#the look is incomplete without some chest hair poking out

[alannah-corvaine]

ᴀʀᴅʙᴇʀᴛ + ᴍᴇᴛɪᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛɪʀᴇ

[racheyace]

Not a Horse

So…I did not mean for this to be so long! I’m doing a short writing course just to brush up on my skills and was given a prompt ‘You’re a veterinarian and one night an old man barges into your clinic with an animal you never thought was real.’

Now the idea came to me straight away and I sort of ran away with it! The exercise was to write a paragraph, I wrote ten pages…whoops.

Anyway, this is right up G/t alley including found family, hurt/comfort, two itty bitty brothers, a flustered Vet and a gruff old man. I really hope you enjoy it! These are all new characters, and I may or may not write more with them, that will depend how much you are all interested in this story continuing or not.

TW: mentions death of a parent, untrue veterinarian diagnostics (don’t come at me, I know nothing about medicine)

Approx 4.2k words

Elijah was in for another long night in the clinic.

It had seemed like such a good idea to start his own veterinary clinic, running his own staff and hours, he hadn’t accounted for the long nights and endless stacks of paperwork.

Yelden was a small rural community, a farm town he had grown up in. For the longest time, the nearest veterinary clinic was at least a two-hour drive away. When Elijah graduated university, he made it his dream to start his own Veterinary practice in Yelden, a farm community without a local vet just seemed ridiculous to him.

To no one’s surprise he got busy very quickly and his business was booming, he was doing it mostly on his own though and this resulted in him quickly becoming burnt out. He had no days off, no time to visit his family, no time to keep a pet of his own and certainly no time to have a social or love life of any kind.

Eventually he began letting the younger veterinary assistants take on most of the cases while he tried to keep his head above the growing ocean of incomplete forms and bills.

Tonight was another one of those nights, looking at the clock he noted it was getting far to close to one AM way too quickly. He groaned and dragged his hands through his wavy brown hair and then down his face, trying to hold back the urge to bang his head against his desk.

“Help!!”

Elijah raised his head quickly, suddenly becoming alert, there was silence and for a moment he thought perhaps he was becoming delirious and then he heard it again.

“Please someone help!”

Elijah clumsily rushed to the door of the clinic and pulled the doors open to reveal an elderly man soaking wet as rain pelted down on his thin greying head. When had it started raining?

Elijah ushered the man inside quickly and sat him down on the couch reserved for people waiting for their animals to come out or to go in. Elijah floundered about looking for some towels and practically threw them at the man before turning the kettle on and starting to make a cup of coffee.

“Don’t worry about me!” The man snapped, pushing the towels off his shoulders, it was only now Elijah noticed the man was cradling something to his chest between two hands.

“Help him please!” The man begged, shakily holding his hands out to show the vet, Elijah stepped forward.

He had expected to see an injured bird, perhaps a sick pet mouse, instead his brain felt like it was glitching as he tried to make sense of the creature cradled across this old man’s fingers.

It looked to be human for the most part, two arms, two legs, a pale face that held two eyes, a nose and a mouth. What stood out to Elijah and clarified that this wasn’t in fact a miniature human, was the fact that poking out of his long auburn hair were two pointed ears and what looked like butterfly wings were folded gently against his back.

Was it possible he was looking at a real fairy? Elijah also wondered on the possibility that this crazy old man could have also just brought in a doll thinking it was a fairy. The man seemed so concerned though, so worried about the small creature curled up in his palms.

Elijah snapped out of it when he realized the old man was still urgently begging him to help, unsure of what else to say he simply nodded his head and lead the man into an examination room.

Elijah waited for the man to put the creature down on the metal table and when he didn’t, he realized the table would be too cold for the already wet and obviously sick creature. He folded a towel and laid it down on the table over the top of a heat mat he usually used for lizards or similar creatures. He gestured for the man to now place the fairy on the towel so he could begin his examination.

“Please Doctor, what’s wrong with him?” The old man breathed down his neck while Elijah held a stethoscope to the little guy’s chest, the rounded metal end covered the poor things entire torso.

“I’m not a doctor sir, I’m a Vet.” Elijah said patiently, listening intently to the creature’s fast heartbeats.

“He’s not human.” The old man reasoned. “Doctors treat humans, I figured this would be the best place. Please, there has to be something you can do.”

“He’s also not a horse, his anatomy is not familiar to me.” Elijah snapped, he took a calming breath before continuing again more calmly.

“His heart rate is fast, but I do not know if that’s normal for him or not, birds of a similar size have a resting heat rate that is this fast.” He tried to explain.

He pulled up a magnifying glass and decided to observe the small creature’s other symptoms. He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his body was shivering even now that he was dry and on top of a heating mat. Elijah picked up a thermometer and cringed at the idea of putting it where he might usually put it on an animal, he instead pried the little guys mouth open and hoped he might get an accurate reading that way.

While he waited for the thermometer to read the creatures body temperature, he asked the man some more questions. “What are his symptoms? And for how long as he been unconscious?”

“H-he started to get sick about four days ago, he would get hot and cold flushes, there were moments he was coughing so much I could hear him wheezing, he said his chest was sore, and then tonight he passed out and I couldn’t get him to wake up!” The man answered urgently.

Elijah nodded his head, brain scanning for a possible diagnosis, it sounded like a common cold that had possibly developed into a chest infection or pneumonia, but he really had nothing to go on. For all he knew it could be a fairy disease that is incurable, human or even animal treatments may only make this worse.

“Well?” The man asked impatiently.

“I-I don’t know.” Elijah said quietly. “It sounds like a chest infection of some kind, but I have nothing to compare him to, I’ve never worked on this kind of creature before and-“

“Compare him to me!”

Elijah’s eyes landed on yet another Fairy that was now poking his head out of the old man’s chest pocket, the man quickly pushed the flap down to hide him once more, but the small creature inside kept on pushing it back up.

“It’s okay Ray, I can help, please let me help.” The new Fairy pleaded up at the old man who was apparently called Ray.

Ray looked at Elijah with caution, his blue-grey eyes telling Elijah that if any harm came to the little guy that Elijah would pay.

“Fine.” Ray said through gritted teeth. “Just…Be careful.”

The small fairy then leapt out of the pocket, wings flickered and flapped quickly, they held the same yellow and black colours as the sick fairy, both fairies also held similar facial features, though this fairy looked much younger.

The new Fairy flew directly in front of the Vet’s face almost making him go cross eyed, his eyebrows raised skyward as he waited for the little guy to make the first move. He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Compare me to my brother, I’m healthy and I feel fine, I want to help.” The child insisted, hands held together in a pleading gesture.

Elijah cleared his throat before attempting to reply calmly so not to scare the little guy.

“O-okay, uh, l-lay down please.” Elijah said nervously.

The smaller fairy did as he was told and landed beside his brother on the warm towel, he leant down to speak into his brother’s ear. “You’re going to be okay Kells, we’re going to make you all better.”

He then lay down on his back, wings splayed out comfortably under him and he waited for the Vet to continue. His child like features smiling up at the large man with an amused expression dancing on his face.

“Do I scare you, Doctor?” The younger fairy asked.

Elijah shook his head, shaking the absurdity of this whole case out of his mind, instead he put on his best bedside manners and smiled gently at the child.

“Actually, you do, you’re not going to crawl into my ears and lay eggs, are you?” Elijah asked, he put his stethoscope back to his ears and held the metal plate to the child’s chest.

“That would be creepy and besides Fairies don’t lay eggs, so you have nothing to worry about Doc.” He watched as the Vet carefully placed the metal plate on his chest and shivered upon contact with his bare skin.

Elijah pulled away immediately and Ray tensed beside him. “S-sorry, did that hurt?”

The child laughed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just very cold!”

Both Elijah and Ray breathed a sigh of relief, and he placed the stethoscope back onto the boy’s chest.

This time the heartbeat was slower, almost a normal human heart rate. He stepped back scratching the dark stubble on his chin, and then remembered to check the thermometer, the sick Fairy’s temperate was 42 degrees. He then compared it to the younger brother’s temperature which was 36 degrees.

“What’s the verdict Doc?” The Fairy boy asked.

“I’m not a Doctor, I’m a veterinarian.” Elijah said, still thinking about his next course of action.

“Vetabluar-“ The young boy tried to say the word, causing Elijah to laugh.

“I’m a Vet kid, but you can call me Elijah.” He said with amusement.

“I’m Pip!” The child said with excitement. “That’s Ray and this is my big brother Kells…You can help him, right?”

“It’s nice to meet you Pip.” Elijah said gently and then turned somber. “Kells is very sick, I’m fairly certain he has what Humans call, Pneumonia. Which basically means a bug had caused Kells to become sick and then he’s developed an infection in his lungs and airways.”

Pip looked up at Elijah with wide eyes, clearly not understanding much about what was being said, but it all sounded serious, all he really wanted to know was that his brother would get better.

“But why won’t he wake up?” Pip asked.

“Well, it is rare but in some serious cases of Pneumonia your body will go into survival mode, this means his body has put him to sleep so that he will hopefully heal and breath better.” Elijah tried to explain.

“So, he’s healing himself?” Pip asked, trying to make sure he was understanding correctly.

“Not exactly, he’s trying to heal himself to prolong his life, but in cases like this, if he doesn’t get some antibiotics soon he may-“

“What are you waiting for then, give him the antibiotics.” Ray jumped in, he didn’t want to even fathom the possibility of Kells dying from this.

“I will have to guess the dosage…” Elijah started, mind wondering to his foggy mathematics brain and trying to estimate how much antibiotics would be safe for the small creature.

“Then guess the dosage!” Ray urged.

“Pass me the scales from over there.” Elijah said gesturing to his desk.

“0.1mls per 20 grams, a mouse weighs about 30 grams, I suspect he will be lighter than that.” Elijah rambled on quietly as the scales were placed on the examination table beside the two Fairies.

Elijah put on a new pair of gloves and then gently nudged the sick young man so that he was laying on his side across his four fingers, so small.

“Please be careful!” Pip piped up from beside the Vet’s occupied hand, Elijah gave him a reassuring nod and then gently laid the Fairy down on the scales.

“32 grams, so if I give him just over 0.1ml…” Elijah trailed off writing his calculations down. “Do I include his wings in the weight? If they are connected to the nervous system, then blood will circulate through them and then yes I do…”

“Can you do it?” Ray asked again, growing more and more impatient.

“Well…” He turned his green-eyed gaze down to Pip. “If your wings bump into something, can you feel it?”

Pip nodded. ”Oh yeah, it really hurts!”

“And if you scrape or cut the wing, does it bleed?” This question caused Pip to take a nervous step backwards.

“You’re not going to cut his wings off are you?” He asked, suddenly growing frightful of the Human.

“I would never do such a thing Pip, I promise. I just need to know if blood circulates through the wings.” He tried to explain, Elijah also realized he was looming over the two brothers rather closely and stood straighter, moving back to give the boys space.

Pip regained his naturally tanned complexion and his shoulders slumped in relief. “Phew, okay that’s great to know, and uh yeah, we have blood in our wings.”

Elijah smiled softly and then turned to look through the medicine cabinet, he found the bottle of Amoxicillin which he frankly only guessed would be appropriate for a fairy and then pulled out a small needle, the sort of needle he would use on a bird or a mouse. He poked the needle into the bottle and then measured very carefully, the dosage he calculated would be appropriate for the small young man.

With the needle primed and ready to go, he turned back toward his patient, stopping briefly to explain to the others in the room what he intended to do. He suspected seeing a comparatively huge needle beside Kells would definitely freak Pip out and he was right in his suspicions as he looked at Pip whose eyes had become saucers again.

“This is a needle.” Elijah said holding it out horizontally in front of the younger brother. “It has medicine inside. This end is sharp and will pierce his skin so that the medicine can go directly into his bloodstream.” He explained.

Pip nodded slowly and gulped, little blue eyes fixed on the sharp end, it seemed to catch the light and glinted at him menacingly.

“It won’t hurt him.” Elijah assured. “I would normally administer this orally- uh by his mouth, but this will allow his body to absorb the medicine faster.” He explained.

“Pip, could you hold his sleeve up for me?” Elijah asked gently.

Pip did as he was instructed, unlike the younger Fairy who wore a brown open hanging vest, his sick brother wore a long-sleeved tunic of the same colour, presumably to keep him warm and to try and stop his shivering. Pip rolled up the loose shirt until his brother’s bicep was visible, he held it there steadily, trying in vain to appear braver than he currently felt.

“Perfect.” Elijah smiled encouragingly.

Then with a deep breath to stop his own hand from shaking, he gently pushed the needle into Fairy’s skin and slowly injected the medicine into his bloodstream. With a small cotton ball at the ready, he pulled the needle out and held the cotton ball to the pinprick of blood that welled, he then used a cut up bit of tape to hold the cotton ball there.

“Done, now I’ll need to continue to administer this to him every six hours over the next day, and then every twelve hours for up to a week. I’ll also see about getting some fluids and nutrients into him as well, my hope is that if this is working, we should see him wake up in the next twenty-four hours.” Elijah said, taking off his gloves and packing away the supplies he’d gotten out.

“Thank you, Elijah!” Pip all but shrieked, wings flapping, the small boy dived at the Human’s hand and wrapped his arms around two of his fingers giving them a hug.

“I-Uh-y-you’re welcome.” Elijah said flustered, he then looked toward Ray as though asking, is this normal?

“You get used to it.” Ray chuckled, watching the scene unfold with warmth in his eyes.

“And uh-how long have you known Pip and Kells?” Elijah asked, now that the emergency had been dealt with, he was positively brimming with questions.

Pip flew back over to Ray and settled comfortably on the old man’s shoulder, leaning tiredly against his neck, eyes growing heavy. Ray accepted a cup of coffee and they all sat down together around Kells as Ray explained how he had in fact come across the two brothers.

It had been almost ten years ago; Ray had found Kells cradling his little brother who would have only been six years old at the time. Kells, who had been ten years old was teaching his little brother how to fly, their parents had gone missing the year before, leaving Kells to care for his baby brother. During the flying lesson an Eagle had spotted them and given chase, though they had managed to escape, they had both hit the ground hard and Kells had been trying to calm his brother down.

Ray had found them during a regular hike of his and though the boys were untrusting of him at first, they had accepted his offer of food and warmth for the evening after their harrowing ordeal. And then they never left. Ray had taken them out to the same forest numerous times in search of their parents, but they had never found any trace of them.

Eventually the brothers came to accept that the safest place for them was with Ray, even as they grew up, they found they didn’t want to leave, they had come to love him like a father.

“They were lucky to have found you, it looks like you are taking good care of them.” Elijah said quietly, noticing the young boy had since begun snoring on his adoptive father’s shoulder.

“I feel lucky to have found them.” Ray replied in a whisper. “Since my wife passed away, I had felt so lonely, only the day before I’d found the boys I’d thought seriously about ending it all together, I just didn’t feel like living without her. They gave me a reason to stay, they saved me.”

Elijah’s heart broke then, tears welled in his green eyes and he fought the real urge to pull them all into a hug. He considered himself to be a relatively hard man, but he had now been awake for almost an entire day, discovered the existence of fairies and then heard the sob story of the century. He was done holding himself together today.

Wiping at his eyes, he was jolted out of his own emotions by the chime of the clinic door being opened. Ray stiffened as well, hand flying up to protect Pip from being seen even though they were behind a closed door.

“It’s seven o clock already? Um I’ll go handle that.” Elijah said sniffling and standing up headed for the door.

“I’m going to lock this door, none of the staff will bother you, I’ll tell them there is a patient in isolation, I’m the only one with a key. Oh, and I’m going to bring a bed in, so that you can get some rest, it looks like you all need some.” Elijah added as he ducked out of the room and locked the door behind himself.

After giving his staff, a stern warning not to enter the room under any circumstances, and an updated list of appointments for the day, Elijah made his way to his own office. He slumped down on the couch and immediately fell asleep, it felt like he’d only closed his eyes for a few minutes before a pounding could be heard at his door.

“Sorry Elijah, there’s someone calling for you from the isolation room.” Annette called from the other side of the door.

Elijah’s blinked sleep away and noted it was now late afternoon, he’d slept most of the day, but it still didn’t feel like quite enough. He’d set an alarm earlier in the day to give Kells his next dose of antibiotics but that been the only time he’d woken.

He pushed himself up from the couch, straightened his now unruly hair back down and then opened the door. He thanked Annette and reiterated that he and Ray were the only ones permitted to enter or leave that room.

