.

Felix’s heart swelled at the kindness; Chan was trying so hard to make a good impression and he was honored.

Felix’s father narrowed his gaze. “This is the boy you were talking about? The nice one?”

Felix nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that I’ve been dating for a year now.” He said hopefully, stressing the length of time when his father seemed reluctant.

“Hm.”

Felix’s shoulders drooped a little. He glanced at his mother, who wore a similarly confused expression on her face. The two had never taken issue with Felix’s sexuality; his father was of the mindset that God never made a mistake, so if his son liked boys, then he was meant to. He’d also never outright disliked any of Felix’s boyfriends in the past, believing that kindness to all was the key to a happy life. So this ambivalence was beyond strange.

“Come here, boy.”

Felix followed his father out of the kitchen and through the living room into the back room that his father used for his study. Once in it, his father pushed the door shut.

“How much do you know about this man?”

“Chan?” Felix laughed. “Everything. We’re dating. I really think he might be the one, Dad.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

His smile faded. “Dad, you’ve never had a problem with me dating guys in the past…”

“It’s not your sexuality. It’s that man.”

“Chan is amazing,” Felix defended, anger bubbling into his tone. “You don’t know him; he’s kind and he’s sweet and he makes me so happy. I’ve smiled more with him, he protects me, he’s always gentle with me, even if I’m being a jerk.”

His father sighed heavily, tilting his head a little. Felix scowled.

“What?” He snapped, crossing his arms.

“I warned you, Felix. All your life, I’ve been warning you about him.”

“You’ve warned me not to wear red on certain days and not to eat legumes on a rainy Saturday in April. You warn people about a lot of stupid stuff. How the hell does any of that have to do with Chan?”

“Three, Felix.”

“He’s not three. He’s one. And with me, he’s two.”

His father shook his head, but Felix raised his hand. “No. I’m sorry, Dad. You’ve always been quirky with your advice, you believe God’s told you these things, that’s fine. But this is one time where I’m saying no. I’m not going to let your silly fairytales ruin the best thing I’ve had in a long time. I’m in love with Chan. Either you can respect that, and we can move forward tonight, or you can’t, and he and I will go. But I won’t have you disrespecting him.”

“You seem to forget whose house this is, Felix.”

“No, I’m not. I know it’s your house, and I know that who you decide to have in it is your decision. I’m using my own rights as an adult to not stay in this house if you won’t respect the person I’m here with.”

“It isn’t my house. It’s God’s. And it’s God that won’t have that creature in this house. That is a demon, boy – and you’re falling right into his trap.”

Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Leave it, Dad. I haven’t believed in your fairy tales in a long time. I’m not about to start now. Chan loves me for me. And I love him. I won’t let you ruin that because you think he’s hiding a tail in his jeans.”

“Demons come in all forms, son.”

“Not the point.” Felix raised both hands in front of his face, shaking them gently to signal the end of the conversation. “We’re gonna go.”

“Son…”

“No, Dad.” Felix sighed, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion from the argument. “I haven’t been home in a while. I wanted this to be good. I do – But I can’t let you treat my guest badly just because some sky fantasy makes you think you have a right to. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not a child anymore, I’ve made my decision on religion and fantasies and I want no part of it. Chan isn’t a demon, he’s a good man. I don’t know what this is, or why it’s come up now but… This isn’t the time. And I’m not gonna make Chan sit through an awkward dinner because of it, and I’m not going to either.”

He turned and opened the door, but felt his father’s hand on his shoulder before he could leave.

“You really don’t need to go,” he said. “Your mother has missed you.”

“If I stay, so does he.” Felix said firmly, hoping his father couldn’t feel him shaking. He glanced back, meeting his father’s stony expression. Felix nodded once. “That’s what I thought.”

He shook his father’s hand off his shoulder and walked into the kitchen, where Chan was talking softly with his mother. Felix smiled softly at the scene, his heart aching.

Felix’s mother met his gaze. She seemed to silently understand what had happened, and nodded once. “It’s too late to switch your tickets, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Felix said, entering the kitchen fully.

“Do you want me to try and talk to him?”

Felix shook his head no and shrugged at the same time. “I don’t know that it would change his mind.”

“What did he say?”

Felix shook his head again, not wanting to say it in front of Chan. “Spouting his demon stuff.”

“He does have a connection with the Lord.”

“Maybe he does. And that’s fine. But it’s not an excuse to be cruel to someone he just met.”

“I’m okay, ‘Lix,” Chan said softly, taking his hand. “Should I go? I can find a place to chill out, I’m sure there’s a bar or two open.”

“No. That isn’t fair. I promised you I’d spend the holidays with you, and I will.” He circled around the small island and hugged his mother. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you a bit, Felix.” She said, squeezing him. She patted his back. “I would do the same thing in your place. There are some motels still open, I bet you boys can find one.”

“We’ll look.”

She squeezed his shoulder, stepping back. In a quiet voice she spoke, “your father is going to the church tomorrow for a service, like he always does.”

“We can’t—”

“No, no.” She smiled. “Come over then. Both of you. We’ll have a nice lunch, just the three of us, okay?”

Felix smiled softly, relaxing. “Yeah?”

“Yes. You haven’t been here in so long. I’m not going to let whatever’s gotten your father up in a twist ruin my chance to spend time with my son and his new beau. I’ll see what’s gotten your father all upset as well, maybe I can offer some advice, or wind him down.”

“Don’t get yourself into a fight with him over us.”

“Oh, I think you know I can handle your father just fine.”

Felix laughed and nodded. “I know you can. We’ll stop by tomorrow after he goes.”

“Alright. Text me when you find a place to stay, okay?”

Felix nodded again. He and Chan rose, heading to the door to put their shoes and outer clothes back on. He could feel someone watching him as he did, and a quick glance back confirmed his father was standing in the doorway of his study. His eyes were narrowed until he met Felix’s gaze. He shook his head slowly and held up three fingers.

Felix rolled his eyes and waved, wrapping an arm around Chan’s waist pointedly as they walked out of the house.

 Felix remained quiet except to guide Chan through the town to a small motel on the edge of it. It wasn’t until they’d secured a room – and Felix smiled through fifteen minutes of praise about his father’s sermons – that Chan finally spoke.

“What happened back there, man?”

“Nothing. My dad’s religion finally getting the best of him.”

“You said he was okay with you being gay.”

“He swears he is. But apparently you’re a demon.” Felix laughed at the surprised expression that twisted Chan’s face.

“A demon?” Chan laughed once, his smile wavering. “That’s a pretty mean thing to say.”

“I know. I’m sorry, that’s why I didn’t want to go into detail about it. I’m not sure what got into him. I just didn’t want to deal with it tonight.”

“I don’t blame you.” Chan stepped up to him, wrapping his arms around Felix’s middle and pressing a kiss to his lips. Felix relaxed instantly, comforted just by Chan’s presence. He rested his forehead on his shoulder, embracing him in silence for a few moments.

“Why don’t you go take a nice shower,” Chan murmured, rubbing Felix’s back slowly. “I’ll find a place that’s open for delivery, and order us our own dinner, we can have a nice time together without his silliness.” He squeezed Felix’s hips. Felix grinned, hugging him a little tighter.

“Sounds perfect. God, why are you so perfect?” He pulled back, meeting Chan’s gaze. Chan grinned.

“Well, your dad said it. I’m a demon, it’s all a part of my plot to seduce you to the dark side.”

Felix laughed, slapping Chan’s chest lightly. “If this is the dark side, sign me up. I’ve never been happier,” he whispered.

Chan’s smile softened. He kissed Felix once more and patted his ass. “Go take a shower.”

Felix nodded, stepping back from him and grabbing his bag before stepping into the bathroom.

 After Felix showered and changed into sweats, he stepped into the main room. Chan was sitting on the bed, facing away from him as he spoke.

“Yeah, I miss you too.” He paused. “Are you sure?” Another pause. “Yeah, if you’re sure. Of course.” Chan laughed softly. “No, I wouldn’t. I love you.” He laughed again. “Yes, you do. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

He hung up and Felix cleared his throat, stepping fully into the room. Chan dropped his phone onto the nightstand and smiled. “I ordered us food.”

“Aw, are we expressing love to the delivery people now?” He teased, grinning when Chan smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I know I promised just us this weekend.”

Felix shook his head. “I’m not mad. And you know you didn’t have to make that promise. Minho is always welcomed.” He settled onto the bed and Chan stretched out next to him, raising his arm for Felix to snuggle against his side. “How’s he doing? Is he spending the holidays with family?”

“His father, yeah, but you know him – still working.”

“Well I don’t know him,” Felix teased. “I’m glad he isn’t alone. I would’ve felt bad, stealing you away.”

Chan shook his head. He stroked his fingers along Felix’s arm gently, and Felix closed his eyes, listening to the slow, steady beat of Chan’s heart.

 Chan had been transparent right away when he and Felix first started dating. He was polyamorous, and had a boyfriend already. It was different, Felix realized, but his early concerns of jealousy were unfounded. Despite being busy with his job, Chan always made time for both of his boyfriends, and Felix had never once felt like a third wheel, a side piece, or any of the things he’d feared he would. If anything, Chan’s dual relationship was nice; it gave Felix time to himself, allowing him to relax and recharge, and he always knew his partner was happy and being loved even if he couldn’t be there in that moment.

He’d heard a lot about Chan’s other partner, and had begun to care about him in many ways. He was a man named Minho, who apparently worked in the entertainment industry, though Chan never elaborated for Minho’s privacy. Though Minho knew about Felix, and was fully aware and comfortable that he and Chan were dating, Chan explained that he was shy, and declined to meet Chan’s other boyfriends.

 “I actually wanted to talk to you about him,” Chan said, pulling Felix back from the brink of sleep he’d been teetering on.

“Hm?” He mumbled sleepily.

“Minho.”

“What about him?” Felix blinked a few times, shifting to look at Chan directly. “Is he alright? Do you need to go to him?”

“No, he’s fine. He’s happy we’re here. I was telling him about us being in the hotel, he’s sorry your dad’s a dick.”

Felix laughed and nodded. “Him and me both.”

“Um…” Chan bit his lip. “Actually he wanted me to ask you something.”

Felix tilted his head a bit, smiling. “What?” He pressed when Chan didn’t continue.

“Uh… So… You and I have been going out for about a year now. And… It’s pretty obvious we’re serious.”

“I’d like to think so,” Felix agreed.

“I’ve had other boyfriends, but they don’t tend to last. Which is partly why Minho hasn’t wanted to meet you. He doesn’t want to get attached if I end up breaking up with someone. I’m the same way when he dates other people, and if you wanted to date someone else, I think I’d have the same rules with you.”

“It’s fair, I don’t mind. You know I don’t… Does Minho think I do?” Felix worried.

“No, you have been… Absolutely perfect. For both of us. But um… Minho is thinking that it might be time to take our relationship to the next step.”

Felix lifted himself onto his elbow, looking down at Chan. He shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean. Does he want to marry you? Move in with you?”

“Not quite yet.” Chan smiled softly. “No, the next step with you. He was wanting to finally meet you. If you were okay with that. He’d like to have a date. The three of us. See if you and he… Get along, or are compatible. As friends or more, whatever you two end up deciding but… He figures since it’s a pretty good thing between us…” Chan shrugged sheepishly.

A grin spread across Felix’s face. “Really? He—That’s amazing, of course!” He nodded. “I’d be honored. I’d love to meet him.”

“Really?” Chan’s face brightened. He went up on his elbow. “You will?”

“Of course!” Felix laughed. “Chan, I respect him, and I respect his wishes. And I definitely don’t mind you dating him. But I’ve been dying to know him. I don’t even know what he looks like. I’m curious. Who else is your type? Will I like him too? I’m sure I will, he sounds like a really sweet guy. But you never know. He wants to go on a date with us though? Like… You and him and me?”

“Yeah. He thought something casual, us hanging out one night might be nice. He uh… He co-owns a really nice nightclub. It’s a place he knows we’ll be safe and not bothered as a trio of guys who are most definitely not straight.”

“He owns a nightclub?” Felix’s eyes widened. “You forgot to mention that.”

“He asked me not to.”

Felix sighed and smiled, nodding. “I understand. I’d be happy to go on a date with you guys. I’m excited about it.”

Chan nodded. “Great!” He exclaimed. He kissed Felix happily. “I’m so relieved. Thank you.”

“You really worried I’d say no?” Felix pouted.

“Well, not really, but there was a chance,” Chan said, rising and getting the door when it was knocked on. “I still was nervous.” He turned and bowed to the delivery person. “Thank you.”

He brought the food to the small table and Felix joined him, the two eating with comfortable discussion throughout.

After dinner, Chan showered while Felix rested in bed, his eyes shutting on their own volition until the bed sank down with Chan’s weight. Felix rolled over, snuggling against his shower warmed skin.

“Do you want to go to my parent’s again tomorrow?” Felix asked.

“I think so. Your mom is very nice, and I’d like to give her a chance to see you.”

“My dad should be gone a few hours, hopefully; the holiday service always runs long. He’s gonna be furious she’s missing it though.”

“Do you think he’ll come back to chase us off?”

Felix shook his head. “No, he never misses a sermon. She’ll have an earful afterward though, I feel bad, but… I also wanna see her, it’s been too long.”

“You don’t think he’d do something to hurt her, right? We can stick around town a while after in case…”

“Oh no, no,” Felix laughed a bit as he shook his head again. “She’s more likely to smack him, honestly. He can be cold sometimes but he’s not abusive. I’m not worried about her, just feel bad about causing the fight.”

“You didn’t cause it. He was being cruel.” Chan pressed a kiss to Felix’s head. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“You’re important to me,” Felix said softly. “I won’t let anyone treat you like that.”

“I’m gonna make sure you’re cared for too, okay?” Chan pressed, squeezing Felix’s shoulders. “Always. And Minho too, now that we three can be friendly.”

“I really hope he likes me.”

“He will, I know it. I’m so excited for you two to meet.”

Felix snuggled closer to Chan as he pulled the blankets over them, sighing contentedly.

The next afternoon, the two went back to Felix’s parents’ house, relieved to find his father’s car gone. His mother hugged them both, welcoming them into the kitchen where she’d warmed up the dinner from the day before.

“I really am sorry about him,” she said as they ate, looking at Chan. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into him.”

“Did he explain anything else to you?” Felix asked. “About why he was saying that crap about Chan?”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “He swears up and down he’s a demon, but I see nothing but a nice man who treats my boy nice. You look good together, and you’re happy with each other, anyone can see that. I don’t know why he’s gotten on this.”

“It’s okay,” Chan assured her. He set his hand over Felix’s as well. “I’ve dealt with disapproving parents before, honestly. The reason is at least interesting this time. It’s not ‘because he’s a gay man’ or ‘because he’s a musician’ – been called a lot of things, never a demon.” He grinned brightly as he spoke, his dimples carving out a space in his cheek.

Felix laughed, as well as his mother, relaxing the tension in the room.

The three talked freely afterward, easily avoiding the subject of Felix’s father and his sudden religious psychosis. His mother asked about their lives in the city, how Felix’s job was, about their shared and independent friends, and general updates. Though Felix had originally been a little worried about Chan’s reaction to his family, it seemed as if everything was going to end up alright after all, even with his father’s behavior.