Though she seemed unsure about his request, she did agree and passed this information on to the two other staff members currently in the clinic.

Elijah ducked into the room, locking the door once more from the inside and he looked to Ray first, he was ready to ask what was wrong when a small cough came from the examination table.

“He’s awake! Elijah! Kells is getting better!!” Pip hollered from beside his brother who he was clutching to furiously.

Elijah couldn’t hide the relief from his face, he sat down in his chair and observed the now conscious Fairy. He still looked quite pale, and that cough sounded rather wet, but he was awake, that had to mean he had done something right.

“Hi Kells.” He began gently, noting the apprehension on Kells face immediately. “I’m Elijah, how are you feeling?”

Kells looked between his brother and Ray who both gave him encouraging nods of their heads, he then cleared his sore throat.

“Alive I guess, I’m hungry.” Kells shrugged weakly.

Elijah’s smile broadened. “Of course, I’ll get some soup ready for you in a moment, but do you mind if I examine you first?”

Kells couldn’t have turned a paler shade. “Examine?”

“I’d like to listen to your chest and take your temperature.” Elijah explained patiently, holding up his stethoscope and thermometer.

“It doesn’t hurt Kells, he’s done the same to me, it will help him see if you’re getting better.” Pip jumped in, giving his brother’s arm a squeeze.

Kells agreed hesitantly and Elijah made fast work of the examination so to put Kells at ease.

“Your temperature has gone down a little and your heart rate is still a little faster than I’d like but it’s also much better than last night. You’re improving.” Elijah said.

Ray crushed the tired Vet in a hug with tears in his blue-grey eyes. “Thank you so much, I don’t know what we would have done if we’d lost him, thank you.”

“It’s been my pleasure, and I want you to know that your secret is safe with me. I would also like you all to stay here for the next few days at least, just to give the antibiotics a chance to really work….but if you’d prefer to be at home, I can work around that to, I can come by twice a day to make sure Kells is getting his doses.” Elijah rambled on.

“Ray?” Kells called up to the old man.

“Yes, my boy?” Ray was down on his knees, eye level with the Fairies immediately.

“Can we go home?” Kells asked quietly.

Ray nodded and curled a wrinkled hand around the young man’s shoulders, resting his fingers there in a gentle sort of hug. “Of course we can.”

After getting the all clear from Elijah, Ray settled the brothers back into his pocket and Elijah informed them that he would stop by later tonight for Kells next dose of antibiotics. Elijah walked Ray to the door, finding it hard to say goodbye to them, he hadn’t even known them that long and yet his heart begged for him to reach out, make friends, even if they were absurdly tiny friends.

“I’ll see you soon then, and uh, just call if you have any concerns or anything really.” Elijah said awkwardly, looking down at his shoes.

“Will do, thanks again Doc.” Ray nodded once and then turned to leave.

“Bye Elijah!” He heard Pip call from within the pocket.

Elijah laughed. “Not a doctor, bye Pip.”

Elijah closed the door, reluctant to get back to reality, his staff had left for the evening, and he was sat at his desk once again with a stack of unfinished paperwork. His mind couldn’t wonder far from Kells and Pip though.

Ray had said they had saved him from dying of loneliness, Elijah couldn’t help but wonder and hope that perhaps they might do the same for him.

[hanayumi]

“𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫”

—ft. childe, scaramouche, albedo, kazuha, thoma || sfw

you ask; they answer.

q: what makes a saturday morning with childe?

answer: it’s like emerging from a long long nap in hibernation. only to find out that a big bear has you caught in its claws.

it’s waking up not because you want to but because he’s slobbering all over your cheek in his sleep, his arm tightening every time you try to dislodge yourself, with his gruff, dream-induced murmurs about ice-fishing and sword techniques rumbling in his chest all while the rest of the world goes through a rebirth outside the window (someone forgot to close the curtains last night, i wonder who). it’s suppressing the urge to shut your eyes and slip back into an undisturbed sleep — as undisturbed as you can be when he’s clinging to you like an oversized koala — but of course you can’t because by now he’s already awake and eagerly kissing your neck. sloppy man.

it’s his sleepy chuckle when you poke his cheek because you both know he will never stop drooling no matter how many times you whine; it’s the crinkle of the sheets when he rolls over anyway, bringing your squealing body with him, pressing a loving kiss to your awaiting lips and briefly deciding, well, it couldn’t hurt to sleep in once in a while. (once in a while = all the time)

q: an inside look into balladeer scaramouche’s mind?

answer: it’s filled with everything that it should be. darkness, destruction, and his pure, sweet darling.

mindless musings, y’know, about how he’d give a kidney to hear you laugh just one more time, about your adorable giggles and snickers and ugly chortles and how he loves all of them, about how the next time he has to leave he’ll bring you back the flowers that you wanted — tuck one into your hair and maybe just maybe admit that you look prettier than anything he’s ever fucking seen, but god knows he won’t because feelings am i right?

it’s regularly having a dilemma over which part of you he adores the most — your cheeks that he pinches until you squeal or your lips that he kisses until you’re breathless, or your forehead that he presses his forehead against at night just to feel your warm breath tickle his nose, or your neck that he buries his face into whenever people around start discussing stupid shit that he doesn’t have the mental capacity for, or your hands that his hands always feel empty and incomplete without them filling the gaps — but fuck it he decides he loves it all.

hint: best not to disturb him when he’s pondering about these. if you catch him in the act his face will put a tomato to shame.

q: how do i confirm that albedo is head-over-heels in love with me?

answer: simple. you never have to — he tells you himself.

in the mornings before he leaves for work, in the evenings when you come pick him up (before he starts working overtime) and he reminds you just how much he’s grateful for you, in the nighttime when he holds you so very close to his heart and whispers that he adores you, every part of you. and afterwards the slow hum of his heartbeat reverberating in his chest tells you all you need to know.

he tells you in ways beyond words too.

tucking you under his arm safe and sound when a chilly gust blows past, throwing his jacket over your shoulders so you stay warm in the winters, giving you hot, creamy soup that he made himself (a little too piping hot but that’s what you love about him), always ready with an umbrella when it’s summer and you’re dying for some shade, letting you hog the blanket all you want because he loves when you’re possessive (though he prefers when you’re like this with him), kissing you goodnight, good morning, goodbye and hello —

well, people do say that he hates talking, but when it comes to you? he’d talk your goddamn ears off if you so desired.

q: where can i find kazuha?

answer: more often than not, wherever you are.

when you come home from work, look no further than the railing of your open-air balcony. he’s always there, sitting with two cups of tea (one for you and one for him), waiting for you to come look at the stars with him — look, that one’s in the shape of your name, he smiles. sometimes he shows you poems that he wrote about a love so deep it was written in the stars. (you didn’t believe in such things before you met him)

if he isn’t there then he’ll be in the bathroom, slipping rose petals into an apple-scented bubble bath. come join him, won’t you? afterwards he’ll take you on a midnight stroll. his hand never leaves yours because, well, it’s hard not to be clingy when all he wants to do is stay with you forever.

and it’s tough, you know, having a heart that longs to wander… yet gravitates permanently to you all the same. he finds himself hard-pressed to leave on eons-long voyages now; struggles to walk away from you without kissing you at least twice. but if there’s one thing for sure — his soft smile never fails to promise a lifetime of doting kisses and affection. there’s more where that came from.

q: what is thoma hiding?

answer: well, that’s for you to find out, isn’t it?

come a little closer. put your hand in his and play with his fingers in that way he adores. yea, he loves to be held — but only if it’s you. sometimes he truly feels that your hands were made to fit with his, but he’d rather eat a chili whole than admit something so sappy. look, he’d never keep secrets from you if he could help it! now what was that about the missing pots and pans?

((shh! don’t tell anyone, but he’s got a very veeery elaborate surprise planned for your anniversary.))

it involves roses and romantic background music and all your favourite dishes, prepared with love by yours truly. of course its deliciousness is not a guarantee, but just to reassure you — he’s just about scoured every single cookbook he found at yae publishing house. throw in a little consultation with ayaka and he’s already got the whole banquet planned from start to finish (and what comes after included). he wants it to be perfect. he wants everything you ever mentioned that you liked to be present — of course, that includes him. but it’s so hard, keeping things a secret, when you keep looking at him like that.

with stars in your eyes and sweet warm adoration and ah, it only makes him want to get on one knee sooner than planned.

[animalanie]

Oneshot - The Millionaire Detective Balance: Unlimited [Careless Mistakes]

Fandom: The Millionaire Detective Balance: Unlimited

Title: Careless Mistakes

Pairing: Daisuke Kambe X Female Reader

Word Count: +2K

Warning(s): None, just an attempt at fluff <3

Requested on Wattpad

A/N: Thanks a lot for requesting this. I'm not too used to writing fluff XP but I hope you like it! I had loads of fun writing it!

If you enjoyed my work and want to look for more, here is my masterlist. Or you could request here from any of these shows!

A grunt escaped your lips as you banged your head against the steering wheel, not caring if the impact will cause a bruise on your forehead. The sirens in the distance indicated that your much-needed backup was finally arriving at the crime scene, where you and your partner had incapacitated the culprit. With some remaining energy, you lifted your head to stare at the police cars that stopped not too far away from where you sat in your car.

Knowing your partner would take care of filling them in on the situation, you rested your head once more and slowly ran your hand through your hair.

"I just want to go home," You complained and closed your eyes, only to open them soon as the passenger side's door opened. You did not need to turn your head as you already knew who it was and simply stayed still in the same position. No words were exchanged as he sat down and closed the door behind him, continuing to stare at you, as if he were analysing you.

"You look tired." He finally concluded and you snorted before pushing yourself off the wheel.

"No way, thanks for letting me know." You rested your head against the seat and turned to look at him as he stared back at you in curiosity.

"No, I meant you look more tired than usual. Something terrible must have happened." He shook his head and poked your forehead to irritate you further. You gasped and swatted his hand away, bringing your own on the steering wheel before you mentally prepared yourself to start the car.

"You could've said it nicely, you know?" You spared him a brief glance from the corner of your eyes before turning the key in the ignition.

"I could have, yes." He smirked in your direction as he waited for your reaction, which was exactly what he expected.

"Daisuke~" You groaned and hit him lightly on his right shoulder, causing him to chuckle. "Why do I spend time with you?" You mumbled to yourself as you changed gears but stopped before you could start driving. You exhaled and closed your eyes, feeling them burning from lack of sleep.

"What's wrong?" His playful tone disappeared the instant you drooped your head and placed it onto the steering wheel. Daisuke brought his hand closer to your face and gently moved your strands to tuck them behind your ear. His fingers lingered, almost cradling your head in his hands, as he focused his attention on your expression.

"It's probably nothing, I hope." You shook your head and turned to him to see him furrowing his eyebrows. He moved his hand from behind your head and closer to your face to rub a gentle thumb across your cheek as he continued staring.

"When is the last time you got any rest?" He looked up into your eyes but you turned your gaze away as you knew your answer would displease him. "Y/N, when's the last time you rested?" He repeated and you raised your eyes to meet his.

"I haven't slept since the last two nights." You whispered and shifted back in fear of his response. To your surprise, he only sighed and shook his head.

"I can't even pretend to be surprised anymore." He said to himself before removing his hand from your cheek and getting out of the car. You tilted your head as you stared at him while he walked around the front of the car and to your side.

"Daisuke?" You asked as he opened your side of the door and bent over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. You stared at his profile in shock and froze at the sudden proximity, while he smoothly removed the belt and gave your knee a little nudge afterward.

"Sit on the other side. I'll drive." As much as you appreciated the sentiment, you knew better than to trust Daisuke's reckless driving.

"No, it's okay. I can drive," You waved your hand lightly in dismissal and remained seated, smiling a little in hopes of winning this argument. But when Daisuke made no effort to move back to the passenger's seat, you sighed and slumped your shoulders.

"I will pick you up myself if you don't get up." He warned and looked down at you for a response. You remained silent and he bent down again in response, ready to pick you up with his hands reaching out towards you.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up!" You raised your hands up in defence and stepped out as Daisuke stared at you with a small smirk appearing on his lips. "Alright, you can stop being so smug." You crossed your arms against your chest and pouted as you began walking to the other side while he did the exact opposite by widening his smirk. You turned your gaze away from him, feeling slightly flustered by the range of his expressions today.

I could just be exhausted enough to be delusional.

You attempted to convince yourself as you entered the car once more and buckled your seatbelt in. As Daisuke settled in the driver's seat, you took this opportunity to gaze at him once more, wanting to start a conversation. That was when you looked back outside, at the police cars that had stopped in front of the building.

"Did they take the culprit in?" You asked, your eyes still fixated on the scene.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that right now. I will let you know everything tomorrow morning, first thing." He stared at you briefly before switching his attention behind him so he could reverse the car. You huffed and looked away from the other police officers and at him in disappointment.

"Come on! I'm your partner for this case, you're supposed to tell me what's going on."

"Then you should have been there while I was briefing them." He raised his eyebrows at you as he stated the matter of the fact.

"You're so mean," You mumbled, not having a better comeback for his statement.

"You don't seem to mind that too much, I've noticed." Your eyes widened as he claimed, confidence dripping in his tone.

"That's not- I... Stop assuming everything!" You stumbled on your words and resorted to staring out the window when he scoffed at your reaction.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you up once we reach your home." He suggested after a moment of silence and without hesitation, you nodded and leaned comfortably against the seat.

"You know where my house is, right?" You asked, as if challenging him slightly.

"How many times have I been to your house by now? Let us see," He wrapped his fingers around his chin and pretended to think, causing you to chuckle.

"Alright, alright, just making sure."

"Mhm, sure." He hummed and began driving while you focused on getting some rest since your house was not too far away. The quiet humming of the car and the whish of other cars passing by you put you to sleep a lot faster than you had anticipated.

As you drifted off, Daisuke occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were comfortable and to get a look at your sleeping face so he could tease you later about it. Your face being highlighted by the streetlights distracted him a lot more than he would prefer, but he would never admit that to you so you would never know.

Soon, you two arrived in front of your house and Daisuke parked the car in front, turning off the headlights along with the engine and looking at you. He leaned over slightly and removed your hair from in front of your eyes, getting a better look at you.

"Y/N," He whispered and ran his hand through your hair to get you to wake up quicker. "Y/N, we're home. Wake up." You only hummed in response and leaned into Daisuke's touch, to which he cracked a small smile. He pulled away and unbuckled his seatbelt before getting out of the car and walking over to open your door. After freeing you of your belt, he slid one arm under your knees and the other under your lower back, picking you up with ease.

Stepping up to your front door, he sat you down on the swing of your porch and stood straight, not knowing how to get the key from you. Hesitantly, he reached into your pant's pocket and found your house key without having to search further. He opened the front door and walked back to you, taking you once again in his arms and entering your house. It was a wonder how you had slept through all the moving around.

As he stood at the entrance, he stepped on the heel of his other shoe to take it off, repeating the process for the other, and walked further in. Carefully, he pushed his elbow against a light switch to turn on the lights for the staircase and began walking up, where your bedroom was. Once he reached the upper floor, he felt a soft hold on him and looked down to see you clutching onto his jacket, still sound asleep.

He shook his head and continued walking, tightening his grip on you as he pushed the door to your room. Gently, Daisuke placed you on the bed, causing your grip on him to release its hold as you hummed at the loss of contact. He took the blanket at the end of your bed and draped it over you before standing up straight.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He mumbled before stepping away and placing your house and car keys on the bedside table. Surprisingly, you woke up to his sound and lifted your head to see him looking at you.

"Daisuke?" You questioned, still groggy from your incomplete sleep, which made him chuckle lightly.

"Yes, it's me. Don't worry, I was just about to leave so you can rest." He whispered. His outline being illuminated from the hallway light that shone like a spotlight into your bedroom.

"What? No," You rubbed your eyes and sat up with the support of your elbow as you looked around your room momentarily. "How are you going to go at this time?"

"You shouldn't worry too much about me. I have means to get home."

"Right, of course. I forgot: you're Daisuke Kambe." You chuckled while he shook his head.

"Well, I'll get going now. Don't be late tomorrow." He fixed his hair as he looked at you and you smiled, nodding sleepily. Before he could walk away, however, you grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him closer to you.

"Thank you so much for taking care of me, Daisuke." You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck while he remained stiff in your hold, unsure of what to do. When you felt his breath hitch, you wondered if you were too forward by hugging him without asking.