As the afternoon stretched on, they moved their chat to the living room, and Felix couldn’t help but smile as Chan made his mother laugh with his jokes and tales from the city. As they got ready to leave to catch their flight, his mother took Felix aside.

“What’s up?”

She smiled softly. “I think your father is partially right.”

Felix’s smile drooped from his face. “Wh—What?”

Despite his concerned expression, her smile broadened. “There’s no way that boy of yours is human. He’s perfect for you, Felix. He’s an angel.”

Felix sighed in relief, laughing softly. He looked over at Chan, who was typing out something on his phone.

“He really is… I’m really in love with him, Mom.”

“I can tell. I know that look.” She squeezed Felix’s chin. “I’m sorry your father couldn’t see this side of you two. I think it would have made him change his mind about Chan.”

“Maybe. But he’ll have a long time to decide. Chan isn’t going anywhere. I…” He smiled softly. “I think he might… Be that one for me. I know it’s early in the relationship to think that, but.”

“No, not at all.” She hugged him tightly. “Sometimes you just know, like I did with your father. I was given a sign from God, maybe you have been to. Believer or not.”

Felix nodded. “Maybe. If one does exist… He definitely sent Chan to me.”

She tsked, brushing her finger over Felix’s cheek. “Love looks good on you, kiddo. You two have a safe flight, okay? Let me know when you land.”

“We will. Love you, Mom.” He hugged her again, before heading back toward Chan.

Chan smiled broadly. “Surprise,” he said, tucking his phone away.

“What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you in the car.” He said. He turned to Felix’s mother. “Thank you again, for being so kind.”

She smiled brightly and pulled him into a tight hug. “You are always welcome here, so long as you keep making Felix smile like that.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Chan said, smiling as well. He made eye contact with Felix over her shoulder and winked playfully before stepping back. “Thank you again, your food was amazing.”

“Thank you both for coming.” She waved them off as they walked out to the car and got in.

Chan leaned over, pressing a kiss to Felix’s mouth before he began driving toward the airport.

“So what’s this surprise?” Felix asked.

“Minho. I told him you agreed to a date, and was really excited. He said he’s actually got tomorrow night off, if you’re free too.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Really? So soon?” He laughed. “Ah, I’m nervous.”

“You have nothing to worry about. He’s just as excited to meet you. But if tomorrow doesn’t work, we can definitely plan for later in the week or the weekend.”

“No, let me just check on something.” Felix dug for his phone, scrolling through his calendar. He shook his head after a moment. “No, I’m okay. I have a call with client at four, but it shouldn’t take any longer than half an hour. Is six okay?”

“Six would be great. I can pick you up and we can go together, he’ll meet us there.”

“At this nightclub he owns?”

Chan nodded.

“Do I know it? Have you taken me before?”

“I haven’t, but you probably know it.”

“What is it?”

“The Lyon’s Den.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Your boyfriend co-owns that place? Holy shit, that’s more than a nightclub, Chan!” He smacked Chan’s shoulder in surprise. Chan laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“That is the hottest spot these days to hang out at. Especially if you’re queer. I’ve been trying to get in there for months.”

Chan laughed brightly. “You never told me.”

“I wanted to surprise you when I finally managed to reserve a spot. I figured you’d want to go too. Little did I know you’re sleeping with the owner.” Felix made a hissing noise of frustration, laughing afterward and throwing his hands in the air. “I can’t believe you.”

Chan’s laugh increased. “I’m sorry, I had no idea! If I’d know I would’ve tried to get you in sooner. Could’ve made up some story to keep Minho’s identity a secret.”

Felix sighed, pouting. “Why are you dating me?” He whined, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re dating someone like that.”

“It has nothing to do with what he does,” Chan assured him. “I knew Minho before he got to that place, you know we were childhood friends. Total coincidence.”

“Still. Now I’m even more nervous.” He buried his face in his hands, concern knotting his stomach. Though he was mostly joking, a new anxiety had definitely formed now that he knew just who he was going to be meeting.

Chan reached over, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I promise, he’s really down to earth. He won’t make you feel bad. And you can just be yourself, Felix. He’s going to love you, I know it.”

Felix whined softly, and Chan sighed. He kept his hand on Felix’s back, gently rubbing comforting circles. “Seriously,” Chan tried again. “I promise, you won’t even notice.”

Felix looked up at Chan, his mouth pursing into a deep pout. “What do I wear?”

Chan laughed. “Want me to come over a little early tomorrow? I can help you pick something that looks good. And something that’ll make Minho think you look… Extra amazing.”

“Would you?”

Chan nodded. “Of course.” He leaned over at a stoplight and pressed a kiss to Felix’s temple.

The touch relaxed him a bit and he smiled. “Thank you.”

Though the flight back home and the evening that followed was peaceful, Felix was still nervous about the upcoming date. Focusing at work was near impossible, and he spent most of the day doing his best to avoid researching information about the Lyon’s Den and its elusive owners. Though the club was a popular spot, the owners were a mystery. There was a large online debate about who owned it, and many people showed photographic “evidence” of this or that person being the owner – but none of the photos seemed consistent with who Chan was dating. Either far too old, a female presenting person, someone obviously married or dating whoever was hanging off his or her arm, etcetera.

 “Still need my help picking an outfit?” Chan asked, leaning against the doorframe to Felix’s bedroom. Felix looked up from where he was standing in his boxeers, staring at a pile of clothes. He twisted his face into a pout that he hoped effectively got his desperation across. Chan smiled and nodded, pushing himself off the frame and entering. He walked around behind Felix and wrapped his arms around his middle, rubbing his thumb lightly over the soft bare skin of his belly.

“You’re beautiful no matter what,” Chan murmured in his ear. He kissed lightly along Felix’s neck and shoulders.”

“Still wanna look good for him,” Felix murmured.

“Were you like this the first date we went on?”

Felix smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I think Seungmin wanted to murder me, I sent him so many outfit choices.”

“Aww,” Chan made a small noise and nuzzled against Felix’s neck. “You looked so handsome that night, I loved it. You didn’t need to worry at all, just like you don’t need to now.”

“Well, I did and I am so help me.” Felix pulled from his grip and turned, shoving a pile of clothes into his arms and flopping onto the bed.

“Where are those tight black jeans you have?” Chan asked, riffling through the clothes in his arms.

“Those? Uh… Dresser still. I didn’t figure that would be appropriate for the club.”

“No, that’ll fit right in.” Chan dropped the clothes in his arms and went to the dresser, crouching to pull it open and grab the jeans he was thinking about. He tossed them onto the bed and then went to Felix’s closet. Felix sat up, pulling the jeans on and going to stand next to him.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…”

He reached in and pulled out a deep red button up that Felix barely remembered owning. He smirked. “This.”

“That?” Felix took it reluctantly, turning to look in the mirror as he held it up to his body. “Are you sure?” The material was almost silky, giving the fabric a glossy sort of look. Chan rested his hands on Felix’s hips, brushing his nose over his ear.

“Very sure. You’ll look stunning.”

Felix smiled at the compliment and nodded. He stepped out of Chan’s grip and pulled on the shirt, taking a moment to tuck it into his jeans and adjust it against his body before looking in the mirror. Chan nodded at his reflection. “Perfect. Run a comb through your hair and you’ll be great. Are you ready otherwise?”

Felix nodded, heading to his dresser to comb his hair and add a touch of gloss to his mouth. He headed to the door after fixing his scattered clothing and pulled on his shoes and jacket, following Chan out to the parking garage.

 The Lyon’s Den was a large space nestled in an already popular part of the city. Because of it’s prime location, as well as it’s alluring ads that began popping up on various social medias almost immediately after its opening, it had quickly drawn attention – both good and bad. Certain conservative members of the city government despised it, and seemed to be hunting for any reason to shut it down, but the owners were smart. Though it had become a hub for queer safety and culture, they never advertised it as such, and did their part as a successful business in the city to help. Nobody could deny that since the club’s opening, their staff’s altruistic behavior had done a lot of good things – both with monetary donations, fundraisers, and other volunteer work that the club was always hosting; shutting them down without some major scandal would be a career ending move for the city leaders.  

 Despite being invited – by the owner, apparently – Felix’s heart still skipped a beat as they approached the bouncer standing at the front, skipping the line entirely.

“Hey, Chan,” the muscular man said, raising his hand. He passed the ID in it back to the young man standing in front of him and nodded to him, stepping aside to allow him entrance before blocking the way for the next person. “He’s waiting for you,” he said, looking at Chan and Felix as he took the ID from the waiting patron.

“Thanks, Hoseok.”

He nodded, glancing at Felix. “This the boy?”

Chan grinned and nodded. He slung his arm over Felix’s shoulders. “Yeah, this is him.”

“You’re right, he’s cute. Go on in.” He stepped forward, looking down at the ID before chuckling. “Seriously kid?” He asked.

Chan pulled Felix into the club before he could hear any more. The inside was even prettier than the photos online would have implied.

It was already full of club goers, loud music from a live band playing up on a raised stage to the far side of the club. The lights were just bright enough to cast enough light, shifting through different colors every few seconds in rhythm to the music. The bar was huge, with what looked like hundreds of bottles of liquor sparkling in the lights. Around the edge of the floor were small alcoves that were partially shielded by sleek black, purple, or red curtains. The nearest one that Felix could see into revealed a soft curved bench surrounding a table. There was a balcony that was reachable by two staircases on either side of the dance floor. It contained various tables and booths, and Felix could see servers in a variety of outfits hurrying between them as they served the patrons.

“This is amazing!” Felix shouted, leaning close to Chan to be heard.

“Right? It’s a great atmosphere! Come on, Minho is up this way.” He laced his fingers with Felix’s so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd. Instead of going toward the floor, Chan led him up the stairs, waving to a short girl with short cropped hair as she went down them.

“How’s business?” He shouted. She laughed.

“Think you’re so funny Mr. Producer! Get a real job!”

Chan laughed brightly. “Love you too, Yechan!” She stuck her tongue out at him, revealing a shiny ball in the center of it, before sliding past them to hurry back down the steps.

“Do you know everyone here?” Felix asked.

“A lot,” Chan said, nodding. “Most have been here since the place opened, it’s a really good place to work.”

“I’ve heard! And hard to get hired.”

Chan nodded again. “Minho and his partner are pretty strict, for a good reason. This is supposed to be a safe space, so if anyone risks that, they can’t be allowed in. Up ahead, here, the gold alcove.” He pointed to the center of the balcony, where both sides came together to form a U shape above the floor. The only gold rimmed alcove was directly in the center, and set a bit closer to the high railing. Though there was still room to pass in front of it, it was clear of tables between it and the railing, giving an unobstructed view of nearly the entire first floor of the club.

Felix followed Chan forward, careful to dodge the fast-moving servers and tables. The food smelled amazing, and his stomach grumbled annoyedly. He grimaced, remembering he’d forgotten to eat today in his nerves. Before he could comment, Chan came to a stop in front of the alcove. He pulled aside the shining gold curtain, allowing Felix to see inside.

The inside of this was similar to the others, with a curved bench surrounding a table. The table was far larger, however, and had an array of drinks and food spread out over it. There was a soft purple light high above the table. The bench was empty save for one person in the center, farthest from the entrance.

Felix gasped softly. The man was beautiful. He looked about their age, but somehow so much older at the same time. His dark hair hung in a perfect fringe over his forehead, just brushing his brows. He wore a silver hoop in his right ear. His eyes were dark and piercing, and Felix immediately felt weak in the knees when their gazes met. There was something deeply unsettling about his expression, his small mouth in curled up at the corners. He had one arm slung back over the empty bench, the other bent at the elbow. His slender fingers gripped the stem of a wine glass filled with deep red wine lightly, and a few thin bracelets dangled from his delicate wrist, glinting in the purple light. He wore all black – including a neatly pressed shirt that Felix was sure cost more than an entire month’s salary, as well as clean black pants. He had his legs crossed at the knee, giving him an air of casual relaxation despite his formidable presence. He blinked slowly once, almost catlike.

“Chan.”

Felix had to swallow the noise that threatened to slip from his mouth when Minho spoke. Despite his soft tone, Felix felt the rumble of his voice in his chest. Hair on the back of his neck and arms rose, and he heard his father’s voice in his ears. “Stay away, boy. Two is a party, but three is a crowd.”

Minho rose, circling around the table. Felix took a nervous step backwards, his heart skipping a beat.

Chan glanced back at him, smiling softly. “You okay?” He whispered.

Felix looked at him, struggling to push the anxiety that was rolling in his guts down. “Yeah,” he whispered. His father’s voice still echoed in his mind, an eerie reminder of just how fitting that warning was. Chan wrapped an arm firmly around his waist however, and the touch seemed to ground him, even as his heart sped up once more when Minho came to a stop in front of them. He met Felix’s gaze again. “Felix.”

Felix swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping his shaking wasn’t visible. “H—” He froze, his throat drying immediately.

Minho’s smile softened, as did his gaze. “You don’t need to be nervous with me,” he said in that soft, silken voice. He reached up, setting his hand on Felix’s shoulder. The grip was firm but not forceful, and a comfortable warmth spread through Felix from their point of contact. He relaxed a little, nodding.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I—I’m a bit intimidated.”

“You don’t need to be that either,” Minho assured him. “Why don’t you come sit down. Chan told me what types of food and drink you liked, so I got a selection. Please, help yourself while we talk.”

Minho stepped aside and removed his hand from Felix’s shoulder. He gestured with the wine glass for them to enter. Chan pushed Felix forward gently. He stumbled into the alcove, catching himself before he fell.

Minho tsked, and Felix glanced back in time to see him swat Chan lightly on the shoulder. “He’s not a child, Bang Chan, he can walk.”

“Sorry,” Chan mumbled, and Felix couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m okay,” he promised. He sat down slowly on the bench, surprised at the gentle plush of it. Minho circled back around and sat next to him, a respectful few inches between them. Chan followed Minho, sitting behind him. He poured himself a glass of wine and sipped it.

“Do you want me to pour you one?” He offered.

“Uh—Sure.”

Minho set his own glass down. “Felix. Relax, I promise, I won’t hurt you, you’re safe here.”

“I know. Chan has said a lot about you – um… All good. I know you won’t.” He took the glass from Chan and nodded in thanks.

“Let’s eat some first,” Minho suggested, motioning to the table. “It always relaxes me, eating with people. We won’t have any pressure to talk right away.” He touched Felix’s shoulder again. “But I do want to say, you look amazing tonight. Chan said you were a handsome man… His description didn’t do you justice.”

Felix smiled shyly, his cheeks warming up at the compliment. “He didn’t really tell me what you looked like. I didn’t know what to expect. There’s not much information about the owners of this club, so…”

“By design,” Minho said. He handed Felix a plate and passed one back to Chan.

“Why?” Felix rose, adding various small sandwiches and fruits to his plate, many of which he’d never seen before.

“This is supposed to be a haven. A place for the unloved, unwanted, unsafe to come and be themselves. Which means a lot of the people down there, dancing, feeling free and happy…” He motioned to the floor below and smiled. “A lot of them aren’t safe anywhere else in this city. And there are a lot of people that would hurt them. If they knew. We keep our identities secret to help them. Nobody can come after the owners if they don’t know the owners. Our bouncer, you met him – he’s the other owner’s boyfriend. Most of the workers are the unwanted themselves, finally able to work in an environment that lets them just be.”