"Of course," He finally muttered and wrapped his arms around your back in a hesitant hug. You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled a small one when you felt his hands rub your back before you finally pulled away.

"Take care, okay?" You looked up at him and could see him smile from the features that were illuminated in the dark.

"I should be saying that to you. You're the one who hasn't gotten enough sleep." He ruffled your hair while you stuck your tongue out in mischief. "You do look adorable while sleeping, though, I must say." You let out a sound that would closely resemble shock as your eyes widened. "Goodnight, Y/N." With a knowing grin, he stood straight and walked out of your room, leaving you sitting there, speechless.

Once you heard the front door close, you finally snapped out of your daze and felt heat rush to your cheeks as you replayed his words to you. You placed your hands on your face as you felt yourself getting flustered and questioned how you were supposed to look him in the eyes tomorrow after what just happened.

There was no questioning that you would have trouble sleeping tonight as well.

[thirsty-flygirl]

Touch Me

Formerly The Textile Series

A Javier Peña x f! Reader Romance

Rating: Explicit - language, sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll. You know the drill, no one under 18 allowed.

Word Count: 2168

A/N: Look, it’s no secret that I would let Javi absolutely ruin me so here is The Textile Series, back again with a few changes, so I can simp some more over my favorite DEA agent.

******

Part IV: Leather

You slammed the shot glass down, proudly popping the lemon between your salt-swollen lips. Tequila always tasted good and, with one of Escobar’s most notorious sicarios now in US custody, it tasted even better.

“C’mon, Javi, take a shot with me,” you shouted across Murphy to your other partner, who offered you his signature smirk, the corner of his lips lifting as he regarded you. Steve placed a palm against your face and playfully pushed you back, grimacing.

“Christ, woman, you’re gonna make me go deaf,” he complained. You poked a finger into his ribs, gleefully watching as he doubled over. “Ah! No tickling, that’s not playing fair and you know it.” He clambered off the barstool and pointed to the now-empty seat. “Sit. That way you don’t have to scream at Javi.”

You shuffled about and made yourself comfortable on the stool, offering Javier a grin. His smirk shifted into a full-blown smile, that sweet little dimple popping, and your stomach flipped at the sight. Your feelings for Javier were getting out of control, strengthening each day you spent together. You’d nearly kissed him right there at the President’s ball last night, in front of your superiors, not giving a second thought to the damage it could affect on your career. You had worked hard, damn hard, to get where you are, despite the sexism and harassment you’d received because you were a woman. Hell, Steve and Javier were two of only a few men you could think of that didn’t treat you like your only worth was between your legs.

But there you were, hunting down Colombia’s most notorious drug lord, and all could do was simper like a teenager every time Javi smiled.

“You’re drunk,” Javi offered, shifting in his seat to lean on the bar next to you. His elbow brushed against yours, leaving your skin tingling from where your bare skin met. As usual, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, leaving his chest on display. Your eyes roved over his form hungrily, slipping down to see the smattering of dark hair on his chest, before settling on his gorgeous face.

Up close, Javier was disarmingly beautiful. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned into you, eyes searching yours as though they could see every secret etched on your heart. A smattering of freckles dotted his face, barely visible, but you had stared so long and so hard at him that you had every perfect imperfection memorized. His hand wrapped loosely around his tumbler of whiskey and you couldn’t help but imagine that hand wrapped around yours, tethering you to him as you finally gave into your desires.

“I’m not,” you finally managed, finding yourself inching closer to him, a coil of desperate need beginning to unfurl within you. Taking his glass, you let your fingers brush against his, watching his pupils dilate. You took a sip of the biting liquor, letting it trail a path of fire down your throat. “I’m just feeling good.”

Javi reached up to wipe a drop of whiskey from your lips with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling good, hmm? And why’s that?”

You let out a soft whimper at his touch, just loud enough for Javier to feel the vibration on your skin. His eyes darkened and he let out a deep sigh. “You’re gonna get me in fucking trouble one of these days.”

The two of you sat staring stupidly at each other, as though you were the only two people in the crowded bar. Heart pounding and cunt throbbing, you let your fingers settle on his thigh, trailing them toward the seam of his jeans and so close to the place you felt pressed against you last night.

You leaned forward and closed the distance, whispering in your partner’s ear “I heard you like—”

“—Okay, it’s time to go,” Steve thrust his arm between the two of you, setting his empty beer bottle on the worn, wood bar with a loud thump. You and Javi sprung apart like kids caught necking, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you along with the realization that you had been so wrapped up in Javier that you’d forgotten you were in public.

Javi pulled back like he’d been punched, the naked desire written on his face shifting back into a closed, unaffected expression. Nodding at Steve, he avoided your eyes and stood.

“Yeah, it’s late.”

Your stomach lurched at the speed with which Javi could turn off any sign of being interested in you. It was like hot and cold with him, and you were starting to wonder if he even thought of you as more than a potential fuck. You weren’t blind; you knew exactly how your partner managed to get such reliable intel. It wasn’t like you could fault him - you had no claim on him and you knew he was just trying to get one step ahead of Escobar. But the thought of his body bringing another woman the kind of pleasure that you could only imagine, while you lay in your bed at night writhing on your fingers? That was enough to send a wave of jealousy surging through your veins.

You clambered off the stool, leading the way to the door in silence. If Javi wasn’t affected by you, well, you could at least act as if you felt the same. You emerged from the warm bar into the cool night air sweeping over your heated skin like a balm. You continued walking down the street toward the Embassy apartments; the bar wasn’t far from where all of you lived and, while Steve had driven over after work, you wanted to clear your head a bit. Decidedly ignoring their calls to “get in the damn car” (Javi’s words, not yours), you managed to get nearly a block before a hand closed over your elbow.

“What the hell are you doing?” Javi demanded, his dark eyes flicking around to the dark, run-down buildings surrounding you. As much as you wanted to fall into his arms, you pulled away and continued meandering down the street toward your apartment.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you called back flippantly, “I’m walking home!”

Javi groaned in a mixture of exasperation and defeat, jogging a few steps to catch up to you. “Not alone, you aren’t,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Here, at least take my jacket,” he ordered, shrugging off his worn, leather coat and placing it around your chilled shoulders. He sighed loudly as you continued walking, calling after you. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

You spun around in a circle with your arms out, laughing into the night. “I’m a pain in YOUR ass? Javier Peña, you are, without a doubt, the most confusing, irritating man I’ve ever met!” You continued down the street shaking your head and laughing into the night while you continued your rant.

"What I don't understand," you threw over your shoulder in his direction, "is how you can just change direction and act like we don't have anything here. . . like you weren’t about five seconds from fucking me right there in the bar. . . .” Trailing off, you felt the fight leave you. Exhaustion crept through you in its place, and all you wanted now was to get home and sleep your buzz off.

“Hell, maybe I’m just imagining things,” you mumbled tiredly.

You heard Javi's steps come up beside yours, somehow felt his warmth even from feet away. You hated the feeling of tears building in your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to be an emotional wreck in the face of Javi's aloofness. His warm hand closed around your elbow once again, but this time you let him pull you back.

“You think this is just some goddamn game to me?” Javier whispered fiercely, tugging your arm so that you fell forward against him. His free arm curled around your waist, holding you in an approximation of the exact position you had been in while dancing last night.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he gritted out, those deep, brown eyes glittering with fire. Javi brought his hand up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued, and all you could do was stand there, transfixed by his words and the sheer emotion behind them. “You think it’s easy for me to stay away? To act like I’m not thinking about you every goddamn minute of the day?" He shook his head with a defeated expression.

“All I want is to have you,” he continued, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just under your ear. He paused and your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for the moment when you would finally feel his lips on yours.

Without warning, he released you, leaving you cold and wanting as your eyes flew open. Looking at his face, you saw pain etched in every line, agony reflecting in his eyes.

“But I can’t give you what you want.”

He turned away, looking down the street, jaw clenched. You felt tears prick your eyes, frustrated with his words. “Javi,” you began, reaching out, “You’re what I want, I don’t need—”

“No,” he insisted, refusing to meet your eyes. “I need to catch Escobar, that’s the only thing that matters. I’ve been so distracted and I—” He broke off, his hand coming up to massage at his neck in a gesture so familiar it hurt. He dropped his head with a frustrated sigh and gently pushed at your shoulder.

“Come on, we need to get home.”

You let Javier walk a few steps ahead of you, mind spinning and heart squeezing painfully in your chest. You had felt so warm in his arms, so alive, like every one of your nerve endings buzzed when you were pressed against his body. Now, even with the worn leather of Javi’s jacket pulled around you, you felt chilled, lonely, incomplete.

Down deep, you knew Javier Peña was a selfless man. He wanted to do good, be good, but always felt like he was falling short. He had one mission in Colombia: to capture Pablo Escobar. Anything beyond that was unnecessary, a distraction; something you understood well.

But your heart was selfish - you wanted both. To find Escobar and have him extradited and locked up with a maximum sentence, definitely. But on those lonely nights and the moments in-between when you could imagine something other than the gritty underworld of Colombian drug trafficking, you wanted Javier. Wanted his arms around you, his mouth against yours. You wanted to trace the lines of his neck with your tongue, wanted to run your hands down his torso, then lower, lower, until you breathlessly gripped him and slid down, finally finding home in the middle of the madness.

At an impasse and emotionally drained, you stayed silent for the remainder of your walk, watching Javi turn his key in the security door and shuffling in behind him. You began up the stairs, the feeling of Javier’s gaze burning through you, before you remembered the coat curled around your body.

“Oh, I forgot,” you mumbled, moving to the bottom step while shrugging the garment off. You held it out to Javier, keeping your eyes on the floor, silently begging him to just take it so you could lock yourself in your apartment and break down in private.

“Keep it,” Javi replied, the gravel in his voice still sending a thrill of arousal through your body despite the fact that you felt like he was slipping away from you. "Something to remember me by when we get out of this shithole."

You smiled sadly, reaching out to place a hand gently against his chest, your palm settled over the steady beat of his heart.

Javier stared at you, the longing in his eyes so tangible you couldn't stop the tears from falling. He gently swiped them from your cheeks, a sad smile on his lips.

"Don't cry over me, Sweetheart. I'm not worth your tears."

He leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, letting his full lips linger for a moment before taking a step back, the inches between you feeling like an impassable chasm. You stood silently, afraid that the tenuous grip you held on your emotions would break if you tried to speak. Javier turned and entered his apartment, never giving you a backwards glance, and you were left standing on the stairs alone.

With no reason to hold back you let your tears fall, your knees giving way as you sat down hard on the dirty step beneath you. You buried your face in the bundle of soft leather you held, weeping over a love you never had in the first place. Eventually, once your sobs calmed, you made your way up the stairs to your apartment and fell into bed exhausted, still clutching Javier’s jacket in your arms.

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[freesiart]

Scrabble

Tony won’t let you go on a mission, but you’re pretty capable of getting in trouble without his assistance.

English isn’t my first language, I apologize if there were any mistakes!

Gif isn’t mine

“Damn it, that’s what I talking about, Y/N! You're just being stupid! I won't let you go on a mission.”

Perhaps if you stopped treating me like a child, I would stop acting like one, you thought sourly.

Stark became a real monster when it came to protection. More precisely, to hyperprotection. At first it was even pleasant, but now it was just annoying.

“Gods, Tony!” You gritted your teeth trying to contain your anger. “This is not a raid on the Hydra base, this is an average mission! I can handle myself!”

Stark didn’t pay the slightest attention to your words. He fastened the buckle on his chest and gave you an angry look.

“You are not going, kid. End of discussion.”

You growled, but refrained from stamping your foot. It would only amuse him even more.

“It doesn't make any sense! You take everyone! Even Bucky is coming,” you said. “You care about quantity, not quality! Take me!”

Tony nodded at Barnes as he passed by and looked at you wearily.

“Y/N. No. Plus, Loki is staying with you! Play Scrabble or whatever. When we get back, you can help us unload.”

You folded your hands on your chest and turned away, pursing your lips so as not to cry from anger and powerlessness. Tony left.

It was late evening. Finally, a quinjet with an incomplete, but basic composition of the Avengers (the full one included Y/N and Loki) took off, and you stubbornly followed him with your gaze until it turned into a completely distinguishable point on the horizon.

Turning around, you saw that Loki was watching you, leaning on the doorframe.

He was dressed like a Midgardian: a dark green crew-neck sweater, black trousers, and a jacket. Black hair framed his face in a perfect halo, and your heart fluttered. Gods, he was handsome. And he was also a god, you reminded yourself. Do not flatter yourself.

You put on an imperturbable face.

“What? You don't expect me to really play Scrabble with you, do you?”

His lips curled up in a grin for a moment.

“I have no idea what Scrabble is. Another stupid invention of the Midgardians.”

You rolled your eyes in displeasure and walked past him. To your surprise, Loki followed you.

“What do you want?” you asked him without turning your head. You were uncomfortable with the fact that you are alone in the Avengers tower with a Scandinavian god. You were not afraid of Loki. Rather, you were afraid of what would happen if he suddenly found out about your feelings. Or at least suspect them.

Loki snorted.

“I'm just bored, mortal. Why, of all people, did they leave you here?

“Why, of all people, did they leave you here?” you retorted. “Oh wait, I know. This is because no one trusts you enough to allow you to take part in a real mission.”

You turned around, anticipating that he would be angry, but Loki's face was amused. His eyes glittered. He seemed to feel the delight of the verbal skirmish.

But before he had time to answer, an alarm siren screamed. Your heart immediately sank into your heels, and you rushed to the dashboard.

You didn't like what you saw there.

“Damn it!” You turned to Loki. “On the lower floors, someone made their way into the room with safes. Where Stark's developments are. They will not break the safe, but they will cause trouble. Need to go.”

You rushed to the weapons cabinet and fished out three pistols. You put one in your holster, took the second in your hand, and handed the third to Loki. He froze, looking at you with disbelief... and nervousness?

“We must go,” you repeated insistently, holding out a gun to him.

Loki took a deep breath.

“Y/N, you shouldn't go there. Let the guards settle this.”

You felt the bitterness on your tongue. Without looking at Loki, you put the third gun back in the closet.

“I see,” you muttered angrily. “Stay here, I can handle it myself. Play Scrabble or whatever.”

You went to the elevator with a lump in your throat. When the doors were already closing, Loki squeezed into the elevator. He looked worried and angry.

“I already told you, I don’t know what Scrabble is.”

***

As it turns out, Loki was not completely wrong.

There were four spies - one broke into the safe room, the second guarded the entrance to the premises, and the other two held the guards hostage. And they had huge guns.

You and Loki were standing right around the corner of the floor. You looked at the small pistol in your hand and sighed intermittently.

“I go first, shoot those two, and you disarm the third from behind,” you whispered him your plan. “Then we go inside, and the last one...”

Before you could finish, Loki calmly walked around the corner and disarmed all three with a wave of his hand. They clutched at their throats, as if something invisible was choking them. One of them's eyes began to roll.

You've never seen Loki's magic in action. And, to be honest, it scared you.

You hung on his arm, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were empty, and his brows were furrowed. His gaze cleared slightly as he saw you.

“Loki,” you said forcefully. “Stop, you are killing them.”

Loki lowered his hand with a sigh. Criminals fell to the floor, coughing. You nodded in satisfaction and cocked the trigger.

“Well done. Keep these under control, I will bring out the Tomb Raider.”

You coped with the fourth one without any problems. He was unarmed, but surrounded by devices to open the safe - as if they really would have helped him. Seeing the muzzle of the gun pointed at himself, he immediately surrendered.

Proud, you led the fourth one out of the safe room and motioned for him to go to the others. Beaming, you turned to Loki. Who turned very pale in an instant and opened his mouth, but you interrupted him:

“Nice work, Loki! You and I are...”

You felt something cold on your neck, and all the bravado immediately flew off you.

“Slow down, talker. Gun on the floor.”

Damn it.

It looks like there were five of them.

You dropped your gun to the floor, trying not to make any sudden movements. Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Loki and saw that he was white with anger. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Get the gun off her!” he growled. It seemed to you that the room had darkened. “Right now.”

Loki took a step towards you, but the man behind you jabbed a cold muzzle into your neck, and you flinched. Loki stopped immediately. You saw how his Adam's apple twitched convulsively.

“Stay where you are, little god. And you, talker, throw out the second pistol. And walk with me to the exit. You are my ticket to freedom, aye?”