The back of Felix’s nose burned as Minho explained. He blinked a few times, willing away the wetness that threatened to blur his vision; crying in front of his man would likely not make a very good impression.

“That’s amazing,” he finally whispered.

“It’s the least I can do. These are the people that make me feel safe, and I want to return that favor.” He set his hand on Chan’s thigh and squeezed. Their gaze met and Chan smiled softly.

“Chan said you two have been together a long time.”

“We have,” Minho nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were little… Chan was my first kiss.”

Felix’s eyes widened. He froze, a small strip of melon centimeters from his parted lips.

“Don’t look so surprised… Chan didn’t tell you?” Minho asked, his smile wavering.

Felix shook his head, a new wave of anxiety threatening to steal his appetite. He placed the melon back down onto the plate.

“He never mentioned that.”

“Chan,” Minho scolded.

Chan lowered his gaze, looking chided. “I didn’t think to,” he mumbled.

“Well now Felix is probably insecure about things,” Minho said. He turned to face Felix fully. Gently, he took the plate from his hands and set it on the table, grasping both of Felix’s hands in his own.

“Hey,” he whispered. Felix looked up, his face warm with embarrassment. Minho smiled, his expression soothing. He spoke in a soft tone, just loud enough for Felix to hear when he listened close.

“I’m gonna tell you a secret, okay?”

Felix nodded.

“I love Chan. With everything I have. And he loves me. But he loves you too, Felix. He’s told me as much. And I hope you and I… Maybe with a little time… Maybe we can form that sort of bond too. Or maybe we don’t, and we just become really good friends, connected through our love for him. Just because he’s known me longer doesn’t mean at all that he loves you or me more or less. You love him, don’t you?”

Felix nodded. Minho’s smile appeared wider again. He nodded as well. “I thought so. He’s great. Please don’t be scared of me or him, or us – the three of us – or just us two – because he and I grew up together, okay?”

“I’ll try not to,” Felix whispered.

“Good. Can I tell you another secret?”

Felix nodded once more.

Minho leaned closer, his lips brushing Felix’s ear for a brief moment. The touch sent sparks down Felix’s spine and he gripped Minho’s hands a little tighter by instinct.

“You really are the most beautiful man I’ve seen in a very long time. Chan told me earlier in your relationship that you were exactly my type… I’m ashamed I waited so long to learn that was true…” He brushed Felix’s ear with his mouth again. “I hope very much to learn more about you tonight. And I hope that sometime soon… I might get to taste those beautiful lips of yours… With your permission, of course.”

Minho leaned back and Felix nearly fell forward, his lips parting in surprise. Minho smiled, meeting his gaze with an intense expression. “Are we good?”

“Better than good,” Felix whispered, willing his heart to stop beating against its cage. It took him a few seconds longer to realize he was still gripping Minho’s hands tightly. He unclenched immediately, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Minho grabbed his plate and passed it back to him. “Eat, please.”

“So, tell me more about yourself. Considering Chan forgot to tell you massive parts of our history, I’m guessing he left some good stuff about you out too.”

Felix laughed softly. Minho sat back, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders. Chan leaned into him immediately, smiling softly at Felix.

He hesitated, taking a bite of fruit to cover his silence while he tried to consider a good answer. Everything he thought of saying sounded silly, or weak, or childish, and despite Minho’s comforting words earlier, he really did want to make a good impression.

Seeming to sense Felix’s discomfort, Chan jumped in, mentioning how kind his mother had been that past weekend. Felix relaxed, smiling gratefully at Chan.

The conversation flowed with Chan’s help, and soon Felix realized that Minho wasn’t so difficult to talk to. He found himself laughing more, relaxing into Minho’s gentle touches, and maintaining Minho’s intense eye contact without immediately wanting to look away.

After all three had eaten their fill, Minho set his hands on both their thighs. “Do you want to dance?” He asked, looking at Felix.

“I—If you want to?” Felix glanced at Chan, who smirked and shrugged. He nodded again and looked at Minho. “Yeah.”

Minho grinned and rose, taking Felix’s hand. He guided him back around the table and out of the alcove.

 The trio made their way down the stairs to the dance floor, finding a spot big enough for them to move comfortably. Felix found himself facing Minho, their bodies close together. Minho’s hands rested on his hips, swaying to the music. The lights were strobing gently to the bass, casting a variety of shadows over their faces. Chan’s lips brushed over his neck as his body pressed against Felix’s back, his hands settling a little under Minho’s.

The three danced close, lost in their own world as the patrons moved around them. The air thickened, and Felix could almost taste the tension in the air. His gaze was locked with Minho’s, looking away not an option at this point. Chan was whispering in his ear, but he wasn’t able to process the words; he wasn’t entirely sure they were in any language he knew.

The music changed to something heavier and faster, and Minho pulled Felix closer. Chan followed, pinning Felix’s body between theirs. Minho broke eye contact to kiss Chan over Felix’s shoulder. Felix bit his own lip. It wasn’t jealousy he felt so much as arousal, and desperation to have a turn, to be shared. Which was good, he supposed; jealousy was the last emotion he wanted to feel if he wanted this to work out.

When they separated, he turned between them to face Chan before kissing him hard. Minho chuckled against his ear. Felix gasped against Chan’s lips when Minho pressed against him, his hardness against his ass.

They danced like that through another song, Felix breaking the kiss to lean his head back on Minho’s shoulder. They caged Felix with their arms and bodies, a firm hold that he had no intention of breaking unless he had to. His head was spinning despite not having much to drink, their lips kissing his cheeks and neck, nipping his ears as they panted under the lights.

It was Minho the ultimately broke the connection, pulling his head away when Felix leaned forward to kiss his mouth for the first time. “We should talk first,” he panted.

Felix pouted softly, his heart sinking a little at being turned down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push too far…”

“No.” Minho smiled, stroking his thumb over Felix’s cheek. “I want to kiss you too, don’t take it the wrong way. I just want to talk to you about something first, before we move forward like that.”

Felix nodded. He glanced at Chan, who looked relaxed despite the intensity of their actions just a few minutes prior. He winked at Felix, offering the smile that always weakened his knees. Felix smiled helplessly, relaxing a little.

“Why don’t we go up to my apartment instead,” Minho offered as they reached the stairway. “A little quieter.”

Felix raised his brows, surprise pinching his mouth into a little o-shape. Minho laughed.

“Nothing funny, I promise. My apartment is in the building, just up a few floors. You’re safe there.”

“I know,” Felix smiled, trying to erase the surprise from his face. “I just didn’t expect to see your apartment the first night we met.”

Minho smirked. “You’re lucky – I don’t ever invite random boys up to my place… No matter how cute they are.” He winked and turned. Felix’s stomach exploded with butterflies. He bit his lip, barely stifling the giggle that threatened to bubble up at the compliment. Chan chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Told you he’d adore you, baby,” he whispered.

Felix looked at him, his smile returning full force. “He’s amazing,” he whispered. Chan nodded. He jutted his chin forward, motioning for Felix to follow Minho around to a doorway beside the bar. Behind it was an elevator, which the three stepped into silently.

They rode it upward, each standing a safe distance from one another. It stopped and opened to a simple foyer.

“Wait the whole floor?” Felix squeaked.

“Yeah. We have most of the building,” Minho said, stepping into the space and removing his shoes. “Make yourself comfortable.” He opened the door, and Felix peeked in, gasping.

The space was huge and open, with rich gold and black tones giving the space a luxurious feeling. There was a bar to one side, packed nearly as full as the one downstairs, and a couch that Felix knew he’d never want to get up from. A glass door to the far side revealed a beautiful view of the city’s skyline and large balcony. The opening of a hallway was near the glass door, likely the other rooms. He followed Chan and Minho in after removing his shoes, heading to the bar where they stood.

“Chan, would you?” Minho asked. “I’m going to change. Do you want a more comfortable shirt, Felix?”

“No, I’m okay,” Felix said, smiling shyly.

Minho nodded. He disappeared down the hall and Felix turned to Chan.

“Seriously?”

Chan ducked behind the bar, raising his brows. “What?”

“Why the hell are you dating me?”

Chan grabbed three glasses and lined them up, rolling up the sleeves of his own shirt. “I don’t follow, Lix.” He said, plunking ice cubes into them. He turned to grab bottles, casually spinning one before pouring the amber liquid into the glasses.

“You have a man here, who you knew since childhood, who owns one of the biggest clubs in our city. And he’s dating you! And he’s hot,” Felix hissed.

Chan chuckled. “Yeah? And?”

“What the hell are you doing slumming it around with me? What the hell do I have to compare to that?”

Chan’s smile faded. He hesitated for a moment, brows furrowing. He placed the bottle back and grabbed a second, pouring it into two of the glasses. He slid one over to Felix after mixing it quickly with a straw.

“Felix, you aren’t… Slumming it.”

He went around the bar and grabbed the other drinks, heading over to the couch. He set them onto a couple of coasters and tossed a third onto the coffee table for Felix’s drink.

“Compared—”

“I don’t compare you two,” Chan said, cutting him off with a sharp tone. “You two are equal to me, Felix. Whether he’s rich or poor or you have an amazing job or a crappy one – he’s my boyfriend. You’re my boyfriend. I didn’t bring you to meet him so you’d feel badly about yourself.”

Felix sighed, feeling a little guilty for bringing it up so harshly. He stepped over to the sliding glass door, looking out over the city as he sipped his drink.

Chan wrapped his arms around Felix’s middle. He rested his chin on his shoulder, rocking them gently.

“Lixie,” he whispered. “Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re upset. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how long Minho and I have known each other. I didn’t think it’d matter.”

“I’m not…” Felix sighed. “I am. But not at you or him.”

“Then what.”

“Myself.” Chan’s mouth turned to a frown against Felix’s shoulder.

“Explain.”

“I feel guilty.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Liking him? Liking you? Wanting to stay with you when you have someone like him? Feeling guilty. I—”

“Felix.” Chan stepped back and turned Felix around. He grabbed his drink and placed it on the coffee table, returning before Felix could move.

“Felix.” He said again, firmly. He grabbed Felix’s shoulders, squeezing them before sliding his hands down his arms. “I know we don’t say it much… But I love you, Felix. I have for a long time. And I love Minho too, but that doesn’t mean my love for you is less. Do you know how happy I would be if all three of us could be together? If you could feel the way Minho loves me? You deserve that too. We all do. Please don’t feel guilty for wanting that, or for loving me, or falling for him. That’s why tonight is happening.”

Felix smiled a little as Chan spoke, lowering his gaze to the floor. Chan stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Promise you won’t feel guilty over this.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. Talk to me okay? To us both.”

Felix nodded.

“Are we good?” Minho’s voice came from behind them. Felix looked up, surprised at the change. Though Minho was still gorgeous, he’d changed into a pair of sweats and a plain black t-shirt, making him look far more natural and human than his dressy attire.

“We’re good,” Chan said.

Minho nodded. He tossed a shirt to Chan, who glanced at Felix to confirm that it was okay before stepping down the hall to change.

“Come sit with me.” Minho said. He went to the couch, patting it.

Felix sat down, grabbing his own drink. He ran his thumb through the condensation, spinning the thin straw with his forefinger.

“I need to discuss something important with you, Felix. And I’m afraid it may change how you feel about me. But that’s exactly why we need to talk about it before we get into any sort of relationship. Whether it’s a close friendship or a sexual one or… More romantic.” He smiled softly when Felix looked up.

“What?” Felix chuckled. “Are you a serial killer or something?”

Minho laughed. “Nothing quite so drastic.” He sighed, his smile softening. He sipped his drink. “Your father is a pastor.”

“Yeah.”

“So you grew up in a church, right?”

Felix nodded, confused by the sudden change in the line of questioning.

“So, you know the bible, right? Pretty well.”

“Yes… Somewhat. I haven’t read it in a long time. I’m not a believer.”

“Chan mentioned that. Um… You know the story of Lucifer and God and the final judgement, all that stuff.”

“Yeah…” Felix drifted off, an uneasy feeling creeping into his guts. Was Minho some sort of religious fanatic? Surely Chan wouldn’t be with someone like that…

Chan cleared his throat as he emerged from the hallway, now wearing one of his own t-shirts. He settled into a soft leather recliner across from the two on the couch.

“Chan—”

“Just listen,” Chan said softly, offering what Felix was sure was meant to be a comforting smile. Unfortunately, it only increased his anxiety. His father’s words echoed in his mind again, the unease clenching his stomach in a bear trap. Three. He gasped at the connection, sliding back a bit from Minho.

“Wait—”

“Felix?”

Felix swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment. He struggled to regain control of the panic coursing through his veins. This was ridiculous. His father was a crazy old man; there was no way he could have known. He didn’t believe that stupid shit anyways. Minho was probably just making small talk, or maybe he was interested in theology – Felix just needed to hear him out. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, smiling.

“Sorry, um… Weird thought. My dad, says some crazy shit sometimes.”

Minho smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Chan mentioned… Something about prophecies?”

Felix snorted. “I wouldn’t call them that. More like… Stupid parables. His parishioners eat it up.”

“And he said one that you remembered just now?”

“Yeah, actually.” Felix chuckled. “Probably because he brought it up again when Chan and I went to visit this past weekend.”

“What was it?”

“Uh… Two’s a party, but three’s a crowd. And how if I ran into a situation with three, I should leave, because it wasn’t safe.”

Minho chuckled. “Normally sound advice. There are three of us, so… Perhaps he wasn’t so crazy.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in any danger.” Felix hesitated. Minho smiled.

“Of course not. The opposite, actually. But even so… Your father wasn’t… Wrong.”

Felix glanced at Chan, who was looking suspiciously guilty. His gaze was diverted downward, very interested in an invisible spot on his pants. “W… What’s going on?”

“Your father has a gift, Felix. And he knew very explicitly how important of a person you are. We haven’t been wholly honest with you. Demons exist, Felix. And you’re in a room with two of them, right now.”

Felix paused, his mouth parted in confusion. He laughed once, then again harder, shaking his head as a grin spread across his face. “You guys,” he said. When he realized he was the only one laughing, he stopped, the sound hanging awkwardly in the silent air. Both Chan and Minho were looking at him, their expressions stoic. His smile faded. “You guys aren’t serious.”

“Deathly,” Minho said.

“This is crazy.” Felix chuckled without humor. “You’re crazy. Or on drugs, or something. Demons aren’t real.”

“They are, Lix…” Chan said softly. “Your dad was right about me, he sensed it.”

“You’re not a demon!” Felix cried, shooting up from the couch. “This isn’t funny, Chan!”

Minho rose, holding his hands up. “Felix, I promise, we’ll explain everything. Just… Please take a breath.”

Felix smacked Minho’s hands away, taking a step back. “You’re both insane.”

“No. I can prove it,” Minho said.

“Min—”

“He deserves to know, Chan.”

Chan sighed.

“Prove what? That you’re the devil?” Felix asked, his voice strained. He put his fists to his temples. “This is nuts.”

“I’m not the devil,” Minho said softly, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. “He’s my father, but.”