You swallowed hard and pulled out the second pistol, not taking your eyes off Loki. He was terrified, he was pounding.

“Sorry,” you mouthed. The muzzle poked you in the back again, and you were seized with sudden anger towards the criminal. You are not a little child. You are capable of more than just being a damsel in distress.

You bent down and walked off to the left, sweeping the criminal. There was not enough strength, and he did not fall, but only lost his balance. With your elbow you tried to knock the pistol out of his hand when the shot happened.

He fell, and for some reason you fell too.

Then you felt a pain in your shoulder, and your eyes darkened for a minute.

You heard screams and heavy breathing. Then everything fell silent, and you felt someone's gentle, caring hands lifting you from the floor.

“Loki...” you whispered. You saw his face, distorted by a mask of horror, and felt how he was shaking. “Everything is fine. He hit my shoulder.”

His lips trembled, and you thought he sobbed.

"Why should I care about you, stupid mortal?" he growled. His eyes glittered strangely. ”Especially about such an idiot?”

You chuckled, feeling your whole body go numb from the pain spreading from your shoulder. The pain was bearable if it meant you could look at Loki.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

Loki gazed at your face painfully and tenderly, and then lightly pressed his lips to yours. Weightless as the touch of a butterfly.

You leaned forward and kissed him. Your kiss was bittersweet: full of fear, pain, longing and deep affection of the heart.

Loki looked up from you, not hiding the love that was in the lights in his eyes.

“You didn't think that I would let you go until you teached me how to play Scrabble, did you?”

[tiptapricot]

tipstie PLEASE tell me about tlb turning human/ human AU

Absolutely my dudes 👁👁 (this is also all hcs about how vampire rules work so just go with it)

So for me a human TLB AU isn’t one where they die and turn human, it’s one where Max is killed after being found out one way or another before any altercation with the boys happens, and they revert back to humans as a result

The reason this happens is because all the boys were sired by Max, and while they are technically full vampires, they aren’t independent vampires

Sires act as a sort of guardian to the vampires they turn, watching over them and guiding them until they believe they’re ready to take care of themselves

This is why they have a certain level of control, influence, and power over the vampires they turn, they have a bond

When sires think the vampires they’ve turned are ready to make it on their own, they sever that bond with a ritual that relinquishes complete autonomy to their vampires

But Max never did this

He wanted a family, and families have to stick together, so until his death he still clung to that small sliver of control over the boys, and that last step to complete and independent vampirism remained incomplete

And so, when Max is killed, there’s a sort of backlash, a glitch

The bond is broken, but broken wrong, and the small piece of the boys that’s still human, the piece that still remains deep down, starts clawing it’s way out

It hits Marko first, since was turned most recently, chills and fever and body wracking pain, like his body is eating itself from the inside out

It’s nothing like any of them have ever seen or heard of before, and they don’t know what to do but sit with him and try to lessen the fever

Paul follows a few hours later, exactly the same, and Dwayne helps David carry the two of them a little over halfway to the Emerson house before he collapses too

David gets them the rest of the way there, feeling worse and worse the longer he goes

He knocks on the door and Michael opens it, and David only manages a raspy “Need your help, Michael,” before he’s pitching forward into his arms

The next week or so is a blur

Michael convinces Lucy and Grandpa to help, and for Sam to keep the Frogs away while they figure out what’s going on

Star calls that night, and says she and Laddie were out when they felt themselves change back, and that she didn’t wait to find out why

She caught a bus to her cousin’s place in LA and took Laddie with her, but wanted to make sure Michael was ok

He says he’s fine, and promises to call again with more details, since “it’s a little hard to explain right now” and they hang up with plans to talk that weekend

Meanwhile the boys are going in and out of feverish half awake states, never lucid enough to do anything except drink water and groan. The Emersons take care of them in shifts, and Michael helps Grandpa research what might be happening to them. They don’t find a lot

Marko is the first to come out of it, after about three days

He’s groggy and confused, waking up to Lucy wiping his forehead with a damp towel

She gives him something to drink and helps him sit up, but there’s something... wrong

There’s a weight in his chest, a thrumming, heavy heartbeat, expanding lungs, heat

He’s breathing again, he’s alive again

He’s human

Paul wakes up in the middle of that night, to Michael in the room this time. After getting the general “you’re human but we don’t know why” pitch, he’s taken to a guest bedroom where he finds Marko curled up on the bed. He slides in behind him and pulls him close, and he knows Marko isn’t asleep because he can feel him shaking

Marko’s always been good at crying quietly

Paul’s pretty personable as they wait for David and Dwayne to wake up. He talks with the family and reads comics on the living room couch, and fetches food and stuff for Marko, who’s basically refusing to leave the guest room

Being back in a human body is bringing back too many memories for him of the shitty life he escaped from, and he’s having a hard time dealing with it

But Paul is there, and the Emersons are alright, and he’s eventually able to be coaxed out to have an actual meals with the family, and that’s nice too

Dwayne wakes up the Saturday after the boys first arrive, in one of the rare times no one was in the room to keep an eye on him and David

He interrupts breakfast by barreling into the living room looking extremely lost and worried, and shakily rushes over to pull Paul and Marko into a hug when he sees them staring wide eyed at him from the table

“Couldn’t hear you...” he mumbles into Marko’s hair. “Can’t hear either of you anymore...”

Lucy has him join them at the table and gets him his own plate of food, and they explain what they know. It still isn’t a lot, but it does give him a reason as to why the mental link the boys had is gone

The following days are strangely quiet. Michael and Lucy help the boys adjust, reminding them to eat and helping them when they forget they don’t have super strength or magic healing

The boys start talking more too, mostly out of necessity since they can’t communicate mentally anymore (which Marko thinks is extremely annoying) but also because life in the Emerson house is... surprisingly comfortable

Michael explains the whole thing to Star over the phone, and after a moment she laughs

“Maybe they needed this,” she tells him, “maybe this is good.”

A week and a half after the boys arrive, two things happen: David finally wakes up, and the Frogs find out who the mysterious house guests Sammy’s been keeping them away from are

David comes to in a dim room, with Michael dozing against the wall

He grunts and pushes himself up, and only just registers the heat of his own blood and the scratch of breathing in the back of his throat when there’s a commotion from somewhere outside

Michael wakes up with a slight flinch, rubbing a hand over his face, and makes eye contact with David right as the door slams open and Dwayne, Marko, and Paul come rushing in, followed quickly by the Frog brothers and a frantic Sam

It takes a bit of explaining, but they eventually come to an understanding

The Frogs are still a bit hesitant to believe the boys are human, but it’s not like real vampires could walk in the sunlight or show up in the hall mirror, so that’s good enough for them

The boys continue living with the Emersons after that

They find ways to help out here and there, with cleaning or dinner or dishes or farm work

Sleep schedules become basically non existent as well, and it’s a common occurrence to find at least one person up at all hours of the night

Each of the boys has... a moment or two, where it really settles in that they’re human again

For Marko, it’s when he pokes himself while trying to resew one of his patches. He hisses when he pricks his thumb, and when the blood beads up on the pad of his finger he just... stares at it. It doesn’t heal right away, and he can’t even smell it. He sucks on it to try and make it go away, and tasting blood again, when it no longer has the same rush or necessity, makes him cringe. He puts a band aid on it, and doesn’t mention it to anyone.

For Paul, it’s when he goes to a concert on the beach. He manages to get lost in the music, in the crowd, in the loud drums and the guitar riffs and the warm press of bodies and the intoxicating energy, and he doesn’t, not once, think about sinking his teeth into anyone around him. He only realizes about halfway through the second song that he’s actually hearing the music, too, instead of it just being the background noise for a cacophony of heartbeats. He goes home that night drunk on sound and life, and doesn’t know if he’s ever been happier in his life.

For Dwayne, it’s when he has his first cup of hot chocolate after turning back. It’s at the beginning of winter, and everyone is crammed together on the couch to break in the TV that Sam finally convinced Grandpa and Lucy to get. Michael and Sam are bickering about what movie to watch, Paul and Marko are having an animated conversation with the Frogs from their place on the floor, and Lucy and grandpa are laughing about something in the kitchen. They come out a bit later with snacks and drinks, and Dwayne is handed a big mug of cocoa with a heaping helping of whipped cream and marshmallows. He takes a sip without really thinking, and then stops. There’s a moment, when he just feels the warmth spread through his chest and belly, and then all at once it’s like he’s hit with this wave of emotions he can’t quite place, familiarity and relief and joy, and there are tears mixing with his whipped cream mustache. The movie is good, but the cocoa is definitely better.

For David, the first time is when he goes outside after waking up. He’d seen the sunlight through the windows, and knew it didn’t hurt him anymore, but feeling it, actually smelling the fresh air and hearing the birds and cicadas and feeling a warm breeze... it’s a little overwhelming. Michael finds him sitting on the back porch wiping at his eyes, and joins him

The second time is when he notices that his roots are showing, that his hair is growing again. Any cutting or dying was effectively permanent when he was a vampire, since their hair didn’t grow, but now... Getting a reminder that his body is living and changing again is strange. He decides to let it grow out a bit, just to see where it goes

The boys are very touchy with everyone. They were already before they turned back, but now that cuddles involve body heat, they happen much more often

So do visits to the mall, oddly enough. Lucy takes them once to get them some new clothes, and they have way too much fun popping in and out of different shops and all trying to fit in the photo booth at once. They may, technically, get banned from a few stores for causing too much of a ruckus, but that doesn’t stop them from coming back

Dwayne and David both get really into cooking, and Paul and Marko experiment a lot with mixing different things to “remember what tastes good” again. Usually doesn’t have the best outcomes, but they’re definitely adventurous

David forgets he has to sleep sometimes, but he’ll be out like a rock if anyone pulls him into bed or lets him lean on them while watching TV

Overall, adjusting is strange for all of them, but there’s a goodness to it too. Even when things are hard they figure them out eventually, and no matter what they always have each other

It feels like a new life, a new start, where they can finally get things right

Headcanons masterpost

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: this chapter may be a little gory for some people. It contains lots of blood and angst and tears, broken bones, and the like. If you are uncomfortable with it, you can read until bold words after the cut. That’s when the gore starts. Then it ends at the highlighted, bold word, you got me?

Present Sebastian means the adult Sebastian, orite? In this time frame, everyone will be aged down, so here’s a headcanon of their ages. All the ages of bachelors and bachelorettes have been taken into account by their appearance, current height, personality and maturity.

(Y/n) and Abby: 6 years old (currently 23) Sebastian: 8 years old (currently 25) Sam: 7 years old (currently 24) Penny: 7 years old (currently 24) Maru: 3 years old (currently 21) Emily: 9 years old (currently 26) Haley: 7 years old (currently 24)

Lewis, Evelyn and George: mid Forties Robin, Demetrius, Caroline, Jodi, Pierre, Gus: late twenties to early thirties Pam, Marnie: late thirties

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Where am I?’ Sebastian wondered to himself. It was bright all around him, but it was quite cold. He looked around him, trying to figure out where he was. 

‘The bus stop?’ he concluded as his eyes landed on the meter that stood at the side of the road. The foliage around him was somewhat similar to what it was now, but the trees were bare of their leaves and if they did bear any, they were orange and yellow.

But he knew this wasn’t in present time. 

The bus that stood idle on the tar road was gone, most probably still up and running in this time frame. But if it was, then, this must be pretty far back. But when exactly was th--

“Sebby! Wait up!” his train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a little girl. Instinctively, Sebastian turned his head around, accustomed to the nickname he had been called by people closest to him.

But it wasn’t regarded to him, well....not the him now.

A young black haired boy in a dark colored, sleeveless hoodie was in his sight, despite the cold autumn wind, was running towards him. He flinched, as if preparing for the impact from collision.

But it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes and chuckled to himself. The boy had run through him, telling him that this wasn’t reality, despite how real it looked. 

He turned to see a little boy, before his right hand unconsciously grabbed his chest. Right above where his heart was. It hurt. But why? Was it this child? The child that was without a doubt, him?

The same thing happened when (Y/n) first moved here. The same feeling before his vision temporarily swapped with an old, worn-out memory, too muddled for him to even identify who was who in it. And suddenly he had a small horrible feeling in his chest.

He decided it was nothing though, and just shrugged it off.

The boy turned around, his bright black eyes glimmering with joy and innocence of a child as a large smile had taped itself permanently onto his face.

“Abby! _____!” Wait, what was that? He heard Abigail’s nickname, but the next was just plain white noise. And all noise disappeared when her name was spoken. As if a chunk of sound was extracted from a record and was left empty before playing the next part, leaving it incomplete.

But before he could think any further, two more figures came running over, hand in hand. Two little girls. A girl with wavy chestnut hair in a frilly blue dress and another with long (h/c), hair reaching her waist who wore a white turtle neck and (f/c) cotton skirt with flower patterns. 

“What are we going to play today?” the (h/c)-haired girl asked, hand still lingering in the girl who is apparently Abigail’s past self. Young Sebastian thought, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Let’s play tag!” he suggested, but Abby refused. 

“No! It’s no fun with three people!” Abby retorted, sticking her tongue out. The other girl remained silent, as if she were thinking up a better solution.

“Well, Sebby, if you still want to play tag, lets invite the others, then! At least, if it’s four people or more, it would be more fun!” she offered, her sweet voice sounding outstandingly familiar.

Sebastian had no idea why this girl was radiating a strong sense of nostalgia. And he was heavily confused why he had proposed the game of tag. For as long as he remembered, he hated the game tag. All this was surely just a dream.

“Okay then,” Abigail agreed. “Let’s bring Emily and Haley and Penny and Sam, then!” she said happily, looking at the other two who nodded their heads.

“Abby, since you suggested Penny and Sam, you go get them!” Sebby said. But Abby refused, stomping her small foot on the ground. “No! Then _____ has to come with me!” she protested, grabbing hold of the confused girl’s hand.

“No!” Sebby said, grabbing the other (s/c) hand. “She stays with me!” he shouted back, tugging her arm. “_____! You’re staying with me, right?!” he asked, but Abby shouted back. “No! She’s coming with me, right? _____?!”

“I’ll go with Abby! Then, I’ll come back Sebby! How about that?” she asked, “I’m still gonna come back to you anyway!” the little girl spoke boldly, making past and present Sebastian’s face redden. Who was this little girl?! Why is she so determined? Why does this feel so familiar? It was starting to mess with him. As if the white noise whenever the little girl’s name was spoken wasn’t already bothering enough.

“Fine! You two better come back, got it?!” Sebby gave in, letting go of the small wrist with a red face. Sebastian chuckled. His imaginary younger self had a crush on this unknown girl? This dream really was something.

Or so he thought.

Abby grabbed little _____’s hand, as the two departed. As they were out of sight, Sebastian heard his younger self say, “I wanted to tell her something. And this was her last day here! Why does she stick to Abby so much?!” he grumbled, kicking a nearby stump. Sebastian chuckled. Was this dream to fulfil his unfulfilling childhood?

Cliche. A young boy wanting to confess to his childhood crush that was going to move. But was she really a citizen here in Pelican Town? Abigail told him, well, Sam, at the Saloon, that there was a little girl that visited during a certain season. Was this it?

Moments later, the two came back with another four in tow. Young Sammy, Haley, Emily and Penny. And the game of tag began.

“Remember! Avoid the road!” was the only rule little Abby stated before all of them scampered around, avoiding the first person tagged. Little Sammy.

The game went on, each child successfully tagging another. Sammy, Abby, then _____, Sebby, _____again, Penny, Emily, Abby, Haley, Sammy, Haley and the list kept going on.

Until Sebby was tagged again by Abby, he ran to tag someone else. Of course, it was common sense to avoid everyone, right? And little Sebby was chasing the closest person to him, their blonde blue eyed boy, little Sammy. 

Sammy was cornered and the only way he wanted to evade the dark haired boy’s attack was to cross the road, even though it was considered out of bounds. He ran and crossed the road, ignoring all the cries and shouts from his friends and stood triumphantly on the other side. 

Sebby wasn’t about to give up though. He was going to chase Sammy and tag him next. So the black haired boy ran right after him. But from all the noise and excitement, he never realized an incoming vehicle from the tunnel. And Sebastian had heard it even when Sam was crossing.

Sebastian felt himself calling out his own name, repeating the same words, ‘No’, as if his younger self could hear it. Tears began running down his face for no apparent reason. His chest hurt so much, despite not knowing why. This was bad. The horrible he shrugged off earlier was growing in him rapidly. 