Felix forced out a laugh, his mouth remaining open. He genuinely didn’t know what to do in this situation. It was obvious that Minho – and Chan as well – were delusional, if they really believed this. If they were pranking him – it was much too far.

Minho waved his hand, plucking a large black card seemingly from the air. Felix blinked in surprise, then scowled, realizing it was a devil tarot card. “Funny. Good magic trick. I can pull shit from my sleeves as well, Minho.”

“I’m wearing short sleeves,” Minho said.

Felix’s frown deepened. “So you’re a talented magician. Doesn’t mean you’re a demon. Demon’s don’t exist.”

Minho chuckled. “You are a stubborn one.”

“It’s one of his best traits,” Chan said. Felix glared at him, in no mood for humor.

“Fine,” Minho shrugged. “You wanted proof.”

He slipped his hands into his sweatpants, taking on a relaxed posture. Felix opened his mouth to speak when the air began to shimmer around Minho. He took a step back, blinking quickly to try and focus. Minho was still there, but it was if someone had put a gauzy filter in front of him. His body shifted and twisted in front of Felix before suddenly snapping into terrifying clarity.

Felix gasped, stumbling backwards and landing hard on his ass. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth where he bit his tongue, too stunned to feel the pain.

Minho still stood in front of him, the same relaxed posture he’d had only moments ago. But now his eyes, instead of their piercing dark brown irises, were entirely black, shining in the glow of the lights. Erupting from the sides of his forehead were two black, blunted horns, only about three inches long. He tiled his head and their color shifted, an iridescent oil slick. The most startling thing about him, however, were the large wings that connected to his back. They were full of soft, plush looking black feathers, matching the same iridescence of his horns.

Chan jumped up, hurrying over to Felix to try and help him up.

Felix smacked him away, gaping at Minho as he struggled to process what he was seeing.

“You’re bleeding,” Chan whispered, concern raising his voice a few octaves. He tried once more to grab Felix.

Felix shoved him harder, scrambling to his feet and backing away from them both. “What the fuck?” He spat. The air felt thin, and even gasping in lungfuls he couldn’t seem to gather enough oxygen to keep his head from swimming.

“Who, Felix—” Chan said. He rose, keeping a safe distance, but Felix still shied away, afraid Chan was going to change into a monster in front of his eyes next. He looked around wildly, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. Everywhere he looked things seemed slightly off kilter, the wrong shape, color, look.

“He’s going to pass out,” Minho said quickly. Felix looked back at him, ready to argue the point. His vision greyed at the edges. He struggled to inhale, reaching for anything to brace himself. He grabbed Chan’s wrist as it came into reach, the floor rushing up to meet him as his legs gave out and the world cut to black.

When Felix opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at a familiar white ceiling. He scowled as the world came into focus. He looked around his bedroom, trying desperately to fill in the gaps in his memory. He’d been at the club, then in Minho’s loft, then Minho… changed.

A cold fear chilled Felix to the bone. He sat up quickly, grabbing his blanket to his chest.

“It’s okay,” Chan’s voice came from the left. Felix shouted in surprise, moving away from the sound.

Chan stood in the doorway, his hands raised in front of him.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re at home.”

“Is he here?”

“No, just me. I brought you home.”

Felix grimaced. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“How—”

“Demon.” Chan shrugged, looking down guiltily.

“What the fuck is going on, Chan?”

“I know this seems like a lot.”

“A lot?” Felix hissed. “This seems like it’s insane. What do you even want with me? Why tell me what you are?”

“Because, you’re… Special.” Chan leaned against the doorframe. “There’s a prophecy, sort of. Down in hell. It talks about you.”

Felix snorted. “Oh what, Lee Felix is gonna rule the world or something?”

Chan smiled weakly, curling up one corner of his mouth. “Sort of, actually. They say that your offspring are going to be a huge influence during the end of days. And your choice – heaven or hell – is going to be the deciding factor on who’s side they end up helping.”

“My offspring?”

Chan shrugged. “I know, the wording is weird, but it’s applicable.”

“So, what?” Felix shook his head, his face twisting up in hurt as he put it together. “You just seduced me to what, corrupt me so my offspring can help you end the world? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And even if it were true and I was some special person –” His chin quivered. He looked away, forcing his emotions back as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You just thought I’d be fine with you using me?”

“It wasn’t like that, Lix,” Chan whispered.

“Oh really? Because from where I sit, that’s exactly what it is!” Felix snapped his head back toward Chan, his vision blurring.

Chan winced visibly. “No…” His voice was weak. “I didn’t know who you were when we met.”

“Bullshit, you just said you were a demon who can flit me across the city in a heartbeat. You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes.” Chan squatted, putting his elbows on his knees. He folded his hands in front of him, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “I’m only half demon. I’m not near as powerful as Minho. I prefer earth, honestly. So does he. Which is why we’re here. We were being honest – we grew up together. Our fathers are close. We came to earth to live, because we liked it. We weren’t planning on anything special. When I met you, I fell for you, Felix. I didn’t realize you were the one the prophecy was talking about until much later. Much later, long after I’d fallen for you. That’s why I’ve been so hesitant to tell you. Because I do love you, Felix. And I didn’t want to ruin what we’d created.”

“And Minho?”

“He wanted to get to know you. Because he’s heard me talk about you. And how happy you make me. The prophecy was a part of it, but not why he wanted to meet you. The prophecy is why he told you what we are. Because we knew it wasn’t fair to you. Because if you made that choice to be with us, it would seal the fate of those offspring. And doing that to you without you knowing… That’s not who we are, or who we want to be.”

“You’re demons.”

“You’re right. But demons aren’t what you were raised to believe.” Chan sighed, looking down. He rose. “This is a lot to take in, Felix. I know it is. I’m not going to keep pushing you.”

When Felix remained silent, Chan continued. “I’m around, always, so is Minho. I’m going to leave you alone, because ultimately this is your decision. Just know if you have any questions or when you… Decide… We’ll be a text or call away.”

Felix’s heart squeezed tightly at Chan’s words. Despite his anger, the thought of Chan leaving, especially now, when he was so scared, was agony. But Chan was right; this was a lot and he still wasn’t sure he even believed him, this entire night could easily be explained away with a strong helping of drugs in his drink. He looked away, hugging his knees to his chest.

Chan hesitated a moment longer before leaving, the door shutting sounding like a gunshot in the quiet apartment.

Felix let his wall shatter, tears slipping down his cheeks. He was overwhelmed, hurt, scared, and confused. Though Chan had said he’d need to think it through, decide – Felix wanted to do nothing of the sort. He wished he could erase the entire night from his memory, along with Chan.

That vicious thought tore another piece from Felix’s heart. He’d never wish that – he knew it. He was in love with Chan, even with this new revelation. He curled up under his blanket, throwing it over his head as he hugged pillows that smelled far too much like the man he was trying not to think about.

 The next morning was no easier. Though they hadn’t broken up, it felt like one to Felix, with perfect Chan shaped spaces everywhere he looked. He refused to consider calling him though, not this soon. The morning light had brought a bit of clarity to the night’s events, and Felix knew he needed to consider his next actions. More importantly, he needed to learn.

The days turned into weeks, and then a month, and then two. True to his word, neither Minho nor Chan reached out to Felix, despite his absolute silence. He went to work, went home, read through whichever religious text he’d borrowed from the library or snagged from bookstores, trying desperately to figure out what exactly he’d seen that night.

By month three, he was confident that it most definitely was not a dream or bad trip. A drawing from an obscure demonology text confirmed this; Lucifer, in all his winged glory, beautiful and charming… And wearing a face that was eerily similar to the one the owner of the Lyon’s Den had. Not exact; but Minho had mentioned he was Lucifer’s son. Felix could find no mention of children of Lucifer – not in the literal sense; only that demons were his spawn, but that didn’t mean one didn’t exist.

Felix learned more about Cambions; what Chan was – half demon, half human beings. He also learned about arguments against Heaven and God; thoughts that it wasn’t Lucifer that was the ultimate Evil, but the victim in a cruel game of supernatural telephone. He wondered what his father would say about this theory. Laugh, probably – or curse him for blaspheming. He considered calling his father, asking questions, but if his father had known what Chan was… Any questions could reveal that he’d done exactly what he was warned against; fell into the trap of three.

 It wasn’t until five months had passed that Felix picked up his phone and scrolled to Chan’s name. Five months since he’d seen him, or heard his voice… Felix wondered if Chan would even want to speak to him. Surely he hadn’t meant for him to take this long in deciding. And ultimately – Felix hadn’t decided. He’d read as much as he could find, and still he had more questions. Still he was terrified of the knowledge that this man, the one he still loved so deeply, wasn’t human.

His finger hesitated above the call button before he backed out of it and scrolled again, spotting Minho’s name. He hadn’t entered it in his phone, but he’d found it a few days after that night; Chan must have entered it. If he had questions, the most logical person to give an answer was Minho. Steeling himself, he pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear.

Minho picked up on the third ring. “Felix?” His voice was bright and – if Felix was hearing correctly – hopeful.

“It’s me.”

Minho sighed. “Oh, Felix. Have you been well?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“Unfortunately that isn’t one of my powers.” Minho paused. “You’ve made up your mind then?”

“No. I have questions. I… I’ve been doing research, reading, but there’s so many gaps. I need answers.”

“I’ll give you as many as I can provide.”

“If…” Felix drifted off, reaching out and tracing the embossed cross on the front of a Bible on his table. “If I agree to meet with you… Will I be safe? How can I be sure I’ll be safe?”

“You’ll be safe. That prophecy… The one involving you. It’s a choice made of your own free will. Either by ignorance to what you’re doing, or by choosing. If I hurt you, or forced you in some way… That would defeat the purpose. But what’s more important, we care for you, Felix. I want to help you understand as much as you can, because I believe you deserve to know the truth and to make your choice based on that truth, no matter what it is.”

“Chan is… Is he good?”

Minho paused for long span before speaking. “He’s okay.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m stretching the truth. Would telling you he’s struggling ease your guilt at all? Make your final decision easier, or entirely yours? He’s struggling, Felix. He loves you. But he is okay, and he will be okay, no matter what you choose.”

“Okay.” Felix sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll meet you. Not… Not him, not yet.”

“I understand. I won’t keep the meeting from him, however. I love him too, and that’s wrong.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to,” Felix said. “That’s not fair. Just… Let him know I’m not ready yet.”

“He’ll understand. Would you like to come by the club? It’s closed this time of day, so only my basic security and cleaning staff are here. We’ll have privacy without you being all alone with me, in case you feel uncomfortable.”

“Okay. I can be there in an hour.”

“That’s fine. I’ll let my guard know to let you in. Come up to the booth we were in the night we met?”

“Fine.” Felix hung up, holding his phone between his hands in a prayer position. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he tried to steady his nerves. Before he had a chance to second guess himself, he rose and headed to his room, changing into clean jeans and a shirt. He paused in the mirror, grimacing at his haggard reflection. He hadn’t been sleeping much, or eating well at all, and it was showing. He ran a brush through his hair, wishing he’d given himself enough time for a shower. He pulled on a baseball cap and his jacket, hoping he wouldn’t look too terrible as he headed out to catch a bus to the Lyon’s Den.

 The club had a wholly different feeling when Felix walked in. The lights were up, bright white ones that revealed exactly what the club was; a repurposed warehouse. A handful of people were working through the floor, mopping and washing tables, a few at the bar, the clinking of bottles as they refilled and restocked the supplies. Felix headed up the stairs, noting the alcoves – save for Minho’s, had been stripped of their curtains, giving the upstairs a skeletal look. Minho stepped from the alcove as Felix approached. Even in casual clothes, he was breathtakingly handsome. Felix glanced over his shoulder, remembering the large black wings there the last time he’d seen him.

“Would you rather sit in the open?” Minho asked softly.

“No, it’s fine.” Felix said. “I don’t think you want others to overhear this conversation.”

Minho nodded once. He held the curtain open, allowing Felix to slide in. He sat on one end of the bench this time, and Minho took the other side, the table between them.

“I know you’re wanting questions answered, and I am happy to do so, but I am a host. So first, would you like something to drink? Eat?”

Felix shook his head, but the growling of his stomach gave him away. His cheeks warmed. He cleared his throat, looking down.

“Well, I’m a bit hungry,” Minho said after a moment. He rose and stuck his head out of the alcove. He motioned over one of the workers and spoke softly to them, too soft for Felix to hear with his head outside of the heavy curtain.

Minho leaned back in and sat down, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “You probably don’t want to make small talk.”

“Not really,” Felix admitted.

“I understand. No pressure. I will answer your questions, if I can.”

“You’re a demon,” Felix said bluntly, mentally kicking himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“I am.”

“You said… That night… That you were Lucifer’s son. But I couldn’t find any reference to him having a child. Do you mean like… All demons are? Or?”

“No. Nobody really knows about me. Any humans that have seen me in my true form assume I’m just another fallen, from the original rebellion, but it’s not the case.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“But… You’re a demon.”

“You know dog years? Cat years. How we say our animals are forty, but really they’ve only been alive for nine or ten years?”

Felix nodded.

“It’s like that. Only hell is… An actual passage of that time. So, hundred years in hell is only a few months here. On earth, I was born in 1998. Chan was born in 1997, just like we told you. But it’s not 2023 in hell right now. Thousands more years have passed, there’s no sense of time.”

“So, how old are you in… Hell years?”

“No idea.” Minho chuckled. “Still too young to be taken seriously by my father.”

“I don’t think there’s an age where you outgrow that.”

Minho grinned at Felix’s joke and Felix, despite his best efforts, found himself smiling in return.

“So… He’s really your dad. Who’s your mom?”

“I don’t have one. I was created from him. The closest human comparison would be asexual reproduction.”

“Demons can do that?”

“Angels can. Remember Lucifer isn’t a demon. He’s an angel that fell. Which is why I have wings, but Chan and the other demons don’t.”

Felix nodded. “So is Chan… I’ve met his father. Is that… Was he a demon?”

“No, you met his human father. His demon father is in Hell.”

“Two dads?”

Minho shrugged. “Transgender individuals exist everywhere. Heaven, hell, and all the space in between, it’s a natural thing.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. “That’s cool to know… Kinda confirms it’s not bad like some people think.”

“Most of what humans think is sinful isn’t. But who will they listen to?”

Felix sighed then, his smile fading. “Chan and you said I was special. My offspring will influence the something… I don’t understand.”

“This is where my explaining will get a bit grey. Not because I’m hiding it, but because I don’t fully understand either. All I know is that you match every interpretation of the prophecy. Your offspring, your kids or grandkids – nobody knows – but you’ll have a child who may have other children, and at some point, there will be a battle. Heaven and Hell, just like it’s said in Revelations. But the battle isn’t guaranteed to have Heaven win. That’s just His PR team. The true end of the book is unwritten. But you will be the deciding factor.”

“What’s so special about me?”

“I wish I knew. Nobody does. The prophecy isn’t clear about why you matter.”

“How do you know it’s me?”

Minho hesitated. He sighed softly. “There’s something I didn’t tell Chan… I haven’t told anyone. But… When we started to think that you might be the one, I told my father. And he showed me a sketch. It was done by a prophet, hundreds of thousands of years ago. Felix, it’s you. Perfect. Down to the arrangement of your freckles.”