~Something bad was going to happen.

Despite all the shouts, little Sebby ran to cross the road, before a large blue lorry entered his sight. He stopped in his tracks, too afraid to move. His black eyes watching as the large vehicle was going to hit him.

Everything happened so fast.

“SEBASTIAN!”

Sebastian felt a hard push in the back and he stumbled to the ground. 

Screeching tires. Panicked yells. Scrambling on the grass. A loud colliding sound between metal and something hard. A dull, sickening thump on the ground. Horrified screams and wails. 

He remembers everything. Everything came back to him in that small instance. Despite looking at the ground, he can see everything that happened. He lifted his head, wishing that what he’s about to witness wasn’t what he hoped to be.

“No...no it can’t be! NO!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet as more tears ran down. 

The children around him were screaming, crying, wailing, in fright, horror, sadness, pain. 

For the one that laid still on the tar road.

A pool of blood circled the head of the young child, it’s long (h/c) strands mercilessly disheveled and painted in the warm liquid beneath, staining the white shirt she wore. Her clothing was slightly torn and dirty from rolling on the ground, but that didn’t conceal the horrifying angle her right arm was. 

Her left side was vulnerable to the lorry, but when she rolled, she used her right arm to stop herself. And that horribly failed. Her shoulder was completely shattered, but bits of bone were poking out of the tender flesh and white cloth. Her face wasn’t visible. But he knew there was a horrible gash across her forehead.

The children were calling her name out repeatedly, running over to their fallen friend. Calling her name to get her to respond. Kneeling by her side as the lorry driver came running out. The cries of the children bringing attention to the townspeople. All of them came running to see the commotion. 

“No....” Sebastian whispered once more, tears endlessly dripping from his eyes. “No! No! No!” he stood there, too shocked to even move. What was all this?! What was happening?! What was--

“(Y/N)!!” 

He shot up, sitting up, tears running down his face from the dream. He was in the safety of his dark basement. He looked at the time. 2 AM. But he knew it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A trauma that left him trembling for years. That locked itself up in his mind. Too shocked to remember.

The dreams before this were just snippets and altered versions of the real event. The more twisted, but safer version that never disrupted or triggered his memory in any form.

He remembered everything that happened.

When he ran to chase Sam, he froze in the middle of the road. Young (Y/n) moved fast enough to push him out of the road. But in exchange, she got herself hit. And that horrible event brought despair upon the children, to the point where they grew up completely opposite of what they were during children. Closed off to their memories due to trauma, unnerving and odd feelings towards childish things like the game tag.

He remembered all the adults that rounded them. First it was Jodi and Caroline who were chatting in the town square and heard the collision. Then, it was Robin who was taking a break from her blueprints. Being the adventurous and boisterous female she was, she immediately bolted down the mountain, through the Farm. 

She called out the old man that resided there, asking about her child and his grandchild before the two ran off to the bus stop. Evelyn with George outside together on the bridge near the empty lot Joja was on now. Even George was worried, so he asked Evelyn to push him over.

Demetrius had to stay with Maru since he saw his wife bolt in front of the house in a hurry and panic. Lewis was out tending his garden when he heard the shrill screams.

All the adults began to run over and Lewis immediately dialed the ambulance when he arrived. All of them were shocked, shook by the gruesome scene before them. But only (Y/n)’s grandfather didn’t freeze in place. Instead, he ran straight to his beloved granddaughter.

The old man broke down crying, holding the limp left hand of his precious but unconscious little girl, too afraid to move her. Robin next to him, grabbing her son, checking over for injuries before pulling him to her chest, weeping silently from worry and sadness. Pained, from the broken shouts of her son who still scream the little girl’s name before evidently breaking down.

Jodi stood pale before bolting over when she heard her son’s cries pulling him into her arms. Caroline and Pierre cradled little Abby in their arms, shutting her eyes as she continued to weep on their embrace, her throat too hoarse and dry to call out her friends name anymore. Emily and Haley’s parents turned their children’s head away from the bloodbath scene, the image of the limp girl burned permanently into their memory core. Pam ran to Penny, who refused to turn away from her friend, screaming out her name none stop between her wails.

All of it returned to him. The most impacted one, was undoubtedly him. The one he loved being run over from trying to save him. She was taken away by the ambulance and he was brought along with the rest for a check up. 

It was blurry when they had the check up, but they stayed the night. (Y/n) was wheeled into the ER and brought into the room when they were all fast asleep. Her head and arm were all wrapped out, her left ankle was bandaged.

When they woke up, (Y/n)’s parents had come and had a huge fight with her grandfather, his mother, Abby’s, Sam’s, all while cradling their unresponsive child in their arms.

Remembering all that in an instant took a heavy toll on Sebastian. His tears never stopped falling, and brought his knees to his face. He muffled his sobs that were filled with guilt and pain, but relief that the girl was still alive, and came back like she promised.

He had to make things right. 

But with the way he is now, he’s a little uncertain how to approach her. And the crush thing was long gone. Perhaps already replaced with Abigail over the emptiness. 

Maybe he should just stay quite and let time work its wonders.

[minchanslut]

At Your Service

Pairing: F!Reader x Escort!MinChan  Word count: 2.4K

You sighed deeply, feeling the warm water cascade down your shoulders, taking some of the tension you had built up on your muscles along with it, but that alone wasn’t enough. The immense stress that your job put on you along with so many nights of sleeping alone had started to get to you. You wouldn’t say that you were one to feel incomplete while not in the company of a significant other, but as your needs grew, you found it harder to satiate them yourself, often leaving yourself feeling unsatisfied. You craved the touch of someone else. 

Of course, you attempted to follow the trend of meeting people on dating apps and engaging in one night stands, but you were quick to realise that it simply wasn’t for you after having two separate experiences which left you deeply disappointed, and wondering whether men were even able to make women orgasm anymore. After telling your friend of your encounters and how you’ve given up hope on dating apps she suggested you hire an escort, if what you were looking for was just great sex. You dismissed her idea, saying that such a service would only be a waste of money and that you were bound to find someone who would be able to give you what you need, for free at that. But you had no such luck, not even after four months. It was almost as frustrating for your friend as it was for you, seeing as she had to put up with your constant whining and complaining. Even after months had passed she was still adamant about how you should at least try her suggestion, claiming that she heard of an extremely luxurious escort lounge through a coworker. It took some time, but eventually you gave in and decided to test the waters, though still quite skeptical, you had little hopes for what was to come. You had made an “appointment”, as they called it, about a week before, telling yourself you needed time to prepare, both physically and mentally. The website, which insured complete secrecy, offered a wide variety of escorts to choose from, which only made it harder for you to take your pick. After spending hours scrolling on your phone, reading the description provided of each escort and thoroughly analyzing their photos, you decided to go for a guy named Chris. His photo provided a glimpse of his toned muscles and charming smile, but not much else. You chose not to dwindle on your decision for too long, fearing that you would change your mind and end up back at square one. 

A week later you found yourself walking through the doors of a lavish club which seemed more like a 5-star hotel. There were both men and women dressed in expensive attire throughout the room. You timidly searched for the front desk, hoping whoever was there wouldn’t poke fun at your anxious state. Thankfully you were greeted with an understanding smile by a woman named Mia, who gave you a brief explanation of how everything worked. She would tell you which room your escort would be waiting in, and would announce to them that you were on your way and all you had to do was make it there in one piece. Seemed simple enough. Before you left she assured you that you had nothing to be worried about and that you were in good hands. 

“It’s not too late to turn back.” you told yourself, but if you did so you would lose both the experience and your deposit. Before you knew it you were already standing in front of Chris’ room, realizing then there really was no turning back. Chris was already standing at the door frame by the time you arrived. He greeted you with a smile, and allowed you to come inside, immediately offering you something to drink. You admitted to being too nervous to drink anything and he nodded in understanding. 

“Is there anything I can do to help ease your nerves? You know, before we start?”

You could only shrug, scratching your head awkwardly. 

“Okay how about, I eat your pussy? Would that calm you down a bit?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his coarseness, but you went along with it nonetheless. That is why you were here after all. 

Chris approached you slowly, sitting down on the bed beside you, helping you out of both your bottoms before ridding himself of his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare at his toned arms and defined abs, and you would’ve stared at them for much longer if his touch hadn’t pulled you away from your thoughts. He instructed you to straddle him as he laid down. He chuckled when you gave him a confused look. 

“This way you can set your own pace, is that alright?” 

You decided to go along with it,as you figured that he would know what he’s doing. He guided you towards his face, your aching pussy spread out in front of him. 

“Whenever you’re ready.”

You took a deep breath and lowered yourself, providing Chris with direct access to your heat. He placed kitten licks on your clit, allowing you to get accustomed to the situation before wrapping his lips around the small bud and sucking harshly. You got the impression that Chris was enjoying himself just as much as you were, as he was moaning against your clit, the vibrations making your legs shake in pleasure. Chris’ hands found themselves holding onto your waist, helping you maintain balance as you grinded against his tongue, practically fucking his face. Your moans grew louder as your orgasm approached, your toes curled up as you pulled away, your pussy convulsing vigorously. You collapsed beside him as he sat up, wiping your juices from his chin with the back of his hand. 

“Do you need a minute or do you wanna go again?”

You asked yourself if he was insane, how could you go again after cumming that intensely. And yet no more than 5 minutes after your first orgasm you found yourself on all fours in front of Chris, who was thrusting into you at an incredible speed. He had his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his chiseled abs on your skin. He had one hand supporting his weight and the other rubbing your clit. Every so often he would plant chaste kisses on your back and shoulders, followed by praise that made you melt. 

“You feel so good, I won’t last much longer, shit.”

And he really didn’t, though neither did you. But mere moments later you were right back where you started, ready for another round. 

From then on you found yourself seeing Chris once a month, twice if you were lucky. 

You felt your muscles contort, an evident frown forming on your face as you refreshed the page once more only to receive the same notification. Due to your busy schedule the days you could make an appointment to see Chris were very limited, but luck had always been on your side and you were able to see him on the days you were free without any difficulties, until now that is. Your frustration grew as you continuously refreshed the website but were still met with the words “No slots available” 

You could easily be considered a regular there, but you hadn’t been with anyone other than Chris. You were unsure whether to just give up and visit the following month, maybe even making an appointment several weeks in advance this time, or to simply go for someone else. You really didn’t feel like going through the trouble of searching for someone else, seeing as it was already difficult for you to pick the first time. You were close to giving up on your search until you discovered a rather convenient quiz the website provided, which claimed to help you find the perfect sexual partner for you. After hesitantly clicking on the link you were redirected to a page with various questions regarding your kinks, desires and fantasies. It was a rather quick quiz that certainly didn’t beat around the bush. After calculating your results you were met with the name Minho in bold letters, along with a short description of him right beside his photo. You opted to trust their recommendation and booked a session with Minho for later that week. 

You walked into the building with less confidence than in the recent months, yet still not as apprehensive as the first time. You were nervous about what this new experience might be like, but you were excited nonetheless, wondering what Minho would do differently than Chris. Heading over to the front desk you greeted the receptionist whom you’ve grown fairly friendly with over the recent months. You made casual small talk as she typed away on her computer before stopping abruptly and looking up at you with a puzzled look on her face. 

“Do you not have a session with Chris tonight?”

Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her gaze, announcing that you were, in fact, there to see Minho. She cocked her eyebrow at you, smirking slightly and continued without another word. You shrugged it off, bidding her a farewell as you began heading towards the room you had been assigned, rolling your eyes when she shouted “Have fun!” from behind you. 

You knocked twice and Minho opened the door almost immediately, clearly expecting you. 

He was dressed simply, button up and black dress pants. His hair was pushed back, slightly damp from what you assumed was gel. He invited you inside and was quick to comment about how he had seen you before but never expected you to go for anyone other than Chris. 

“It’s quite an honor, actually, to have some fun with Chris’ plaything. Or is it the other way around, hm?” 

There was only silence, which caused Minho to sigh. He made his way behind you, helping you slip off your coat as he whispered in your ear. 

“No need to be so tense, I’m here to help you unwind after all.” 

He ran his hands up and down your arms as he nipped and sucked on the exposed area of your neck. His hands then traveled to your sides, fingers gently tugging at the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. His fingers softly traced the skin of your abdomen while he walked forward, leading you towards the bed. He planted wet kisses down your spine, getting lower with each kiss and pulling down your pants in the process. Once you were left in nothing but your undergarments he gently pushed you down onto the bed. You were at a 90 degree angle, your upper body laying on the bed as your knees pressed onto the floor supporting your lower half. Minho ran his hand up and down your back, humming at your reaction. 

“Eager, aren’t we? Maybe I should just give you what you want.” 

He wasted no time waiting for an answer as he placed a small kiss on your pussy through your panties. He moved onto your inner thighs, leaving chaste kisses on the supple skin. He could feel your legs beginning to shake with anticipation and he was quick to return his attention to your aching pussy, licking a long stripe up your clothed folds. Minho pushed your panties aside as he pressed his finger against your entrance. 

“Shit, you’re already getting wet, but you can do better than that, right?” 

He slid his finger in deeper, curling it upwards as his lips found their way around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a slow pace, taking care to give enough attention to your clit. He withdrew his finger, only to collect your juices with his index and middle finger before sliding them back in, groaning in satisfaction. 

“You’re taking my fingers so well, can’t believe you’re so tight after being such a whore for Chris” 

You felt yourself clench at his words, burying your face in the sheets to muffle your whine. 

Your relationship with Chris was purely one of give and take. He provided you with a service which you paid for. You had no feelings for him and were sure he had none for you. Yet, choosing Minho over him this one time felt as if you were being unfaithful, but it also made your pussy ache with need for Minho’s touch. You wanted to feel him inside you, and you desperately wanted him to be the one to make you cum over and over again. He picked up his pace and had replaced his mouth with his thumb, which was now rubbing circles on your clit. 

Minho caught on to your attempt at trying to keep yourself quiet and clicked his tongue. With his free hand he grabbed hold of your hair, raising your head slightly so that your face was no longer against the mattress. His new position meant that it was now harder for him to reach your clit, but his index and middle finger never once stopped pumping in and out of you. 

“Now, now, if you don’t make any sound how am I supposed to know whether or not I’m doing a good job. Just for that I might not allow you to cum.” 

“No, please, I’m so close.”

Your words caused him to smirk, seemingly strengthening his ego. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I’d much rather have you cum on my cock, what do you say?” he said, removing his fingers from your heat. He helped you up, allowing you to sit on the bed properly. You eyed him closely as he removed his belt, his pants following soon after. He was left in only his white button up, of which half the buttons were now undone, and his boxers, the shape of his hard cock clearly visible. Minho unclasped your bra and helped you out of your panties, before slipping out of his boxers himself. He took the time to roll a condom onto his length, spreading your wetness onto the head of his dick. He pulled away for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your clit, followed but his palm slapping your pussy a few times. You felt your legs twitch as you ached to be filled up once more. He lined himself up at your entrance, but to your dismay stopping halfway to look over at the door which had previously been locked, swing open. 

You glanced over Minho’s shoulder to see Chris, who still hadn’t finished his sentence, come through the door calling your name, clearly not knowing you would be preoccupied with Minho.

“Mia told me that you’d be in this room, my session got canceled so I figured we could have some fun. Oh, am I interrupting?”

[sanshinexx]

— of windy evenings and everlasting promises

It was an evening like any other. The setting sun had painted the horizon with different shades of red and orange, and the fallen leaves swirled and danced around in the rising wind. Phil was absently frying eggs on the stove, his mind running through the events of the day when the front door opened. Phil instinctively turned his head toward the direction of the door, although he couldn't see it from around the kitchen corner. He could only hear the wind howling outside and the small footsteps that rapidly marched inside the warmth of the house.

“Techno? That you?” Phil called out, turning back to his eggs and expecting to hear his eldest son’s gruff voice answering him. When that answer never came, Phil glanced back in the direction of the hallway.

“Techno?” Phil repeated, now a little confused.

It wasn’t Techno. Instead, his second, now five years old son Wilbur appeared around the corner, his gaze fixed on the floor. 

“Will?” Phil asked, surprised. “I thought you were in bed already. What are y-” He stopped in the middle of his sentence. Wilbur had raised his gaze from the floor and was now staring at his father with wide, teary eyes.

“Dad…?” He said in a small, shaky voice. 