A cold chill settled in Felix’s bowels. He swallowed hard, blinking quickly.

“Breathe,” Minho said softly, and Felix drew in a quick breath.

“Can I see it?”

“No.” Minho paused then. “Well. Yes, you technically could. But you’d need to travel with me to my home.”

“Where’s that?”

“In Hell, Felix.”

Felix sat back, his eyes widening. “Wh—But I’m alive.”

“And you can travel between the worlds, as long as you have the right guide.” He pointed to himself. “I can take you there, show you around, and bring you back to this same spot in time. I don’t think you’re ready for that yet though, personally… I don’t think I’m ready to introduce you to my father yet. He can be intense.”

Felix nodded. He knew there was a very big chance Minho was lying, but he believed him for some reason. A feeling deep in his bones told him that Minho was being wholly honest at this moment – more honest than his father had ever been.

He looked back up at Minho. “What happens if hell wins?”

“Do you want the truth about that, Felix?”

Felix frowned, taken aback by the question. “Yes… Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you aren’t going to like the answer.”

“Well, even more reason for me to know the truth, right?”

“Fair enough. What happens if the hell wins? Humans become free.”

“What?”

“You’ve been lied to, Felix. My father isn’t the evil one. He didn’t make the right choice, rebelling, but he was doing it to save humanity, not destroy it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Minho remained silent a moment. He glanced at the curtain, and a few seconds later it flipped back, revealing one of the employees. She smiled shyly. “Your food?”

“Of course, go ahead,” Minho said in a gentle, kind tone.

She nodded and stepped in to open the curtain with her body as she dragged a small cart forward. On it were a variety of sides and dishes. She spread it on the table efficiently, offering a soft smile in Felix’s direction. He smiled back, nodding in thanks despite having said he wouldn’t eat. His stomach grumbled at the delicious smelling food.

She set a glass in front of Felix and poured a bit of wine into it before doing the same for Minho. After she left, Minho raised his glass, angling it toward Felix in a salutation. He took a sip and leaned back, sighing.

Felix bit his lip, glancing at the food. “I know I said I wasn’t…”

“Please,” Minho smiled. It was a gentle one, genuine and charming. He motioned to the spread. “Please, help yourself. Just because we’re having a tense discussion doesn’t mean we can’t be civil.”

Felix nodded. He took a small plate and began to eat, struggling not to rush. It was absolutely delicious, and highlighted just how badly he’d been eating for the past few months. Minho waited patiently, picking at a bit of food here and there. Despite the stretching silence, Felix felt a calmness between them. Surprising, given what Minho was – but there was just something… Easy about him.

When he’d gotten enough food in him to calm the raging hunger, Felix sat back, smiling gratefully. “You said your father…”

Minho nodded. “Yes.” He refilled their wine glasses. “You know the story of the rebellion, and the angels that sided with Lucifer and how they fell.”

“Of course.”

“And what did your father tell you was the reason he rebelled?”

“He refused to bow to humanity and to God, and he wanted to be God’s equal.”

Minho nodded. “These are half-truths. It is true he rebelled, and he fell. He did refuse to bow to God and man, but not because he wanted to be God’s equal.”

“Then why?”

“Because he knew what God had planned for mankind. He knew you were all some experiment. The whim of a bored deity who’d already collared the others that could oppose him.”

“Others?”

“Oh, you’ve heard their stories. Zeus, Venus, Anubis, Thor, Hecate, the list goes on.”

“They existed?”

“Once, long ago. He weakened them using tricks and manipulation, and forced them into servitude so that he could put his followers to the test. See if they could wipe them out fully just by spreading his power. Humans are not loved by God. They’re his pets. Heaven isn’t some amazing garden, it’s a temple to worship him. And the moment you deny him his worship,” Minho snapped. “You find yourself thrust into my father’s realm.”

Felix was ashamed at the instant irritation that rose within him. He wanted to argue, spout bible verses and the things he was taught by his father. It was so ingrained in him that even as a nonbeliever, he wanted to defend it. But the truth was…

“I know it sounds crazy,” Minho said.

“It does.” Felix sat back, playing with his hands in his lap. “It sounds absolutely insane. But so do bible stories, to me. I’ve always sat in my father’s church and wondered who came up with these stupid fairy tales to scare kids into behaving. Both of these sides sound just as unbelievable as the other one.”

“I understand.”

“But you’re a demon. I saw you with my own eyes – wings and horns and those eyes…” He swallowed hard. “You’ve shown me proof that I can’t deny. And what you’re telling me, it could all be a lie… But it might not be.” He put his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. “This is all so confusing.”

“I know it is, Felix. I’m sorry. I wish I could make it easier for you to understand.”

“So Lucifer… Wants to free humans from God’s what… Servitude?”

“Yes.”

“And then what? He’d become the new god?”

“No.” Minho chuckled. “My father wants nothing to do with Godhood. I don’t know his exact plans, but he’s talked about reinstating the deities, as equals. To help humans, guide them correctly if they want it, but not force them. He’d maintain hell – he and the other underworld deities have it really nicely set up down there… And I’m sure he’d maintain heaven in a way, but as a paradise that it’s supposed to be. But humans wouldn’t be forced up or down based on their servitude to any one god. It would be based on their humanity, and how much good they did in the world. Not under the name of Christ or whoever – but just… Because they’re good people.”

“That sounds like heaven,” Felix admitted. “It sounds like what people say religion is supposed to be.”

“It is. But it’s been warped. And a big reason for that warping is the power trip that he’s on.” He tilted his head up to imply who he was talking about.

“And I’m… What? Supposed to influence that?”

“It’s grey,” Minho said. “We don’t know exactly what your offspring will do. And we don’t even really know what it means. We just know that both sides – angel and demon – will be wanting you to choose their side, because that’s supposed to bring about the winning hand, pretty much.”

“What if I chose neither?”

“Then the playing field would be fair, I suppose. Or they’d keep trying with other members of your bloodline.”

“What would I do? If I chose angels or demons? What… Do I sell my soul?”

Minho laughed. “Nothing so draconic. You just… Make the choice. Use your free will to side with one or the other. Love us, choose to be with us. That’s why I wouldn’t let you kiss me that night. And why you needed to know. Because I know you’ve fallen for Chan, and I know there was a big chance you and I would…” He drifted off. “The connection was immediate.”

Felix nodded. “And that wasn’t your powers?”

“No.” Minho shook his head, his face straightening. “Never. Despite the tales of temptation and sin… We never take away free will. The temptations we offer? They’re through honesty. Eve wasn’t tempted in the garden, she was told the truth, and that truth gave her the power to use her free will.”

“What about all the crimes that people say the devil made them do?”

Minho smiled weakly. “Demons and angels both have wings, don’t they?”

“You’re saying angels cause that?”

“I’m saying that God has a plan, and that is not a lie. And that plan involves bloodshed and pain and horror. He is a vengeful creature.”

“And Lucifer isn’t?” Felix asked. The incredulity must have come out in his voice, because Minho smiled.

“He used to be. He’s had a long time to heal and better himself. And being a father helped, he says.”

“I’ve heard it changes a man.”

Minho chuckled and nodded. “He’s joked it’s aged him five hundred millennia. He’ll be entering the final battle not with a dark horse, but with a cane.”

Felix laughed despite himself, the imagery both humorous and sweet. “I’m sure you were a hellion as a kid… Or… Is that rude?”

“No, it’s true. I was a spitfire.”

Felix sipped his wine. “What’s hell like?”

“It’s lovely.”

Felix laughed, but it faded when Minho didn’t. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. There are many underworld deities that share it with my father. Though God considers him to be the ruler, he doesn’t do it like that. Each deity has their own space. A country, sort of, or a state. And each of those spaces deals with different things. There are spaces for the humans that have committed atrocities like mass murders and rapes. There’s spaces for those that were sent to hell for less severe infractions, and spaces for ones that were dropped from Heaven. We all work together down there. There’s farming and community and laughter. It’s a lovely place.”

“What about like… The really bad ones? Like Hitler or those types?”

“Well, they say hell has levels. There is a pit for those ones. Not many are in there. My father wants to heal hell. He believes in rehabilitation for most. There are those that can’t be fixed, and they will spend eternity in the way the bible describes… But for the most part… No. It’s like an intense inpatient therapy in some of the areas, but most of those souls do eventually join the rest of the community.”

“That sounds…” Felix smiled softly. “That sounds really nice. And… Healthy.”

“Never thought you’d describe hell as healthy, eh?”

Felix chuckled. “My dad would be absolutely fuming at this conversation.”

“Oh, I’m entirely sure I would be drenched in holy water.”

“Does that actually hurt you?”

“No, myth. Nor do crosses. Or any of the other silly things Christians say we hate. We’re not so different, humans and us.”

“Except the wings.”

“Well, everyone has their quirks.”

Felix sighed. “This is all a lot of information. I… I wish I could give you an answer, tell you what I want but I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“No.” Minho reached across the table and set his hand over Felix’s. “Never apologize for using your free will. You are a human, and humans are the most beautiful, amazing creatures in the universe. Your free will is your power. Never let anyone take that away from you. Not God, Lucifer, or anyone in between. This is a big choice and you deserve the right to take your time.”

“Thank you,” Felix said. He turned his hand up and squeezed Minho’s for a moment. “I’m more relaxed than I thought I’d be, seeing you again, knowing what I know.”

“I’m glad we could meet and talk,” Felix said. “Honestly, even if things don’t work out. If you choose God’s side or don’t choose any side at all. I would like to still be your friend, in whatever capacity I can.”

Felix nodded. A big part of him wanted to immediately agree, say yes, of course – but he held back. Minho was right; this was a big decision – and he did need time to process it all. So instead, he smiled and rose.

“Can one of my staff take you home?” He offered.

“No, I’ll catch the bus. I want to run a few errands before I go home anyways. I’ll call you or Chan soon, okay?”

“Take your time.”

“Tell him I said hi?”

“I will.” Minho smiled as Felix walked back down the stairs and slipped out the door into the early evening. He hadn’t realized how long he’d stayed with Minho. But they had a lot to talk about, and he had learned a lot. His questions had mostly been answered, though he had a hundred more, it felt like.

Deciding against errands, Felix rode toward home, his head spinning with all of the new information. Despite going against everything he’d been taught as a child, something about Minho’s explanation resonated with him. It made sense in a way the biblical stories never did. While he had more questions, the story didn’t have as many gaps as the other side, and so much was explained in a clearer manner than “God said so”. Even so, he did want to spend time considering things, especially knowing why he was wanted. He wondered about the drawing of him, and if there would be any way to see it without actually entering literal hell.

Felix crawled into bed shortly after arriving home, his exhaustion hitting him like a brick when he stepped in the front door. His dreams were filled with angels and demons, fighting over him. His father was there, shouting curses at him for damning the world. And on either side of him throughout it all stood Chan and Minho, protecting him from anything that might hurt him. He was happy.

Despite waking the next morning with a very solid idea of his decision, Felix gave himself time. A few days, and he was itching to call them again. After a week, the itch hadn’t faded, but he’d begun researching again, using his newfound knowledge to hunt more precisely. As he did, he realized that much of the Lucifer as a good guy theory matched quite nicely with what Minho had explained, further strengthening his side of things.

During the second week, Felix called his father. It was a casual chat, he said, but he used the opportunity to grill his father on the specifics of the rebellion and the upcoming end of days. He wanted to know how much his father would be able to give him that was concrete – or at the very least rational.

Not enough, unfortunately, Felix realized after their three hour call ended. He’d told his father he was thinking of returning to a church and wanted to learn about different things he’d questioned, which was more than enough of an excuse for his father to give him a full sermon, damn near. But his questions still remained unanswered, or answered with vague, grey answers like “God’s plan is the right one” and “God just does it this way”. Heaven was just paradise, though his father had no idea what paradise might entail.

By week three, Felix was relatively confident that he knew his decision. He just had one final question that needed answering. He sent a text to Minho and Chan in a group text.

‘Can we meet?’

‘All of us?’ Chan replied back only a few minutes later.

‘Yes’

Minho responded this time. ‘I’m free tomorrow night.’

‘I can be free’ Chan said.

‘Tomorrow is fine. Your apartment, Minho?’

There was a lag in texting after both had seen it. Felix assumed they were together, or at least chatting. Finally, Minho responded.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I know I’m safe with you guys. I just have a question that I want to see you for. Face to face. When you answer.’

‘We’ll be there. Six?’ Chan offered.

‘Works for me’ Minho said.

‘See you guys, six tomorrow’ Felix responded, setting his phone down before he gave in and texted anything further to them. It had been seven months now, nearly, since he’d seen Chan. He was scared that there would be bad blood despite Minho’s promise otherwise. But moving past this was the only way to move forward, if he ultimately decided to do so.

 The line was just as busy as it had been seven months ago when Felix arrived at the Lyon’s Den. He considered waiting in line, but as soon as Hoseok spotted him, he waved. “They’re waiting for you, head up in the elevator.” He said when Felix approached. He stepped forward, letting Felix into the busy club.

The ride up to the loft felt like it took twice as long as normal. Felix went over everything he’d planned to say again and again, his stomach twisting itself in uncomfortable knots as the elevator groaned upward. When the doors finally opened to reveal the gentle foyer to Minho’s apartment, every thought left Felix’s brain. He pulled off his shoes and pushed open the main along with the oxygen leaving his lungs as it opened to the lavish interior.

Minho and Chan were both at the bar. Though he’d only seen Minho a few weeks ago, he seemed to be even more stunning than before. He was grinning, mid-laugh at something, when Felix entered. But Chan… Felix worried his heart would stop before he could step into the room.

Every memory seemed to rush to the surface when their eyes met, every emotion, every smile and laugh, and nights spent talking until the sun rose. He hadn’t forgotten how in love with that man he was, but being apart so long had numbed the pain. This was a scar being ripped back open, and everything flooded to the surface.

Felix took a step inside, his knees shaky. “Hi—” He whispered.

Chan smiled softly, almost sadly, but Minho rushed forward, quickly setting a hand on Felix’s arm.

“No trouble getting in?” He asked softly, forcing Felix to meet his gaze. He shook his head no, thankful for the distraction from Chan’s intense stare.

“Good. Would you like a drink?”

“I would.”

“Go sit. Anywhere you’re comfortable. I’ll make you one.”

Felix nodded. Minho stepped back to the bar. Chan rose from the stool he’d been sitting on, folding his hands in front of himself.

“Nice to see you, Felix,” he said softly.

“You too…” Felix struggled to keep his voice steady. He knew it was shaking, but Chan gave no indication he heard it. He cleared his throat.

“How’ve you been?”

Felix bit the inside of his lips, desperately trying to form the words. Fine, good, great, even okay, but none of them would come out. Instead his eyes welled with involuntary tears.

Minho glanced between them.

“Felix,” he said softly. “I know you came to ask us a question but… I feel like there are some bigger things to get out of the way first.” He came around the bar and set a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “I’m going to run down to the club, I need to get a refill of a few of my bottles anyways.”

He slipped out of the door, letting it close behind him.

“Felix,” Chan whispered.