Phil looked taken aback by the young boy’s appearance. His clothes were torn and partly soaked with mud. His hair was a mess, his face bruised and scratched. It looked like his arms and knees were even bleeding. Despite his shock, Phil managed to form a response.

“Will?”’ He said again. When Wilbur sniffed quietly but didn’t answer, Phil abandoned his frying eggs and went to kneel in front of the small boy. “What happened?”

Wilbur looked hesitant for a moment, as if pondering whether to tell the truth or not. After a moment his expression changed from thoughtful to miserable. “Dad, am I a bad guy?” He blurted out and looked like he instantly regretted it. 

Phil blinked and looked at his son’s teary face, clearly horrified. The black feathered wings on his back fluttered slightly as a response to his roaring emotions. “Who told you that?” He asked slowly.

“It was…” Wilbur looked hesitant once again, but then seemed to decide that he might as well tell the whole story since he had already begun. “It was Dream and, uh, the other kids. We were… playing ‘Kingdom’ again... you know, the game we came up with, some time ago?”

Phil nodded in understanding. Wilbur swallowed, sniffed again, and went on with his story. “They… they made me be the bad guy, again. I got angry and told them that I was already the bad guy last time and that I didn’t wanna be the villain again. But they said that it’s the only part I’m good at and that all the other roles are already taken. So they wouldn’t let me change it.” He finished and angrily wiped a couple of tears that had escaped his eyes off his cheeks. Phil wondered what might be the most efficient way to murder a couple of children.

“Why do I always have to be the bad guy?” Wilbur asked miserably and turned his broken-hearted gaze at his very upset-looking father. Phil sighed shakily and suddenly felt much older than he really was. He tiredly ran his left hand down his face in an attempt to contain the anger he felt towards the idiotic kids who had dared to hurt his son in such way. He closed his eyes and stayed silent for a moment before opening his mouth.

“Will, remember what your mother used to say?”

Wilbur startled a little and looked at Phil with wide eyes: he usually didn’t talk about their late mother. Even after all the years gone by, it was still a sore topic for Phil to talk about, for the grief never diminished. “... Yeah?” Wilbur answered uncertainly. 

Phil opened his eyes and locked them with Wilbur with newfound certainty. “‘You get to write your own story.’” He smiled fondly. “You get to choose the part you want to play, and no one else can change that. Okay?”

“... Okay”, Wilbur whispered.

Phil smiled again and spread his arms wide open. ‘’C’mere.”

Wilbur threw himself into the hug, and as the strong, loving arms of his father closed around him, he felt the corners of his mouth turn slightly upwards. Phil gently wrapped his wings protectively around the two of them, shutting out the rest of the world. The world that could be so vile and unforgiving toward its people, but also full of such beauty and wondrous things.

“Did you know that people used to call me the bad guy as well?” He asked in a low voice after a few minutes had passed in comfortable silence. Wilbur rapidly bolted away from the warmth of his father’s chest to stare at him in the eyes, clearly shocked and mouth hanging wide open. The sight seemed to amuse Phil, for grinned widely before continuing. 

“Now, don’t look so shocked”, he chuckled, “what else would you expect from a guy with wings like these?”

It was a fair point. Because as it was, Phil did indeed have two enormous wings sticking out of his back, from right between the shoulder blades. They were black as soot, but he carried them with pride and would always take good care of them. For those who didn’t know him, the wings struck them with fear and the feathers acted as a silent threat for those who would dare to oppose him.

But for those who he knew and held close, the wings were an emblem of strength and safety, the soft feathers carrying a certain promise of warm hugs and comfort within themselves. Which is exactly why Wilbur now looked so confused. Phil just kept affectionately gazing at him with a smile on his lips.

“People used to fear me because of my wings. They thought I was a demon sent from the underworld, or, I don’t know, something else just as silly. Some would even call me Lucifer, and thought I’d come on earth to bring destruction to all its inhabitants.” Phil looked like the thought was very amusing to him. “They used to call me ‘The Angel of Death’,” he chuckled. Wilbur, however, didn’t seem to find this funny and looked even more frantic and wide-eyed than before.

“But that’s stupid!” Wilbur cried, sounding almost offended for his father’s sake. “You… you aren’t a bad guy! Or… or Lucifer!’’ He went on, now agitated. 

“Yes, yes, I know”, Phil reassured him. “But do you see what I’m trying to teach ya here?”

Judging by the boy’s expression, Phil assumed the answer to be a ‘no’. He sighed again, and the tired look flashed on his face again for a small moment, before a defiant expression took its place.

“Will, you can’t let other people define you. They don’t know who you really are, and they don’t get to decide what part or role fits you the best. That”, He poked his finger at Wilbur’s chest, “is all up to you.’’ The smile had fallen from Phil’s lips, but the fond look still persistently lingered in his eyes. 

“And I want you to know that no matter what part you choose for yourself, I will always be proud of you. Just remember that”, Phil finished and grabbed Wilbur, who looked like he was about to start crying again, back in his arms.

Wilbur stayed quiet for a long while but eventually managed to get the one final question out of his mouth.

“Promise?” He breathed in an oddly squeaky and high-pitched voice. Phil smiled.

“I promise.”

.

.

.

It was an evening like any other. The biting wind was blowing somewhere afar, its mourning song echoing along the walls of the murky tunnel. 

A lanky figure of a young man took shape in the middle of the dimly lit underground room.

Wilbur stared hollowly at the small wooden button in front of him. The sound of his friends and companions celebrating could faintly be heard from somewhere outside, as if they lived and existed in another world of their own. A world where the war was over, where they could finally be happy.

How could they be so stupid, so naive? thought the man bitterly. Why should they celebrate and live happily ever after, when he was left suffering. Why couldn’t they understand? The man laughed. Nay, this story didn’t have a happy ending. He supposed happy endings didn’t exist for people like him.

“This is it, father”, the young man whispered. And that was it. His last confession, his last atonement, which only the empty walls were there to receive. The calm before the storm had passed, and all that remained was him, the cold room, and the wooden button.

“This is the story I have written.”

He took a step forward.

“This is the path I have chosen.”

Another step.

“I wonder…”

He smiled.

“Does that promise still stand?”

And all that remained was the ringing in his ears, the scorching heat of the explosion, the screams of agony echoing across the land of once very big and not blown up L’manburg.

His story, his great unfinished symphony,

now forever incomplete.

.

.

.

It was a night like any other. Except it wasn’t. The wind had long since died down and the sound of rain had overtaken the smoking land. Soil and rocks occasionally fell from the roof of the secluded underground room, which now had a gaping hole where there had been a wall just moments ago. The ground was wet. Falling from the sky, the water now had access to the room for the first time in forever, and it seemed to relish on the given opportunity. A couple of black feathers were laying on the ground, but no one seemed to notice nor care that the feathers were left lying there, soaked and forgotten.

There were many things amiss on that rainy night. A nation brought down to its knees, its people left without a home, hopelessly gathering its broken forces. A young boy crying out for their lost friends, injured and afraid. The memory of a fallen tyrant, wiped out of everyone's mind in the midst of the chaos and the pain. A lone son, yet unaware of the knowledge it had just become an orphan.

A father, clutching the cold and frail body of his son in his strong and warm arms. The angel of death caring for a broken soul who so entreatingly sought for its company, for the comfort of eternal rest and peace.

A silent apology, a final goodbye, an everlasting promise.

A promise left unbroken.

[lemonpeter]

STARKER by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 4: Reunion

A/N: things are moving along! we can’t wait to hear what you guys think! - bloo and bri

Warnings: death mention, Peter is still 17 (that isn’t changing), marriage discussion, resurrection (in a way), mention of trauma

Masterlist ao3

————

Ned stared up at the overly large glass doors in front of him. “Whoa.”

The new SHIELD headquarters was pretty impressive, mirrored glass making up the entire outside. An interesting choice for a building that got attacked quite a bit, but maybe it was reinforced glass. It wasn’t his place to judge.

The agent that had been sent to pick him up simply looked at the teenager blankly before snapping his fingers a few times in quick succession. "Inside, please."

"Oh, yeah, okay right." Taking a step forward, Ned walked through the doors when they slid open. "So, uh, do you know where I am supposed to go, exactly?" He looked over at Grumpy expectantly.

"Front desk," was the only response he received as the man walked away from him.

So much for that. "Thanks," Ned muttered to himself, clutching the straps of his backpack and making his way to said front desk. Not off to a great start. The first guy definitely was not the most helpful person in the world, but maybe someone else would be. He hoped that would be the case.

The blonde woman sitting behind the desk looked up at him, pausing her typing. "May I help you?" She didn’t sound unkind, so Ned decided to try his luck.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I think so. I'm here to see-"

"Leeds."

His head jerked up as he heard the voice. That was not at all something he had expected. It was hard enough to convince himself that the email was real, but he hadn’t even dreamed that he’d be having any direct interactions with the man in front of him. "Holy shit, you're Nick Fury! I mean- uh- yes, Ned Leeds, that's me.”

There was a moment of tension before the director narrowed his eye in Ned’s direction and spun around on his heel."Come with me. You need to be fingerprinted and we need to get you a badge."

“A badge? Like- the kind someone who works here gets?”

“Not exactly.”

Throughout the whole process, Ned was wide-eyed with amazement. Everything was so cool. The whole thing had to be a dream, and he was sure he was going to blink and wake up in his bedroom. He repeatedly did his best to hold back streams of thrilled babbling and little noises of excitement.

He still hadn’t held back as much as the director had hoped.

“You’ll be working with one of our agents,” Fury groused, pausing as the door to the briefing room slid open to allow them to enter. He stepped away from the teen to sit in the dark leather desk chair placed at the head of the long glass table. Looking down at his watch, he sighed before raising his gaze back up. “Oliver will be your point person. You’re not to bother anyone else, understood?”

Ned nodded his head a few times in quick succession. “Yes sir, Mr. Fury, sir.” When the man’s eye narrowed at him, he hastily corrected himself. Shit. “Sorry, sorry- Director Fury. Sir.” He hurriedly let himself fall into another desk chair to Fury’s right and waited for further instructions.

None came. The only sounds to be heard were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft whoosh of their breathing. What was with no one giving him any information? It was unnerving, as was the silence, and Ned couldn’t help himself-

“So, uh-,” he started, fiddling with his backpack, which he was now clutching in his lap. “When’s this Oliver guy supposed to get here? What like, department is he from?”

Fury merely stared at him blankly, expression giving absolutely nothing away. “That’s classified information.” His eyebrow twitched minutely, betraying the fact that he was fucking with Ned, but the teen didn’t pick up on it.

“Oh, oh okay. Well what can I know? Like- How am I supposed to help you guys-”

The door burst open, a slight female form rushing into the room, arms full. “Sorry I’m late, Director,” she breathed, nearly gliding along the floor as she made her way to a seat on the opposite side of the table from Ned, beside Fury. Her glasses were slipping down the slope of her nose and she hurriedly pushed them up with the side of her hand. She took a deep breath before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had come out of the intricate braiding atop her head. “I-”

The man sighed and shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear it Oliver-”

Ned’s mouth was open wide as he stared at the girl woman across from him. “Huh? But you’re-”

His interjection made the young woman turn her attention on him, a smile overtaking her kind face. “Oh! You must be Mr. Leeds! It’s nice to meet you, thanks so much for coming in. We could really use your help to locate your friend Peter.” She stuck her hand out, delicately French-tipped fingers shining in the light. “Paige Oliver, SHIELD Agent.”

Palm slightly clammy, Ned’s fingers twitched as they shook hands. “Paige,” the teen whispered, awestruck, before catching himself. “I mean, um, Oliver?” His cheeks flushed a little and he cursed himself and pulled his hand back. How was he supposed to address her? He had not been prepared to be working with a girl, much less one as pretty as this agent was. She couldn’t be that much older than him, probably an older teen, but only 25 at most. Fuck. “I’m uh, I’m Ned. Guy in the chair.”

Paige grinned at him, dark eyes lighting up behind her lenses. “Welcome to the team.”

Fury just rolled his eye with a huff as he waved a hand through the air. “If you two are finished- Oliver, catch him up to speed.”

***

Peter looked up from his notebook when he heard footsteps padding across the carpet of the sitting area. His eyes burned slightly and he couldn’t help but wonder just how long he’d been working. It was hard to keep track of time in the illusion. “Hey T,” he smiled, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at Tony.

“Hi yourself,” the older man replied, looking rather cozy in his sweatpants and t-shirt as he sat down on the couch beside his fiance. His arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulders and he pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “Whatcha workin on? Wedding stuff?”

Peter sighed, snuggling into the embrace. It was so nice to just be held. “How’d you guess?” Like it hadn’t been all he’d been working on since the proposal.

Tony chuckled. “You get this little wrinkle- right here,” he poked the middle of Peter’s forehead before smoothing the pad of his finger over the area. “Means you’re focused too hard on something.”

Letting out a little huff of a laugh, the teen let himself relax a bit more, head falling to rest on Tony’s shoulder. He liked how the man picked up on some of his body language or little quirks. “Yeah, some of this is just- it’s taking a lot more work than I thought it would.”

The billionaire made a soft noise. “Anything I can help with, baby? You know I don’t mind.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I… It’s okay, thank you, though. I really wanna do this- wanna surprise you, y’know?”

“Well, how about I-” Whatever Tony was beginning to say was cut off by the sound of Peter’s stomach growling. Loudly. He laughed before continuing, “How about I go get started on some lunch? You keep working, and I’ll call you when it’s ready, okay?”

“That sounds amazing, Tony, thank you.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“I love you too.” Opening the notebook back up once he could hear Tony banging around in the kitchen, Peter stared at his next task, one he’d been avoiding: the guest list. The blank guest list.

Other than himself and Tony, there were only a few people that he wanted there. He wanted his family to be there to see him get married, to see him finally get his happy ending.

Too bad everyone he’d ever loved was dead. (Except for May, but- He didn’t want to think about that.)

But...maybe he could bring them back. Just like he’d done with his new fiancé.

Just the thought made his heart beat faster in his chest, the possibility of seeing them all again. Uncle Ben. Fuck, his mom and dad. He’d give anything to hold them, to see their smiles and hear their laughter-

Before really even thinking about it, his pen was flying across the page. Mom. Dad. Ben. May.

He paused after the last one. He felt- Was it wrong to bring May back? She wasn’t really gone, not in the same way that the others were. She was just- missing. Fuck, he missed her so much. But maybe this was something he would have to do without her. Tears stung his eyes as he crossed her name out with a shaking hand.

Mom. Dad. Ben.

No. It looked incomplete with one of the most important people in his world missing. Wiping the tears away, Peter started writing again.

Mom. Dad. Ben. May.

***

“Have you guys tried to access EDITH?” When no one responded, instead just looked at him blankly, he furiously began flicking through the holograms in front of him, looking back and forth between it and his laptop. “Okay so EDITH is this really cool AI that Mr. Stark-”

Fury was quick to interrupt. He was doing his best to make sure there was no more rambling than was truly necessary. “We know about the tech, Leeds. But what reason would Parker have for creating illusions or utilizing the world’s most powerful armed-drone weapons system?”

“Look,” Ned sighed, fiddling with a pen. It made him feel weird, talking about Peter like this. “I know Peter. Probably better than almost anyone else. He...never really dealt with Mr. Stark’s death, and all of that stuff that happened in Europe with that Mysterio guy really didn’t help. Add in him being outed as Spider-Man?” He’d done a lot of thinking about this. And if he was honest with himself, he’d kind of known what was going on as soon as he knew his best friend had gone missing.

He desperately wanted to be wrong, but he knew that he wasn’t.

The young man shook himself out of his thoughts and continued. “He’s...hiding. He doesn’t want to be found because, well- Everything’s gone wrong here, for him. So he’s gone somewhere where nothing can go wrong.” His words only served to further convince himself as he said them out loud for the first time.

Nick stared at the teenager. “You’re telling me that Parker is creating his own alternate reality where everything is sunshine and fucking rainbows? He’s running around making daisy chains?”

Paige’s brows were furrowed as she tapped the cap of her pen on the table. “It’s a fairly normal and reasonable reaction, actually. Healthy, in some circumstances, though I’m not sure about this one. Mr. Leeds is right, Mr. Parker has dealt with extreme levels of trauma recently, and he’s most likely gone untreated if he’s anything like his older counterparts. He’s attempting to protect himself.”

Rolling his eyes, Fury turned his attention from the young agent back to their new ‘consultant’. Lord help him. “So you think he’s out there, unsupervised and unstable, with a multimillion dollar piece of Stark tech? Great. How do we find him, Einstein?”

Ned began typing furiously on his laptop. “Well, uh, I kinda already tried? I asked Paige, I mean- Agent Oliver, sorry, for access to SHIELD’s file on EDITH from last summer. I was able to look at the program logs and analyze their code. Once I figured out what I was working with, I was able to bypass some of the encrypted security features and download the logs up til now.” He frowned a bit, pausing. “I can see that the EDITH program has been in use recently- but the dispatch data for the drones… The location is scrambled.”

“So what you’re saying is we still don’t know where he is.” Paige’s voice was slightly amused.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The director’s most definitely was not.

“Hey, we might not know where he is, but we can at least get in contact with him now. Well- hopefully. Maybe. Since I was able to access EDITH’s archives and- basically, I think I can hack deeper into her programming and alter Peter’s illusions remotely.”

He thought back to the footage he had seen when he’d cautiously (read: uneasily- there had been things he’d never wanted to witness his best friend doing) made his way through the most recent files in EDITH’s archives in order to make sure Peter was indeed the one using the tech. And he definitely was. There was a lot to unpack there, especially considering the amount of time Peter was spending wearing the glasses.

But he was thinking specifically about the way Peter had written May’s name down on the notebook page titled “Guest List” before scratching it out, then repeated the whole process all over again several times.

This was definitely going to hurt his friend, Ned knew. But he also knew that it was for Peter’s own good. Hopefully the other teen would realize that in time, too.

“I think we should send May Parker in.”

***

Tony and Peter were laying on the couch in the living room, watching TV and cuddling. Or, well, their legs were cuddling. The older man was seated on one side, while Peter was stretched out on the other, their lower limbs entwined with each other under the fluffy throw blanket that the teen had claimed as his own.

Tony pointed his toes, pressing them into the meat of Peter’s thigh. “What’s up, baby? You aren’t even paying attention- this is your favorite show.” He waved his hand through the air, the gesture pausing the program. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he turned to study the young man’s face. “You look...anxious, Pete. What is it?”

Quickly trying to school his facial expression into something more neutral, Peter made eye contact with Tony for a second before directing his gaze to the giant flatscreen in front of them. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “Just thinking, y'know? Sorry for getting distracted,” he trailed off as Tony started the show back up again.

He had made up his mind about bringing his family back. He missed them and wanted to spend time with them, share this part of his life. There was no reason not to; it wouldn't hurt anyone.

Anyone other than Peter, that was. But he’d already worked on coming to terms with that.

So he was starting to second-guess himself. What would happen when it was time to say goodbye? Could he handle that?

Or- actually, he never got to say goodbye to them in the first place. His parents had died miles away from him. He'd been young enough that he couldn't really remember them dropping him off with his aunt and uncle when they left for their trip. He hadn't been with Ben when he was murdered. Maybe this time he could finally get the closure he so desperately needed, on his own terms.

This would help him in the long run, he was sure of it. The whole thing would.

With his mind now made up, Peter reached his arm out to grab at Tony's hand, which squeezed his comfortingly. He watched the action on the screen without really following what was happening, debating the best way to move forward.

Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing for a moment.

Then the elevator gave a soft ‘ding’ behind them, and FRIDAY’s gentle voice rang out through the penthouse, signalling that someone was on their way up.

Peter felt like all the tension he’d been holding in his body released at that moment. He was ready.

Tony, however, jumped a bit in surprise, the sudden interruption pulling his attention away from the TV, and turned to look at Peter with a confused look on his face. “Who- Are we expecting someone, Pete? Did you order pizza or something?” Waving his hand again, the program paused once more.

A nervous chuckle escaped Peter’s lips as he wiggled his way out from under the blanket. Thankfully the AI hadn’t mentioned exactly who was on their way up. “Or something,” he said, pushing himself off the couch. He walked up the two little steps to the main area of the penthouse, stopping a few feet from the elevator. The LED screen above the door indicated that it would be arriving momentarily, only two floors away.

The older man slowly made his way towards the teen. “Peter?” He sounded a bit anxious too, feeding off of his partner’s energy.

Shaking his head, Peter shot Tony a quick smile, one that he hoped was reassuring. He thought he’d had more of a grip on his emotions, at least from the other’s point of view. He would have to do better, couldn’t let his control slip so easily. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. Just- There’s some-”

Another ding, this one a bit louder, and the doors opened.

“Peter?”

Tears immediately welled up in the young man’s eyes when he heard the voice say his name. A sob erupted from his mouth as he brought his shaking hands up in an attempt to muffle it. “Mom,” he cried, barely even glancing at her before he was all but running into the arms that hadn’t held him in over a decade. “Mama- I-”

Mary ran her hand through her son’s curls, pulling him close to her chest. “Oh, Petey, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby, I’m right here.” She hummed softly, squeezing him tighter.

Peter shook his head, forehead digging into his mother’s collarbone. He didn’t want to let go, never wanted to let her go ever again. He felt like he was back to being six years old. She still smelled the same, like honey and vanilla. Like safety and home. “Missed you, missed you so much-”

Richard laughed softly from his place beside his wife once his son had started to calm down a little. “And what am I, Pete, chopped liver?”

“No, of course not,” the teen mumbled, turning his head to smile shakily at the man. One of his hands came up to wipe some of the tears away while the other stayed clutched around the fabric of Mary’s sweater. “But you’re not Mom.”

His father only laughed some more, moving to wrap his arms around them both. “It’s good to see you, bud. We’ve missed you something awful. Look how big you’ve gotten.”

“I’ll say!” Ben's exclamation made another choked sound bubble up from his nephew's lungs. His warm, booming voice broadcasted his happiness as much as the grin on his face. “Not a rugrat anymore, are ya champ?”

"Hi Uncle Ben," Peter said through more tears, overwhelmed at the sight of the man he'd grown to love as much as his own father.

After a moment and a few more pleasantries, the group started to move towards the sitting area, and Peter didn’t stray far from them, content with letting himself be enveloped by all the love he’d missed for so long, even as he heard Tony begin introducing himself to everyone.

But someone was still missing. He glanced behind his family in the direction of the elevator, trying to focus again.

May was supposed to be there too. She had to be, he couldn’t do this without her.

***

“Dammit, Leeds, patch her through,” Fury urged impatiently, closely watching the screen where they could see the illusion playing out in real time.

Ned winced in response, switching around a bit of the coding in what he hoped would be the last step. He hadn’t really had enough time to perfectly add any more tech to the program, but even his minor modifications would be helpful. They needed anything they could get in order to try and get through to Peter.

Hopefully his attempt would work.

He turned to look at May, who was watching everything with wide eyes. "You ready, May?"

And for a second, she didn't know how to answer that. The woman wasn’t so sure about getting involved with SHIELD, but she was desperate to have Peter back. She wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Things had been weird ever since Tony Stark died- well, weirder than the new normal of her teenage nephew moonlighting as a superhero. So there wasn’t any hesitation on her part when she agreed to going into his illusion.

It seemed complicated, but maybe that was just because she hadn’t ever been very into technology. Anything other than her phone seemed to be beyond her understanding.

Ned had managed to get an old virtual reality headset semi-patched into the EDITH program. In theory, it would allow May to see and participate in the illusion that Peter was living. And the hope was that he’d just think she was part of it until she could get to him. Then she could talk some sense into him and convince him to come home where he belonged.

“Alright May, here we go,” the teen spoke up again despite her silence, eyes back on his computer screen. “Anything coming up yet?”

May sighed and shifted her position in the chair, about ready to pull the stupid headset off. She knew that she probably looked pretty ridiculous to everyone else in the room. And for what? All she saw was a black screen, mocking her with its emptiness. “No. Nothing. It’s just-“

Suddenly there was a flicker of light that turned into a hazy mess of colors- It almost looked like what she saw without her glasses. “Wait, I think I might have something!”

A hush took over the room as all eyes were on May, everyone waiting with bated breath to see if their efforts would be successful.

“Remember what we discussed earlier, you have to act like you’re part of his world. He can’t know that you’re actually you yet. It is imperative that you assimilate into his alternate reality,” Paige said from where she was standing across the room, watching as the older woman began to turn her head about, clearly trying to explore her surroundings. “We might only have one shot at this!”

May took a deep breath and nodded. Yeah, no pressure. She definitely remembered. She had been instructed to keep her feelings in check until they either got Peter to shut the whole thing down or they learned his location. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t act differently than how Peter expected her to in the scene he’d set. Which was going to be- challenging, to say the least. Because she definitely had a lot of feelings about this whole situation going on between him and Mr. Stark.

Ned’s hands flew across the keys, his whole focus on successfully getting May into the illusion and to Peter. He had to save his best friend. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, otherwise.

The whole picture slowly came to life before May’s eyes, blurred blobs sharpening into recognizable objects, and she could no longer hear the commotion of the people around her. All she heard was-

She heard the sound of Ben's laughter, mingling with the voices of Richie and Mary, and her heart somehow sank to her stomach and jumped up into her throat at the same time.

He’d really brought them all back.

***

The elevator dinged once more, the missing piece to Peter’s puzzle walking out with a gentle smile on her face as she looked around the open layout apartment. May made eye contact with Peter and her face immediately lit up. “Oh, Peter. Hi baby, it’s so good to see you.”

Peter’s own eyes widened, and he grinned as he took a step towards her. He heard his uncle cry out happily behind him, “There you are, May! What’d you do, get lost?” At the same time, the hair on his arms stood on end and a shiver ran down his spine. And huh- he must’ve missed his aunt even more than he thought, in order to be excited enough for this type of-

With a gasp and a panicked cry, Peter’s eyes flew open as he fumbled with the glasses until they went flying from his face. The sound of them hitting the padded floor vaguely registered in his mind. He turned his head left and right frantically, while simultaneously springing to his feet and leaping up into the corner where the ceiling met the wall.

His heart was racing in his chest and thudding in his ears as his eyes darted around the room, trying to locate the threat that his extra sense was picking up on. (He refused to call it the Peter-Tingle on principle.)

It was silent for five minutes as he sat there, shaking and blinking back tears. Nothing had happened- Karen said there were no other heat signatures within a 70 mile radius. There was obviously no threat but- What the fuck was that?

His spidey-sense had been haywire for a while, yeah, ever since he came back after the Blip. But it was always a case of them not alerting him to potential threats, never had they been overactive like that, unnecessarily hyper-vigilant.

Maybe it was all the stress finally catching up with him.

Trying to control his breathing, Peter let himself drop down to the floor, landing in a crouch. He stood up and slowly made his way over to the gym mats he had been lounging on. The teen spun around in a circle once he reached them, searching the ground for the blue-framed lenses.

They weren’t too far away so he retrieved them in a couple steps and ran his finger over the dark glass. There didn’t seem to be any damage, thankfully. He’d never forgive himscame backthing happened to the glasses. They were the only good thing he had left.

Tucking back into his prior position, Peter curled up on the cushioned surface. After looking around a few more times, listening as hard as he could, he sighed and placed the glasses back on his face.

He had a family to get back to, and he didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer than he already had.

[meenah-chan]

Requested by: @zimelu-eloni-nova-lycan (hope you see this since I can't tag you ಥ‿ಥ)

My apologies in advance if Malleus is OOC. Other than wanting to play TW and doing a bit of research of him, I know nothing 😂 I never thought of taking requests coz I'm a slow writer but it was quite interesting so I did it anyways. (And took daaays to finish 😂)

To Thine Own Self Be True

An OM! Brothers x GN! Dark Fae MC (slight OM! X Twisted Wonderland crossover)

5.47k words

Genre: flangst

Trigger warnings: self harm, violence, self depreciation? (cringe jk) Read at your own discretion.

"You're an incomplete puzzle... I hope you find your missing pieces." And thus, they were sent to someplace they didn't know...

They... have always been alone. But Y/N is not lonely. They have Malleus, a powerful yet caring brother. They have their grandmother, that even as busy as she is, tries to show her love as much as possible.

They are the only one they need. As long as they have them, they needn't anything else. Or atleast they think so.

"As a part of royal family, you have to broaden your horizon." But they think otherwise.

Before Malleus' departure for Night Raven College, he left Y/N a word, "You're an incomplete puzzle, Y/N. I hope you find your missing pieces." and that was months ago, and they were still confused by it.

Incomplete puzzle... It doesn't feel like they are. They are content of what they have. They capable of doing most tasks perfectly. They fulfill their responsibilities impeccably. It's not like they can't live on their own either. Having no friends and acquaintances but they're two family members is also fine. They don't need any more. No one who could stand their presence anyways.

The intimidating dark energy far more destructive than a fae possessed, in which Y/N could never control. Those menacing, sharp green eyes. Their skin as pale as the dead corpse, and lips charred black. But most of all, those pair of disgustingly sharp, black horns that keeps on growing back no matter how hard they try to get rid of it.

Y/N is the epitome of fear. They knew it more than anyone. If they were to be reckoned that way, it is better to maintain distance from everyone.

But I should fulfill my duty, atleast. They thought, fortifying their resolve as they stood before the future King of Devildom and his butler. "Welcome to Devildom, Y/N Draconia."

"It's an honor to be of your acquaintance, Prince Diavolo." Placing a palm on their chest, Y/N bowed.

As per the two Kingdom's agreement, they were to live in a safe place different from a lavish lifestyle they have been used to inside their gold plated walls. And thus they were led by the Future king's shadow, Barbatos, to their new home. The House of Lamentation.

House of Lamentation. What a gloomy and dreadful place, befitting a sinister being like me. they scoff.

But the sight the dark fae witnessed within that walls was not within their expectations.

"Beel! Don't eat the my wallet! H–Hey, I said let go! My goldie'll snap! B–Belphie, help me!" A white-haired man is pulling a leather wallet from the teeth of a bulky orange-haired one.

"Smells chicken mushroom oil." While the orange head kept their teeth sunk into the wallet almost ripped into two. "It's just a drop, stop going crazy over it!"

"Belphie, wake up! You promised you'll help me with clearing dungeons today! The raid will start anytime now!!" A violet haired male violently shakes an asleep man in blue but the man is far from dazed at all.

"Hrmm... Five more minutes—" "We have no more time!! I can't play with a missing player!"

A feminine faced guy appeared right in front of them, instantly invading their comfort zone and kept locking eyes with them. "Ohh? Who is this with you Barbatos? Ahh, The one moving in! You're quite early, darling. Ignore those bunch in the back and play with me?"

"Behave, you fools!!" A booming voice reverberates and in an instant, the rowdy bunch is silenced. "Such a disgrace..."

Except for one, who didn't make any ruckus until that very moment.

A bucket came flitting up in the air and in the next second, all of its contents all poured on the man who controlled the ruckus a while ago.

"SAAAAATAN!!" It was an utter chaos. This place far from the gloomy place they have in their imagination. It is filled with rabid demons that could obliterate them were they to join forces, and now Y/N have to adjust in this new environment.

"I see it's not a great time to introduce myself." Said Y/N, yet the only one who probably heard them is the butler beside them. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to know where my room is."

"As you wish, your Excellency. Allow me to lead you the way." The butler responded to them. They left the common room, where the rowdy ones moments ago, were trying to suppress the supposedly-most decent of the seven, from destroying the mansion.

Y/N usually do not receive a normal greetings on the events they've been into or more like, forced to come by either their grandmother or by Malleus. It could be the fairies either— gives them space with no one dare shorten the distance; reluctantly greet them before leaving them as fast as they could or; flat out ignore them.

Yet so far, the experience I have today is by all odds, the most insulting way I have ever been greeted. Y/N clasps their trembling hands as they sat on the bed.

I wish this will end sooner. This will be a hell for me...

Almost everyday is a crazy, eventful day. Far different than their everyday life in the Valley of Thorns, their homeland. First impression doesn't really matter to Y/N, but for some reason, they couldn't stand them since day 1. Sure, they haven't done anymore distasteful things like the rude way of welcoming them. Still, the members of the family are crazily weird in their own ways. And they hate it.

Lucifer is the eldest of the brothers. The one who leads the brothers and manage everything in place.

"As your family have wished, you were to live differently than you have thus far. So I won't exempt you with the cooking and housework."

"As a part of Royal family, I expect great things from you. I won't tolerate screw ups."

"Remember to complete your tasks. I am assigned by Diavolo to take care of you, so I will check on your activities throughout your stay here." He is an ass. A bossy and dominating dictator who think he could order a royalty like them.