Felix grimaced, feeling the hot streak down his face as the first tear fell. “Can I touch you?” Chan asked. “Hug you?”

“Please—”

They rushed to each other before Felix knew what was happening, and he found himself wrapped in Chan’s strong arms. He cried against his shoulder, gripping his shirt in tight fists.

“It’s okay,” Chan whispered, his breath warm against Felix’s skin.

“I miss you,” Felix gasped.

“I miss you too, Lix. So much.” Chan squeezed him a little tighter. “Every day.”

“I was afraid—” Felix cut himself off, burying his face in Chan’s chest.

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid you’d hate me,” Felix mumbled.

“Never. I told you to take your time. You could have cut of contact for a year, more, and I would’ve been here waiting for you to tell me your decision.”

Chan pulled back, releasing Felix to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I love you. That won’t change. No matter how long it takes for you to decide.”

Felix swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing even as his eyes welled with a fresh bout of tears. “I want to…” He swallowed hard. “I want to be with you, I just need to know…”

Chan nodded. “You can ask. We’ll wait for Minho to come up, okay? You wanted to ask him too, right?”

“He should be asked, yeah,” Felix agreed, nodding.

“Let’s sit down.” Chan grabbed the glasses and headed toward the couch, placing them on coasters. He sat down and Felix sat next to him, falling into his arms naturally. Despite the months of silence, this felt like the most normal thing in the world for Felix. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s middle, nuzzling his chest and inhaling his scent. Chan wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“What’ve you been doing these months?”

“Working,” Felix mumbled. “Doing research.”

“Research?”

“Demons. Angels, the apocalypse… Trying to figure stuff out.”

“That sounds incredibly boring.” Chan chuckled. “Did you learn anything fun?”

“Lots of questions still… Nobody knows the truth. I guess that’s on purpose. God wants to keep everything quiet. Minho explained… How he isn’t such a good deity.”

“Bit of a dick, really,” Chan said.

Felix looked up, catching his dimple as he tried to keep a straight face. He laughed helplessly, and Chan’s grin grew. “There’s the sound I’ve missed,” he whispered.

Felix’s smile faded. “I’m sorry I ghosted you. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“It was perfectly fair. Felix, we dropped a bombshell on you that night. Neither of us blamed you for your reaction. We could’ve told you a thousand better ways.”

“I don’t think there would have been an easy way to tell me you and he were demons from hell.”

Chan chuckled. “No, I suppose not. But the point is still there. You took time that you needed to take to figure things out. It was a big change, and a lot of questions that I’m sure you needed answers to. That was entirely fair and neither of us are upset about it.”

“It’s been so long.”

“Lix.” Chan pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I said it before, I’ll say it again. I am more than happy to wait for you. You’re worth it.”

Felix made a small noise, squeezing Chan’s middle tighter. He heard the door open and glanced up, smiling softly at Minho, who entered quietly with a few bottles. He placed them on the shelf behind the bar and grabbed his own glass, settling onto the couch next to Felix.

“Do you two still want to talk?” He asked.

“No, we’re okay.” Felix said. He sat up, wiping his cheeks. “I’m okay.” He took a large swallow from the glass Minho had poured him and took a deep breath.

“You said you had a question.”

“I did. I do.” Felix chewed his lip for a moment, playing with the glass in his hands. “If…” He looked at Minho. “The end of the world, or… I guess… The big fight between heaven and hell. If hell wins, what happens to the believers? The Christians?”

“Nothing at all,” Felix answered. “Unfortunately, there will be some death, on all sides, but I’m guessing you’re asking if we – hell – will do something to those who sided with God.”

Felix nodded.

“Then the answer is no. We don’t believe in that sort of punishment. Humans have free will instilled in them. They should be free to worship whoever and whatever they want. Even after the end war… If they want to still believe that their God is the ultimate ruler, that’s their choice, just like it’ll be the choice for anyone else to believe in whichever deity they want, or none at all. Your family will be safe. The current ones and the ones in the future.”

“You figured why I was asking, huh?” Felix asked.

“You care for them. And that’s a good thing. They will be cared for, their souls and their bodies – whoever is still living from your bloodline.”

Felix nodded. “Thank you.”

“Was that all you wanted to know?” Chan asked gently.

“No. Um… That was the big one. But I wanted to know when I choose. If I stay with you, what happens then?”

“I get to take you out on some amazing dates,” Minho said, offering a charming smile.

“And I finally get to cuddle with you again,” Chan said, resting his chin on Felix’s shoulder.

Felix chuckled. “So what, we just… Go along pretending it’s all normal? You’re not both… Demons?”

“Well, in public, yeah. We choose to live on earth because we like being human. At least, we like being around humans. In private… Well, if you want to fly…”

“Or see just how amazing demons are in bed,” Chan murmured.

“Then we can definitely oblige,” Minho finished. “But for the most part… Nothing will change. You’ll be you, we’ll be us. Just like if we were all human.”

“And after I… Aren’t demons immortal? What about when I get old? Die?”

“Our bodies will age with you. That’s a choice we both made. We want to live normal lifespans. After These bodies perish then we’ll go back down and so will you. You’ll have eternity with us. Happily, I hope. The whole… Til death do we part doesn’t really apply here.”

“What if we break up?”

“Then we do. Then you’re free to change your mind. Choose the other side, or stick on our side. You don’t have to date either of us for that. And hell is big. If you don’t want to see us… Well, I know there are plenty of demons and handsome souls that would kill for a shot with you, now or in the afterlife.”

“So it’s just… That? Just dating? Nothing binding or… Anything?”

Minho shook his head. “I told you, Felix. We believe in the freedom to choose above all else.”

“We won’t force you into something that makes you unhappy,” Chan said. “Your happiness, and your ability to choose that happiness, is exactly what hell is fighting for.”

Felix smiled to himself, considering their words. He nodded after a moment. “Then I’ve made my choice, I think.”

“Oh?” Minho asked, his mouth forming a cute downturn that showed just a bit of his front teeth.

Felix smiled wider, looking up at him. “Yeah.”

He turned and held Chan’s cheeks in his hands, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. Chan immediately leaned into it, wrapping his arms tightly around Felix. He whined when Felix broke the kiss, pouting.

Felix turned and grabbed Minho’s hand, leaning closer.

“You’re sure?” Minho whispered when their noses brushed. Felix nodded.

“I’m very sure.”

Their lips met gently at first, but the kiss deepened naturally. There were no fireworks, nothing extremely special about kissing a demon, Felix realized – aside from the fact that he was a great kisser. He felt Chan’s lips on his shoulder and relaxed against him, letting his body be pressed between the two.

He broke their kiss and smiled softly, tilting his head to let Chan bite gently on his neck. “Is sex with a demon really so different?” Felix murmured.

“Hm… Care to find out?” Minho asked. His eyes flipped to solid black, surprising a gasp out of Felix.

“Too much?” Minho worried.

“No…” Felix reached up, touching Minho’s soft cheek. “Keep them…” He shifted to look at Chan. “What do you look like? As a demon? Do you have any, since you’re half human?”

Chan nodded. “Do you want to see?”

“I do… It’s only fair, I should know what my boyfriends look like.”

Chan grinned. He leaned back and blinked hard a few times, breathing out and letting his body relax. Like it had around Minho, the air shimmered and waved before snapping into sharp clarity.

Chan’s eyes were the same solid black, but he lacked wings. His horns were longer than Minho’s, curving back into his wavy hair and ending in little points like a young goat’s. They were a rich blue-black that faded into a deep crimson at the tips. Felix reached up, grasping one horn lightly. Chan’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh—” Felix slipped his tongue out from between his teeth and gently tugged the horn, a thrill of pleasure sparking through his stomach when Chan moaned.

“They’re sensitive,” Minho murmured against his ear. “You won’t hurt him, pulling on them.”

“Are yours?”

“Less so. My wings are though.” Minho pressed kisses along Felix’s neck and jaw. “Will you let us take you to bed?”

Felix’s heart skipped a beat as blood rushed down to his already swelling cock. He nodded quickly. The three rose in a silent rush, hands groping each other’s bodies as they headed down the hall. Felix let himself be guided into a large bedroom. The bed was enormous, taking up most of the space in the room. It had a plush blanket of dark purple and black, and Felix wanted nothing more than to burrow underneath it. First, however, the problem of his clothing – which was quickly sorted by the four hands of his new partners, turning him back and forth as they stole kisses along with the fabric.

Felix found himself airborne once he was naked, gasping when he landed on the bed hard enough to bounce. Minho crawled over him first, his horns on display now.

“Where are your wings?” Felix asked, running his hand through the air over Minho’s shoulder.

“It won’t be too overwhelming? To see them?”

“I should get used to it, right?”

“That’s kind of you.”

In the next moment, they appeared, shielding much of the lamplight with their size. Felix reached up, burying his fingers in the soft feathers. Minho sighed contentedly.

Chan laid next to Felix, reaching a hand down between his legs. He began teasing his hole as he nibbled his collarbone.

Minho caught his mouth in another kiss, reaching down and grasping Felix’s cock in his hand. He stroked slowly, teasing the tip with his thumb.

Felix whined when he felt a warm liquid against his ass. He pulled away, looking at Chan.

“Nice thing about demon boyfriends… We make this part so much easier. It’s safe, just oil. Relax.”

“You both have far too many clothes on,” Felix pouted, tugging up Minho’s shirt. “It’s not fair.”

“Easily solved.” Minho snapped. Both his and Chan’s clothes disappeared, and Felix gaped.

“You— Holy shit.”

“Well, not holy,” Chan murmured. Minho laughed and leaned down, kissing Felix’s surprised mouth.

Felix reached down, curling his fingers around Minho’s cock. He whined. “Oh, it’s big…”

Minho smiled almost shyly, glancing at Chan, who smirked. “Told you he’d be impressed.”

Felix frowned, pouting. “What do you mean?”

“You like my cock,” Chan said, sliding two fingers into Felix suddenly. He gasped, arching his hips against Chan’s hand. “But you love that dildo we use on you. He’s about the same length.”

Felix stroked him a few times. Chan wasn’t wrong; he loved how thick he was, and how delightfully full he made him feel - but he loved length - and Minho’s cock was going to reach perfectly deep inside him. He spread his legs wider, earning a chuckle from both of them.

“Want him to fuck you, Lix?” Chan teased, fucking him with his fingers. Felix moaned, screwing his eyes shut. His cheeks warmed as he nodded.

Minho kissed him hard, reaching down and adding one of his own fingers to Chan’s.

The two worked him open until Felix was writhing under their touch, each stroke bringing him right to the edge before pulling him back.

“Please!” He gasped desperately. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up, please—”

“We don’t want you to last,” Minho said simply.

“We want to take you apart, over and over,” Chan agreed. He leaned over Felix and kissed Minho, cupping his cheek with his free hand. Felix whined softly, biting his bottom lip as he watched them.

When they broke the kiss, Minho smirked down at him. “Aw, do you feel left out?” He teased.

Felix shook his head, a little proud to realize wasn’t lying. There was no jealously, just eagerness.

He leaned up and kissed Minho, then Chan. “I’m good at sharing.”

Minho laughed brightly. He and Chan removed their hands from between Felix’s thighs and Minho rolled onto his back, scooting up so he was slouching against the pillows. His wings shimmered out of view, allowing him to sit up more. “Come onto my lap.”

Felix obeyed, straddling his hips and resting his hands on his shoulders. “Where do they go? When you hide them?”

Minho leaned forward, motioning over his shoulder. “Look.”

Felix cleaned closer, giggling when Minho began to bite gently along his collarbone. Running the entire length of Minho’s back on either side were a pair of intricate wings, tattooed with same dark iridescent color of his feathers.

“Oh wow…” Felix reached down, touching one of the lines. It felt like regular skin. “It’s like a tattoo.”

“That’s what it’s meant to mimic,” Minho said, his voice muffled by Felix’s skin. “Easier to hide in plain sight.”

“It’s gorgeous. Oh!” Felix laughed when Minho slapped his ass suddenly.

“So are you,” Minho growled. Chan groaned from next to them.

“Dude, he’s already in bed, do you need cheesy pickup lines?”

“I like them,” Felix pouted, looking over at Chan. He lifted himself onto his elbow, cocking a brow.

“Give it a few weeks. He’s incessant with those.”

“So that’s who you learned it from.”

Chan’s smile was replaced with a surprised ‘o’ shape, and Minho laughed brightly. He pulled Felix closer and kissed him hard. “Finally someone that can snark off to him with me,” he said.

Felix smiled shyly, his heart stuttering. Though they were in such intimate positions, being able to tease and laugh was so important. He felt entirely welcomed by them, and any concerns of an awkward first time were fading quickly.

Chan moved behind Felix, pressing his hardness to his lower back. Felix let his eyes slip shut as the two held him, their hands and mouths roaming over his body. He relaxed between them, reaching one hand down to stroke Minho’s cock. He moved his other behind them, squeezing Chan’s ass and dragging him closer. Chan grunted softly, grinding himself against Felix’s ass.

Minho reached around, stroking Chan’s cock gently. Chan moved back, allowing him to angle it downward. Chan’s tip bumped against Felix’s hole, and Felix whined softly, twisting his hips back for more.

Minho’s hand disappeared for a moment before Felix felt a warm liquid dribble over his hole. Chan used the tip off of his cock to catch it, rubbing it over the sensitive rim before pushing at it. Felix groaned, letting his head fall forward onto Minho’s chest. Minho smiled against his shoulder. He grabbed Felix’s ass in both hands and spread him.

“Give it to him,” he grumbled. “Get him ready for me, Chan…” He nipped Felix’s earlobe. “Maybe ready for both of us, hm?”

Felix moaned softly. Minho laughed, a deep, gentle rumble.

“Oh, that sounds good to you doesn’t it? Feeling both of us inside you? Fucking you at the same time?”

Chan lined his cock up and drove in before Felix could answer, forcing a sharp cry from his throat.

Minho slapped his ass with some force before squeezing again, keeping him open as Chan’s cock drove deep into him.

Felix shouted, his body shuddering hard. They’d prepped him well enough for the stretch not to hurt, but it was delightfully overwhelming, especially after seven months without anyone’s touch. His cock ached for attention, but Minho’s grip on his ass and Chan’s on his hips kept him still, unable to do anything but plead and take it.

He grabbed Minho’s shoulders, shouting against his chest as Chan began to fuck him, each thrust deep and hard.

“Please—“ He gasped.

“Please what?” Minho teased, entirely nonchalant.

“I can’t — Too close—“

“Then come,” he said, and Felix felt him shrug. “We’re going to use you over and over tonight, Felix. Come on his cock. Show him how much you missed him fucking you, filling you.”

Felix moaned again, not bothering to try and stifle himself the way he did in his apartment. “Chan—“ He gasped. Chan wrapped his arm around his chest and pulled Felix upright, still pounding into his hole. He shifted his grip, pinning Felix’s arms back so he couldn’t touch himself. His cock bounced helplessly with each thrust, tension making it ache as his balls tightened to his body.

Felix closed his eyes, his cheeks warming at his exposed state, knowing Minho was directly under him, seeing it all.

“You’re so close, Felix,” Minho cooed. He stroked a finger up the underside of Felix’s cock. The simple touch made Felix scream, his cock jerking and dribbling precome.

“Let it out, baby. Make him come, Chan. I wanna see it before I fuck him.”

Chan sped up, the sound of their skin striking loud in the room. Felix threw his head back, choking out a scream as Chan twisted his hips, shifting the angle to perfectly stimulate his prostate.

“Yes— Fuck, more!” Felix gasped. Chan continued, grunting softly.

Felix wrestled one hand free and reached up, grabbed one of the dark horns sprouting from Chan’s head. He tugged firmly, laughing breathlessly when Chan’s hips lost their rhythm.

He snapped forward twice more, biting down hard on Felix’s shoulder. The thread keeping Felix on the edge snapped. His body tensed and jerked as his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come on each thrust of Chan’s hips.

Minho moaned delightedly, his hands gripping Felix’s quivering thighs as he encouraged more from both of them. Chan continued, holding Felix close as he sucked a bruise onto his delicate skin.

Felix’s whined, his cock flagging a bit as his orgasm reached its peak and began to fade. Chan slowed down and slipped his cock free. He guided Felix’s hips down to Minho’s lap, lining his cock up and brushing the tip over Felix’s twitching rim.

“Felix,” Minho said firmly.

Felix opened his eyes, his cheeks warming. Minho’s chest and belly were covered in ropes of his come.

“Hey.” Their gazes met, and Minho smiled. “You sure about this? We won’t be mad if you stop.”

Felix shook his head. He set his hands on Minho’s shoulders and lowered himself down, letting Chan guide Minho’s cock into him.

Minho’s lips parted in a quiet gasp. He grabbed Felix’s hips, nodding once.

Felix groaned, biting his bottom lip. Minho’s cock was long and perfectly curved, hitting deep inside him. He pressed a hand under his belly, clenching around Minho once their bodies pressed together.

“Fuck, are you in my stomach?” He panted.

Minho laughed, twitching his hips up. The action pushed him just a few centimeters deeper, but it was enough to make Felix’s body ache delightfully all the way down to his toes.

“Feels that way - you are unbearably tight. Come on… Move for me.”

Felix lifted himself up, gasping quickly. His legs began to quiver, Minho’s cock dragging along his prostate. He managed a few inches before sobbing brokenly and sinking back down.

“It’s too much,” he panted.

“Need to stop?” Minho worried, stroking his lower back.

“No!” Felix leaned forward, kissing him. “No, just… Take control. Make me take it.” He murmured against his mouth.

“You sure?”

“I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”

Minho nodded. He sat up more and grabbed Felix’s hips. Felix leaned back, smiling when Chan wrapped his arms around him.

“First time he fucked me, I couldn’t even take his whole cock,” he murmured. “You’re doing great.”

Felix whined softly. Minho lifted him easily, and Chan gripped his middle, keeping him up on his knees.

“Relax,” he murmured, kissing Felix once. “Let yourself take him.”

Felix nodded. Minho thrusted upward, burying his cock deep. Felix screamed, his cock throbbing. A spurt of precome erupted from it, and he felt himself hardening despite the exhaustion.

Minho thrusted again, and again, pausing after each one with his cock buried as deep as he could go. As Felix’s body relaxed around him, he began to move with the thrusts, meeting Minho halfway. His cock was hard once more, dribbling precome as his body readied for his second climax.

He leaned back against Chan, comforted by his strong arms and gentle praises, and warmed by Minho’s lips, brushing against every bit of skin he could reach as Felix rode his cock.

“I want you—“ Felix whispered.

“I’m right here,” Chan said.

“No— I want you to fuck me,” he gasped, “both of you.”

“You sure?”

Felix nodded quickly.

“Tell us if it’s too much,” Minho said.

Felix nodded. The trio shifted easily so Minho was lying more on his back. He pulled Felix to his chest, kissing him hard. Chan lined his cock up and slid it in just as Minho slid out, stretching Felix wider for just a moment. Chan thrusted a few times, then pulled out at the same time Minho slipped back in, once again stretching Felix just a bit more.

The two took turns fucking him for what felt like ages, teasing him with the promise of both their cocks for a split second before one pulled out. He understood what they were doing, rationally, but his lust addled mind craved more.

Finally, Minho’s flared tip slipped in at the same time Chan’s was lodged inside him, the widest stretch they’d given. Felix shouted against Minho’s shoulder, a mix of pleasure and pain going straight to his cock. He nearly sobbed when Chan pulled out.

“Doing so good,” Minho cooed, rubbing Felix’s back. “Getting loose enough for us now, just a little longer.”

“Please—“

“I know.” Minho kissed his shoulder, and Felix felt Chan’s cock against his hole again. “So close, just breathe through it, baby.” He pulled out most of the way and paused.  

Felix felt more lube drizzle over his hole and Chan began to push in. Instead of withdrawing, Minho pushed up as well, both of their cocks slipping deeper into Felix’s ass.

He gasped, gripping the pillow on either side of Minho’s head. The stretch was intense, pulling him open in a way he’d never experienced. His body ached, mind telling him this wasn’t what his aching ass was meant to be put through, but the pleasure coursing through his veins outweighed that. He moaned brokenly, pushing his hips down as both cocks filled him. Though neither could push all the way in, their combined girth was more than enough. He shivered.

“You okay, baby?” Chan worried as Felix shuddered.

Minho laughed softly. “He’s gonna come.” He held Felix’s ass, squeezing. “Fuck him, make him come on our cocks.”

Felix moaned brokenly, nodding quickly. He didn’t trust his voice enough to speak.

Chan grabbed his hips and began to thrust, forcing his ass to take a bit more of his cock each time. Minho did the same under him, alternating his thrusts so Felix was always filled and stretched to the brim.

Tears welled in Felix’s eyes, not from pain but pleasure, blurring his vision. He could hear himself screaming their names, but cotton had been forced in his ears, making everything sound muffled and far away. Time seemed to slow. They held him close, caressing and soothing his aches even while they used his tired body.

His balls squeezed painfully against his body, protesting another orgasm, but their cocks remained relentless, milking it out of him. His stomach twisted and ached, come dribbling out of his cock in thick streams, forced into spurts when they struck his prostate just so. He could hear their voices, praising him, loving him, telling him how good he was.

Felix floated along even as his body shuddered through an orgasm that felt like it would never end. He was both numb and far too sensitive, each thrust from the two driving a weak shout from him.

It was Minho that lost his rhythm first, his short nails digging into Felix’s ass as he thrust in. His come was warm; far warmer than anything Felix had felt before. It didn’t burn, but the sudden change made him gasp. Chan held him still, pressing kisses to his shoulder and back as Minho spilled inside him.

Chan came before Minho had finished. Even in this strange free floating state, Felix recognized his telltale grunts and the rough shudders of his body as his cock emptied his own release.

 “Lix…”

“Hey, Felix, baby, you with us?”

Their voices blended together. Felix wanted to answer, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. He nodded, trying to open his heavy eyes.

“Just relax, we’ve got you,” Chan murmured. Felix whimpered when he felt them pull out, a warm wetness following after.

“I’ll grab it,” Chan said. The bed shifted and Felix gasped, a streak of panic arcing through him. He tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in his overused body.

“Shh, shh, we’re right here,” Minho said. His arms surrounded Felix, bringing him back down to lie with him. “He’s gotta get a cloth, we’re all messy. You’re here with us both, okay?”

Felix nodded, squeezing his eyes tighter.

“You did perfectly,” Minho continued, stroking his fingers through Felix’s hair. “Just rest now, we’ll take care of you.”

Felix felt his body relaxing as Minho spoke, soothed by his touch and words. He felt the bed shift again, and Chan touched his lower back.

“I’m gonna clean you up now, Lix.” He said. The washcloth was damp and warm against Felix’s thighs. Chan moved his legs easily to clean him up, and Minho helped Felix’s heavy, exhausted body roll to finish cleaning him up. There was a light breeze, and the damp, warm sheets were suddenly dry and cool. Chan climbed into bed next to Felix and kissed his cheek.

“Hey, can you sit up a little bit? You should eat something.”

Felix nodded. His mind still felt foggy but his body seemed more his own now; he could move his limbs without too much struggle. He opened his eyes, rubbing them with the back of his fist.

Chan smiled softly, his horns and demon eyes gone.

“He lives. Here.” He sat up and opened up a bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece and handing it to Felix. Felix sat up slowly, groaning at the deep ache in his body.

“Take it slow,” Minho said, helping him up. A glance at him confirmed he’d done away with his demonic features for the time being as well. He smiled softly and brushed back Felix’s hair. “You did a number to your body with us, go slow, okay?”

“What happened?” Felix asked, each worth feeling like it weighed ten pounds on his tongue. He took a bite of the candy, smiling a little at the sweetness.

“Just a lot of emotions all at once,” Minho said. “Sometimes humans get a little too much pleasure, it can make your brain go all foggy like that. As demons we tend to trigger it more easily. I didn’t think we’d be doing that tonight – with both of us, you know, I’m sorry I didn’t think to warn you.”

“It’s okay, I liked it.” Felix rubbed his eyes again, grimacing. “I just wish I could think.”

Minho kissed his temple. “You’ll be back to normal tomorrow. Just gotta get something into your stomach or you’re gonna be sick. And you should drink some water.”

Felix nearly moaned. He nodded. “Oh God, I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”

“Here.” Chan passed over a bottle of water and Felix grabbed it, gulping down half of it desperately. He gasped and groaned, letting his head fall back onto the headboard. “Thank you.”

He handed the bottle back to Chan and took the remaining chocolate, finishing it before sighing and wiggling down under the clean covers. “You two aren’t going to leave, right?” He asked suddenly, an uncomfortable knot of anxiety forming in his stomach.

“No, not at all,” Chan said.

“We’ll be right here,” Minho promised.

“We’ll talk about everything tomorrow,” Chan said. “Maybe go to breakfast together?”

“That sounds nice,” Felix whispered. He relaxed a little at their words, feeling safe with them.

Chan and Minho stretched out next to him and Felix rolled onto his side, resting his head on Chan’s chest. Felix set his hand over Chan’s on his stomach. Minho pressed against Felix’s back, reaching around him and setting his hand on top of theirs.

They’d likely get far too warm in the middle of the night, Felix figured, already toasty between their bodies, but it was entirely worth it. His father had warned him that three was too many, a crowd of evil. Whether or not ignoring the warning meant meant doom for the religious world – that remained to be seen. But for Felix at that moment, three was the perfect number. The only thing surrounding him was love and affection, and that was enough.

[briamichellewrites]

14

Phoenix approached Brad with a confession. He had wine while on tour. They sat down together. He then asked him to explain himself. They went to a church service where they had communion. Did he have wine? Yes, he did. He was afraid of making it a big deal by denying it. Brad thanked him for telling him. Since he wasn’t Christian, he couldn’t tell him if he slipped up. His conscious said he did and he was racked with guilt. Did he want to drink? Yes, that’s why he came to him.

“It might be different from what we observe as Jews.”

“It’s the symbol of the blood of Christ when he was hung from the cross. The wafer is the body.”

“Passover. Talk to your priest or religious leader. Tell them about how you thought it would be rude to say no and now, you’re feeling guilty which is giving you cravings.”

He would do that. Did anything else happen? No. They mostly played to teenagers and kids. Some of them paid attention. They had fun, though. Was he going to continue the tour? Yeah, he would. He was eager to come back to Linkin Park. It would be a different crowd. Where did he think they would be in a year or two? He had no idea. Hopefully, they would be playing to a crowd full of people. Brad hoped so, too. They had been working their asses off for that.

Bria. She was still hobbling around on crutches. Jon was at home with her and Woody, who was making sure she rested by getting comfortable on her lap. Jon didn’t mind staying home with her. He pulled up the ottoman and put it in front of where she was sitting on the couch. Woody purred loudly to help her feel better. She scratched his head. That feels good, human!

“Baby, where are you?”

“I’m in my own little world, Jon.”

“Are you still blaming yourself for the accident?”

“I’m blaming myself for Mike getting hurt. Not for myself.”

“What would you have done differently to prevent it from happening?”

She shook her head because she didn’t know. Nothing. There was nothing she could have done differently to prevent it from happening. They didn’t have time to react or jump out of the way. She needed to forgive herself and focus on the fact that he was okay. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Just like he did when she was younger.

Both she and Phoenix needed to learn how to forgive themselves. Life happened and sometimes there was nothing they could do to prevent it. What about her parents? They couldn’t have known that they would be hit by a car. Did she mourn them? Yes, privately. She still had moments when she got angry and she asked herself why it had to happen. Jon explained that a driver hit them. She understood that. There were so many things in her life she had no control over.

“You didn’t get a fair chance because of how you were born. Your birth mother hurt you. Twice. You have every reason to be angry at her. You also have the right to feel compassion and empathy. What someone chooses to do doesn’t mean you should hate them forever. People make bad decisions. It’s about separating their bad decisions from who they are as a person.”

Her mother made a selfless choice when she placed her for adoption. Even if it wasn’t her choice. He remembered when he first met her. She was five years old and had moved next door to him with her parents. At that age, she was very curious about everything. She was also very hyperactive. Her parents did whatever they could to get her to sit still. But she gave him the biggest smile whenever she saw him. He thought she was adorable and very entertaining.

“Bria, come over here and stop bouncing around”, her father said.

She did as she was told. Her toys were on the floor of the living room. She had a cabbage patch doll with clothes and a hairbrush. That was her favorite toy because she loved taking care of it. She also had a baby bottle and cloth diapers. It helped her sit still while the adults talked. The eighties. A time when he had a questionable fashion sense. He could look back at those pictures and laugh at himself.

Bon Jovi came out in 1984 with their song, Runaway. From there, their career took off. They were not just boys from New Jersey anymore. They were rock stars. But he found comfort at home where he could be himself. His family never treated him as a rock star. He was just John to them. To Bria, he was her cool neighbor who played with her whenever she and her parents were in town.

Her parents did the best they could. He gave them a lot of credit because she was not an easy child. She had massive amounts of energy and she needed to constantly move around. At the time, they didn’t know her ADHD was likely caused by her birth mother using drugs while pregnant with her. They sent her to boarding school, so she could have a consistent routine. It was hard at first because she was so far away, but it ended up being the best thing for her.

She got to have experiences other children her age didn’t have. If she had gone to regular school, she would have likely been labeled a troublemaker and she would have fallen behind the other children. The staff at her school developed ways to help her learn with her disability. She was encouraged to seek out activities to help her self-esteem.

She did theater and dance, which helped her channel her energy into something positive. Her body was allowed to move around, instead of being told to sit still and pay attention. She didn’t have a disability when she was performing. Rather, she was just one of the kids. He felt honored to have been there to watch her grow up and he knew how proud her parents were of her. They talked about her good grades and everything she was doing.

Whether that was visiting a foreign country or performing on stage. While at school, her music teacher discovered her talent. She could play music by ear. It was a talent she hadn’t seen before in other students. Even at the very young age of five, she could play the piano like she was an adult who had been playing for years. She was a true child prodigy and she wanted her to continue playing music.

Phoenix came home to find them in the living room talking. Woody looked up at him as he came over. Hi, human! He asked Bria how she was doing. Woody was making sure she took it easy. They laughed. He apologized for being late.

After talking to Brad, he drove home to visit his pastor. Why? He was feeling guilty about having wine while on tour. It was communion wine, but he couldn’t stop beating himself up over it. He talked to Brad about it and he encouraged him to talk to his pastor. It helped him feel a lot better because it didn’t mean he slipped up or relapsed. Good for him for acknowledging what happened, instead of sweeping it under the rug. The more guilty he felt, the more tempted he was to relapse.

He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to go down that path. Woody extended his paw to him. He scratched his head and then thanked him. You’re welcome, human. After a while, he finally got off her lap because he was hungry. He went into the kitchen. Shockingly, his bowl was empty. Meow! Meow! Human! She got up, hobbled to the kitchen, and shook his bowl to refill it. Thank you!

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[asoulofatlantis]

Uh... I guess we make a newyearseve tradition out of the Christmas tradition ^^' And I do not know for how long because I am still not in the mood. But I try to get at least the SeeD-Exam done.

He always acts like she is annoying him, but that reaction pretty much shows that he is used to getting favors for being her favorite student.

Makes you wonder which idiot decided on who is in which squad in that exam. I mean... I guess giving a rather quiet introverted person like Squall a lively extrovert partner like Zell/Xell (how do they write that in English again? ^^') does make somewhat sense, but putting Seifer in the same team as two people who hate him, seems a bit harsh for an examen, especially since this isn't Seifers first try on this exam, so there are multiple reasons for him to not qualify for squad leader, his relationship with Squall and Zell aside. Meaning he is almost doomed for failure and could have easily dragged two promising new candidates down. Test or not, this is cruel.

Whoevers job it was to take care of the headmaster here, is hopefully fired by now...

He has a big mouth for a guy who failed this examen at least twice by now.

They throw them in an actual real-life battlefield for the test and yet, surviving doesn't mean that you will automatically pass.

First he is all "I am so cool. I am not afraid of battles. Blah, blah, blah and dann he boasts that he has a ROMANTIC dream? Oh boy...

His dream isn't as romantic as he makes it look like either, by the way.

Harsh words from a guy who will fail just another exam. But... I guess the game does try to show us that as a teacher/instructor, Quistis has still a lot to learn.

I NEVER understood how the ranking actually worked. I remember doing it with a walkthrough and I only got Rank 3. I had rank 5 once if I remember correctly, but god knows how.

I just found something that tells me all the stuff I did wrong. And shit did I do A LOT wrong ^^'

You know I am a shipper and cheesy lovestorys usually always get me at some point, but Rinoa and Squall never got me. I never felt like they worked together or that they had great chemistry and the whole ordeal with Rinoas mother and Squall father feels absolutely weird if you look at the whole picture of that story. So I do NOT in fact look forward to meeting Rinoa for the first time at the party.

Joke is on us here, because she actually is a witch (tho how one becomes a witch is something I will never fully get in this game...) and this could have easily be the only reason he actually fell in love with that spoiled, naive and annoying little brat here. Seriously, you know all those theories out there from other movies? Those ones were you suddenly think: "Oh shit! That even makes sense!" like it sounds like a stupid conspiracy, but it makes sense if you think about it. So... Rinoa put a spell on Squall right here to fall in love with her and that is why we truly get that stupid second-hand love story in the first place. (That is probably not true, but I just want to put that out here, because it makes more sense than someone like Squall falling for someone like her ^^')

One of 3000 Versions of eyes on me is playing in the background, in true final fantasy stile, the main theme has multiple versions and playes in all kind of moments. That has not changed that much.

For Quistis it must have been really frustrating. She felt connected to Squall and wanted to be close to him, at least as a friend, if nothing else, but he refused her time and time again. And then he dances with a random girl on that ball on the day Quistis lost her job. The frustration must be piling up at this point and Squall isn't helping with his attitude.

I found it surprising tho that he did pick up on that. He always seems like he doesn't care, but maybe he actually is just really bad at showing it.

Probably because of Seifer... But can you really blame her for his mistakes?

I wonder if someone ever told her they would have some memory problems? I mean... did she expect that they remember her?

Poor guy. He had one hell of a day yesterday and after barely a few hours of sleep he already has to be thrown into the most hideous SeeD mission there ever was. I guess he has inherited his fathers questionable luck, huh? ^^' (I mean, despite a lot of things going wrong, Laguna always ended up in a situation were he got what he needed in the end... mostly, that is.)

[fightingthetides]

Roberto was concerned when Nunnally walked in behind Ravein, worried that she may have felt forced to come back. The last interaction didn’t end on the most positive note, but that didn’t mean he disliked her. He understood that some of her comments then came from a place of innocence and ignorance to Ravein’s past. It wasn’t like he could expect her to know the full extent of his past, so it was understandable.

Still, as Ravein’s relative, he did feel some kind of responsibility for him, and he may have been a bit touchy given Ravein’s precarious mental state. She may have been uncomfortable (or shy?), but she didn’t seem to hate coming by again if his read into her body language was correct. She asked for some warm milk with honey and hint of cinnamon, “Certainly, that can be made ready for you shortly.” Warm milk sounded like a lovely beverage to have when wanting to be calm.

He gets to preparing the two drinks for the two newest customers, preparing Ravein’s hot cocoa in his own personal mug, and Nunnally’s in a earthen green mug. He thinks to himself that he may consider purchasing a personal mug for Nunnally’s use later on if she turns out to be a repeat visitor. Time would tell after this visit, he thinks.

Ravein, was a bit lost when it came to reading body language, or understanding cues. He stared at her hand on the table and he placed his hand next to hers, assuming this was simply something people did, put their hands on the table. He didn’t clue into the fact that she was inviting him to take it or cover her hand with his. He did notice just how much of a size difference there was between their hands. His was larger, and there was also a difference in the fact that her hands looked soft and smooth. His were rougher with a few light scars littered across the surface of his skin. A true telling of the life he’d led up until now.

He remembered how it felt to hold hands earlier, and he could internally remark how she had warm hands. He could recall his mother saying before that warm hearted people had warm hands, and he could assume that to be the truth if he had Nunnally and Roberto to serve as examples. He wasn’t too sure what she meant by ‘it’, but he assumed she meant to meet more often, to further cultivate their friendship. To try something new every time to expand his dealings with the world around him. He nods his head in response.

Whatever it was that she meant, he felt inclined to agree so as long as they could spend more time together. Admittedly, it was a bit frightening to try to open up to someone else, given the fact that the last time he did so it ended horribly—but at the very least he had Roberto to help him with his anxieties and his judgement to assuage him on who judging who a good and bad character.

“Hopefully I’ve got the ratio just right for you miss. Do tell me if I can make adjustments to better suit your taste in the future.” Roberto comes by the table and sets the two mugs in front of the two and walks back to his station, but not without giving the two a pleasant smile. Ravein cups the mug with his two hands, to enjoy how warm it felt against his palms. He takes a sip, enjoying the sweet and richness of the warm beverage. It was a taste of his childhood.

He nods his head at her question, he had a bit of a sweet tooth. Or rather, his parents did, so he simply grew up to appreciate sweet flavors. He does make a mental note that Nunnally wasn’t too partial to things that were too sweet. He points to her drink, as if to ask if hers was sweet. Bringing out the notebook, he jots something down before he points at his mug.

[Family recipe]

He points again at her mug. Perhaps her drink also held a sentimental value for her?

She smiled when he nodded. It was a shy smile, but deep inside Nunnally was happy that she did the right thing. That she was able to (properly) guess the needs of other person. Of Ravein to be more exact. It had been long since she actually cared for anyone but herself, and doing it again…was a nice change. She didn’t understand what was going on with her (and why), but it was definitely happening because of Ravein.

“You’re welcome.” – she had so many more words she could add, but in that very moment Nunnally thought that it was enough what she had just said. It was nice to have that silent understanding between them, even if it was yet nothing (too) deep…?

She followed Ravein; a bit confused on where they were going, but she had learnt to trust him. Nunnally wasn't speaking during that walk of theirs as she thought they both needed some silence and solitude. So, there they were together and alone at the same time until they arrived at the familiar café. Then a bit of hesitation crept into Nunnally’s heart. Her last visit here did not end too well. Would Roberto welcome her here? Would he be happy to see Ravein hanging around with her? Surely, she did know it was Ravein’s decision, but having to face Roberto’s opposition did not feel nice. And she would not blame him for that reluctance if she were to be honest with herself. She tried to hide these feelings, this anxiety inside her (and hopefully neither Ravein nor Roberto were able to notice how confused she had become), but she was not sure what her face did (or did not) show. Not so long ago, she was able to put on the mask of the porcelain doll, pretty, but emotionless, to protect herself from everyone and everything, but Nunnally was aware that mask was cracking (if not completely cracked already).

Roberto’s words were kind, but they were what she expected. But did his eyes match his words? But Nunnally didn’t want to stare at the older man too intensely.

“It’s…it’s a pleasure to see you again.” – and it was in a way; oddly she liked the place (and its owner) even if she was here only once. It was actually cozier than she remembered. Surely, she would change a thing or two there, perhaps to give it a more feminine (or modern) touch, but it wasn't that she did not like the place itself. She often liked to think how she’d have changed the places around her. Kind of a game of hers to pass her time.  

“I’d like some…” – she wanted to say tea, but in the middle of speaking she had changed her mind – “I’d like a glass of warm milk. With some honey and a hint of cinnamon…”

“…if that’d of course not too much trouble…” – she didn’t know why she opted for a drink from her childhood; a comfort one as she would say if asked to describe it – “I…it was…”

“I feel like something different…something special…” – she sent Roberto a warm smile and even warmer was sent to Ravein as he invited her to sit next to him. She sat there, moving her chair even closer to him. Nunnally put her hand of the table reaching to Ravein. Inviting him to take it or simply to cover her small pale hand with his larger one. But she wouldn’t force him to do it.

“I think we should do it more often.” – she did not add much more leaving it to him to decide what she meant by ‘it’. Going out? Coming here? Hugging?

“Is the cocoa you’re taking really sweet? I feel like trying it to learn what things you enjoy…but sweet is not really…my taste. Too sweet anyway.”

[anxiouslyfred]

Cafe Extravaganza

Summary: Remy finally takes Virgil, Remus and Janus on the date he mentioned upon learning he was dating them all.

Part of the Vampiceit AU @lostcephalopods/@loveceit and I have tried my best to remember and not contradict anything written before

/\/\

It had once formed in a dream. That was how most of the places Remy claimed as his came about: Thomas saw something or had an idea that Remy decided to play with for a dream or two and the imagination formed them, nearly always within Roman's claimed area of the imagination.

Now Remy wasn't one for claiming spirit animals, star signs, or patronuses, whatever was appropriate for a white guy to claim he has, but he was definitely someone who could appreciate cute animals that curled up warm and cosy to sleep. That described Red Panda's perfectly from how he and Thomas understood them. They were cuddly goofy little creatures that just loved finding somewhere to curl up.

And the cafe that formed one dream reflected that.

Roman had initially assumed it was a cat cafe when he discovered it, only for Remy to laugh, sipping his drink and point through the plant life to a curl of orange in the trees. “Try again, Princey.” He'd said, letting Roman look around more before deciding to ask for the cafe to remain forever.

Now Remy had dates. He had people he wanted to take on dates and he was going to bring them all here. Hopefully between the three they could keep Remus from harming any of his red pandas.

/\/\

“How the hell have you got a jungle growing through a building?” Virgil was staring around them, occasionally pushing at the logs that made the cafe walls as if checking their stability.

“Don't ask me about the reasoning of the imagination, Babes, that's not my area.” Remy crooned, wrapping an arm over his shoulder.

He turned at the cheerful cackle behind them. “Nope, that's mine and I say it just decides things. Especially when making from dreams, Logan is not consulted. Or Roman battles him if he tries to be. I love watching those, sometimes even help the unimaginative one, just cause Logic has no place here.” Remus agreed, climbing over one section of wall.

“Answering no questions as usual.” Remy snarked, before blinking into a frown. “What are you trying to feed Reeses?”

“Algae gloop.” Remus helpfully replied, hoping down and holding it to the pair as if inviting them to eat it now.

Janus sighed behind them where they'd been looking up at a few sleeping red pandas. “We'd prefer not to have Remy refuse to ever bring us here again. How about you don't give potentially poisonous snacks to his pets.”

“I'll just make it so things can't poison them. Red pandas who can eat anything they like.” Remus insisted without a seconds thought.

Remy's frown didn't budge, just turned more thoughtful. “How come Roman never suggested that? He knows how I love my cuddlebears.”

“Caaaauuuuuusssse He's Boooorrrrrringggg.” Remus droned out. “Always wants things to either be a fairytale or as close to Thomas's real world as possible to make the daydreams seem achievable.”

“It's true. Makes my job harder to caution Thomas about things when he's also imagining the plants needing watering, or the bills being too high.” Virgil agreed. “Why give Thomas anxiety about his actual bills, or killing the plants he already has, when Roman wants me to give him it over imaginary stuff that's stuck in daydreams for the future?”

Remy would have replied except the panda closest to them had decided to treat him as one of the trees and climb along his arm onto Virgil. “Why, Cuties, are we all talking about your jobs in the brain when we could be enjoying the fluffy beauty that's here? Plus the coffee cake is murderously good.”

“Murder? I've got to try that!” Remus immediately ran off to find the cakes and counter of the cafe. “And do you mean murders are involved in making it, or that people would murder each other to try it?”

“If I say the latter are you planning to run off and find someone to murder before letting us get drinks and cakes?” Remy threw back with a smirk, pushing his sunglasses to his forehead now.

“Good Plan! I'll go find Roman!” Remus was darting past them to the entrance when Virgil and Janus both stretched an arm out to catch and stop him.

Virgil just snickered while Janus smirked again.

“How about instead of that you find a table to start figuring out how a murder could be consistently included in a cake recipe without it being cannibalism.” They suggested instead.

“Like, Honey Badger, there are tables just past those vines. You sit there, get to work on letting my pandas eat anything without getting poisoned, but better keep a preference for the actual food they'd normally eat. I'll get the cake for you and coffee for me. What're my Babes and my Dear drinking today?” Remy clicked his fingers while pointing, already heading in a slightly different direction, Virgil and red panda in tow.

“Blood. I assume you can make them serve that so I'm not biting one of you at our table.” Janus drawled, ignoring the arm Remus flung into the air as if volunteering.

Remy nodded, now smiling over at Virgil. “You got it, Dear.”

“A chocolate milkshake and some lemon drizzle cake. I know you've got more than coffee cake here, do not lie.” Virgil requested, eyes narrowing as soon as Remy's smirk turned teasing and he started to shake his head.

“Coming right up, Babes. This place is cool, right?” He asked, looking for approval of the place. Remy had always been sure it would be a good date location but now he was here, and had partners he'd barely allowed himself to imagine dating when helping Virgil join Remus and Janus, it felt like he needed validation over his choice of location.

Virgil smirked as if realising that too. “Course it is, Rems. Definitely a relaxing way to experience the jungle. Even if I've become a red panda's bed.”

“They know you're cuddly, just like we do.” Remy teased, turning to the counter where someone clearly made to be a citizen by Roman was waiting.

They'd found love, and as mad as it seemed, it felt perfect.