But one time, when they entered his study, they saw a scene they never thought they'll ever perceive.

*Tak* A fountain pen falling from his gripless hand.

He was splayed on his desk filled with tall stacks of paper, out cold. Y/N didn't know they would witness such vulnerable side of such condescending demon.

So they chose to put off their business for tomorrow, placing his coat over him and letting him rest.

But the event didn't occur only once. Atleast twice a week of exact time before midnight, he's always been unconscious on his desk. That's when Y/N realized: he is not strict and short tempered for no reason.

As the eldest, he took it to himself to be the father figure to the brothers, all while perfectly doing his job as Diavolo's right-hand man. He fulfills his job with perfection. But perfection doesn't come without hardwork nor sacrifices. For the sake of his great responsibility he sacrifice himself, working so hard until he drop on his desk.

With thoughts of him made Y/N ponder over something.

Does having a father feels like having a Lucifer in my life? Maybe it is, they never knew since they never remember their's. He isn't as bad as they thought he were if they think it that way. That is praiseworthy, as they think so themself and deserve some respect.

No more stern expressions whenever speaking to him. Being more compliant if his instruction is reasonable. Thanking him even for a simple thing he does for them.

Soon, they noticed he doesn't nitpick them either and praise them for every job well done. The dark fae may still be annoyed with him but that's not a bad outcome at all.

And then there's Mammon, the second eldest, who is supposed to assist the eldest.

"Ye're a royalty right? So ye're loaded. I'm in a pinch right now so let me borrow from you." He leans on their shoulder, with his smug grin.

"Don't listen to that fool. It's past 200 years and he still haven't paid his debts to me yet."

"Shut up, you otaku!"

Behind violet-haired appears the black haired demon. "MAMMON..."

"EEK— W–Wait!! Lucifer, this is not wha–ACK—!!" Mammon is a scum. A rude demon who could care less of his words and language. Trouble is where he is. Even so, in his tough exterior, Y/N took note of a soft side.

Y/N saw him one time, poking at the mopping otaku demon outside his room. "Yo Levi. What you doin' there?"

"Just let me be... I lose my raid last time because I couldn't play... Now I can't even bear looking at my PC... No one would want to play to a no-show gamer like me..."

"Hmm... Then, it can't be helped. C'mon, your big brother Mammon will play with you!"

"R–Really..?"

"Yeah, Yeah. Let's play to your heart's content" He pulled him up and push him inside his room.

Consoling a sad brother, lending a helping hand when they need it. He may not look like it, but Mammon is also taking good care of his brothers. All the emotional support Lucifer fails to give his brothers, Mammon provides.

So before Mammon entered the room, the dark fae decided to tap his shoulder, earning his attention. "You really love your brothers."

"W–Wha... Where does... who loves—"

"That's really admirable." They promptly reach out a bottle of a jet-black faerie dust only they could concoct. Mammon gingerly took it from them and scanned the inside. "That may help you settle some of your debts. Then..." After giving the bottle, they went on their way.

"AAAAHHHH!! THIS IS ULTRA RARE!" As expected to a man who could appraise goods.

They remember Malleus from his caring side, they couldn't help but smile and commend the yellow demon. I miss my brother...

Leviathan on the other hand, has a different case. He is the third-born of that household. A timid person... At first glance, atleast.

They just can't understand him. He spoke in language they couldn't wrap their head around like, "LOL! ROFLMAO!", "Tss, normie..."

It is tolerable, at least. What they can't tolerate is the fact that,

"UUWAAH!! MY RURI-CHAN LIMITED EDITION COBALT PIN AND FIGURINE IS HERE!!" He is, by far, the loudest. His sudden and unexpected outbursts kept on triggering every jumpy cells in their system.

Leviathan is too hyped he seemed to enter his own dimension. He skipped through the corridor, he sung a Ruri-whatever song that is, until, "Ahh—" he made a misstep in the stairs, a few steps away from them.

Y/N dashed and caught them barely in time, with firm hold between his shoulder blades and another to his package, which should be flying right now but was pressed secured to his chest.

"You should be more careful or you'll hurt yourself. Your treasured package almost fell." They sighed.

"... An angel has descended." He stared at them in awe. As he move his hand to the box, he touched their hand. That's when their position fianally sinks in to him. His face flared beet red and in a few seconds blew a fuse, passing out right on the spot.

"... What a troublesome demon..." With no other choice but to bring him themself, he carried the unconscious Leviathan up to their room. After opening the door, what welcomed them is a messy room.

No, not messy. The room is filled with items and materials of all sorts. Tons of CDs, figurines and posters on shelves and walls. Stuff toys and pillows of all shapes and sizes. Hanged intricate costumes and clothes, which in just a glance, they knew is made with effort. Even pins, threads and needle atop a... Sewing machine? Did he made all of this?

Y/N took another glance on the other side of the room. There he saw three monitors with various programs registered. A game, video editor and a Photoshop... I wonder what else can this man do?

Is this what they call a hobby? Such passion and dedication in pursuit of doing what he loves... An unfamiliar feeling for this dark fae.

They... can't really understand this man. Not at all... But I can now see him in another light, I guess...

The one who sought Y/N first were Beelzebub, the sixth-born. A bulky, tall demon who loves to eat. They were having a snack on the balcony when the older twin sniffs his way in. Such action that freaked the dark fae out internally, considering the sight they witnessed when they first moved in. The fact that they saw a few times 'accidentally' eating inedible things doesn't helped at all either.

"I followed the smell from the kitchen. Your cake smells delicious!" The drooling giant stood by them, and they couldn't take another sip from their tea.

"Hmm... Help yourself." Or you may help yourself with my flesh if I didn't satisfy your hunger.

"Really?!" He sat oposite to them and within minutes, all the plates on the table were wiped clean. "That was delicious!... Ahh that's right. Y/N, why aren't you eating with us during meals?"

"I'm used to eating by myself."

"But why? Eating with someone make the food taste better." Y/N doubt that'll be the case if that someone is him, who could definitely eat them if his appetite cries its needs.

Beelzebub touched his chin, thinking. "Hmm... How about I eat with you during snacks time? I'll bring food you'll definitely like!"

"Ah—" And they lost their timing. His eyes sparkles like stars and the pure happiness in his voice made it impossible for them to refuse. They wouldn't know what he could do were they to decline what he desire.

Since then he would appear without fail during Y/N's snack time, sharing both of their food with each other.

They tried to slowly end such dangerous activity yet, the enthusiasm in his eyes whenever he eat held them back. In the end, Y/N conceded, increasing their baked goods everyday to sate the needs of the ball of sunshine before them– who could bring warmth or burn them. As a response he will also eat it all like it's his first time eating their goods.

He is a man of few words yet, also quite easy to read, especially when eating the sweets they made themself. A straight forward person who means just as he say.

He would even sometimes bring his other twin, who will eat a few bites before snoozing.

"Beel really likes you, you know..." They glanced from their teacup to the youngest, seating beside them as the gobbling twin is busy with his food.

Belphegor stares in an ever-drowsy eyes. He is the man they least interacted with. How can they? Whenever they see him, he is always asleep. And it's not like Y/N is interested in communicating with him or anyone at all. "He even does his research for everything he brings you here. I don't know if you knew, but he really want to convince you to eat meals with everyone."

"...Ehh? Why? We're not even..." Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Because he loves everything you make. He wants to talk to you ever since the first time you cook, but you're too antisocial to even eat with us."

"Says the demon who is always sleeping whenever I see him." Y/N snorts before taking a bite from the cupcake Beel brought. Hmm... this is good...

"...You, are you getting enough sleep?" Belphegor peers at their face.

"...None of your business."

"Whatever..." He frowns before burrying his face on his pillow.

What a keen observant. Y/N thought.

They've also been observing him since the first day. They share a lot of classes together and the dark fae knew, he is someone who rarely attend his classes, and whenever he does, he is always asleep. They also never saw him hold a book, much more read it. Yet, when they have exams, he finishes halfway the alloted time, almost the same time as them and sleeps after. The worst thing is that he could pass them easily.

He... is a dormant monstrosity. They conclude as they unlock the door to their room the day after. But before they do so, they noticed something.

Beside the door is an unfamiliar paper bag and inside... is a pillow, a bit caved it to the top center—similar to the one they use back to their home to be able to sleep well. It also comes with a note:

'The caneles and the stew is passable. You can throw away the pillow if you don't want it. Just know that it took me a great deal of effort to buy that.'

Really, what a frightening observant.

And there is Satan, the fourth-born, a pretty decent guy who craves for nothing but knowledge. If Y/N may say, he is the one they spend the most time with, though it's not that much.

"What are you reading?" Voicing not a word, they faced him the book cover.

"L’intelletto e Il Cuore... Hmm, that's a good choice." With at least 3 meters away from him, and few to no words exchange between them inside the library, it's not really that much.

He is a rational and intelligent man who respects personal space. Though, from time to time he would snicker eerily between the silence they have, holding either a cursed or homicide book. Creepy.

"What did you say...? The books you borrowed from me... Fell in the river? And it was washed away...?" And when he is angry, all his rationality is thrown out of the window.

"I–I will replace it I promise–" Pleads the peach-haired demon, kneeling before him.

"Replace, you say...? Didn't you know they were a Century membership gift to me from the Bibliomagicus Guild? Do you think that's replaceable...? Ha... Haha...HAHAHAHA!! THEN WHY DON'T YOU REPLACE THEM WITH YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE, HUH?!"

His wrath makes Y/N tremble, like all the bookshelves and books present in the library. Right, the books, the bookshelves. He'll destroy everything if this continues.

"Somnus Enim a Dum." So in a snap they cast a spell, amplified by their own dark pixie dust, and render him unconscious.

"Y/N!" That night he showed up in the library, frantically and still disheveled clothes and hair.

"Thank you. I don't know what would've happen if you're not there. And I also apologize you get to see that side of me." It's the first time they ever saw him smile without looking at the book. A smile similar to their brother.

"You're weird. You got so angry because of books that you'll ruin all the other irreplaceable books here."

"..."

"Don't mind it. I'd feel bad if the books are ruined."

"...Right." He chuckled, brushing his hair with his fingers and fixing his clothes to place. He then picked up the book he's reading, pulling the other sofa to sit beside them.

Now that's annoying. Nevertheless they let him. For they're a mere guest.

The fifth-born, Asmodeus, is not a problem back then. Having only a few occasional invitations for salon and parties, they could decline politely. But after the book incident, everything about his approach changes.

Since then, there was Asmodeus, everywhere!

In the classroom, in the library, in the music room, in the planetarium, in the balcony, in the bed, even the bathroom! He won't give them a break!

"Y/N~ I noticed you're always with Satan in the library. Are you getting along well? Beel too, you always bake and eat with him. That's so unfair! And you invite Belphie without me? Don't tell me you already like one of them?"

"If you'll choose one of us, shouldn't you choose me, the most beautiful demon of them all? I swear I can love you thousandfold than any of them, but... of course you can only be my second~~"

"What's with you and Lucifer? You always went to him every night. Is it a nightly endeavor? Hey~? Y/N, don't ignore me~!" He is a complete chatterbox. A motormouthed demon who don't know when to shut up.

But being with him comes with a few merits. Despite not looking like it, Asmodeus is a real gentleman. He maybe not as keen as Belphegor's capability to observe, but Asmodeus is an attentive and thoughtful demon. He does his everything to provide every small help he could give to them.

Whilst not needing help, it's much better than him being a clingy, dead weight. Y/N tries to look at the bright side.

"But this is tiring..." Y/N sighed, closing the book they are holding.

"Are you tired of reading? C'mon, let's go out and breathe fresh air!" I'm tired of you, you idiot.

"If you want to go out, you can go." The dark fae massaged their temple. It's been throbbing from time to time after that incident with Satan and Asmodeus bugged them.

"No! You've always been cooping yourself here or your room since coming here. You have to go out from time to time or you'll wither away!"

"You're so noisy Asmo. Y/N said they don't want to go." Asmodeus pout at Satan sitting beside Y/N, before pulling the dark fae out of the library and House of Lamentation.

"I'm telling you, I don't need this." Asmodeus holds 5 hangers of clothes, pondering which one fit them best.

"But~ It's such a waste for a beautiful person like you if you don't try dolling yourself up..." They stare at Asmodeus as if he just said the most ridiculous thing he could ever say.

"Don't tell me..." Asmodeus stared at them in disbelief, gasping dramatically like he always does,t "Y/N, YOU'RE GORGEOUS! DON'T EVER THINK YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE A DROP DEAD BEAUTY AND—" They covered his lips before he could even shout louder in such a public place.

He then pulled their hands off after a few moments. "And look! A bit of blush suits you! And black lipstick—" Y/N let him dressed them up— in exchange of shutting up. He chose meticulously, accenting every parts that they consider an abomination. A dizzying position they were in.

But the real deal has yet to come. What's worse than being bothered by a bug? More bugs...

"Asmo, are you nuts! You're hogging them all to yourself!" Mammon barged in their room as Asmo is applying makeup to them who gave up on him for a while now.

"Y/N couldn't come to our snack time because of you." Beel and Belphegor followed close behind, clearly unamused of Asmo's action.

"I haven't even got a chance to introduce them to the wonders of anime and games!" So do is Leviathan.

"They prefer reading in the library more, right Y/N?" Satan rest his back on the door frame, crossed arms.

"Excuse me? If I may say, Satan, Beel and Belphie are the one who took their time more than I!"

"YOU—" And their greatest fear since living in Devildom occurs. All hell broke loose. An all out brawl of the short tempered demons before them with all the six brothers, a thread away from transforming and blasting everything they touch. No... That's not it. Without transforming, they're already smashing everything into pieces.

The dressers. The desk. The chairs and mirrors. Everything but the bed they are sitting on.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE!" The last and the strongest of the brothers made his appearance, yelling in his most intimidating voice.

And they...finally snapped.

"Each and everyone of you... GET. OUT!!!" Such horror reflected on their eyes, with their whole being trembling uncontrollably. Tears poured down one after another. All of the emotions the brothers have never seen them make all spilled before them. As if a predator threatened to the end of their life.

On their hands...

were horns severed from their own head. The seven demons were so taken aback their bodies moved on their own to comply to Y/N's order... or more like, plead.

And the doors were completely closed.

They never left their ransacked room. They wouldn't open their doors to anything. No food, gifts nor even apologies. All but the brothers' words received a single response: "Malleus... I want my brother."

Hence the brothers and future king have no choice but to call him as soon as possible, or they will perish inside such place, alone like they've always been.

"Thank you for taking good care of my sibling. I hope you will continue so in the future."

"We also hoped we could. Yet considering the circumstances, I doubt they would want to stay here a second longer."

"Let—" but before Malleus could even finished his sentence, Y/N came flying down on him.

The distressed fae buried their face in their safe haven's chest. He then proceed carrying them in his arms, assuring them they are safe.

Lucifer led them to the music room, giving them privacy in their conversation.

"You've become so light, Y/N. And what happened to your horns?"

"...I wanna go home."

"Why? Do you hate this place?"

"I'm scared of them since the first day."

"That's understandable... But is that all?" Y/N stare at him in disbelief, while Malleus smiling softly at them.

"...Then what else... should I feel? I know I'm a monster... But that doesn't mean I could live with such monstrous demons! I'm just a monster with a weak heart!"

"Then you can blame it all on me. I'm the one who chose this place for you after all." All words were blown off Y/N's mind. The furrow between their eyebrows disappears as their face relaxes.

"Brother... But why?"

"I want you to realize your own self."

"..."

"Now answer me. You said you're scared of them, but do you hate them? Do you want to leave this place so badly? Is that really everything you've felt in this place?"

"Of course! I... I..." Y/N already knew the answer to his question, way before he even asked.

"They were annoying, noisy and self-centered bunch who does things as they pleased. They keep dragging me on their antics, I never had a peace of mind... I hated it, I despise it. I..." They bit their lips.

"I felt so frustrated! Why do they look so lively and happy despite being so unruly? They're always on each others neck yet they were having fun? Why?! And hobbies? How can they have such thing? I have nothing of sort! I just wake up day after day, desperately searching for something and fill this empty void inside me!"

"I fulfill my responsibilities without fail, on what cause? I have no purpose! Seeing that demons made me feel so miserable with my existence!"

They looked on their lap, holding back the tears on verge of falling. "What do they have that I don't? They're also the strongest, incredibly so that even I shook when they unleash their power! So why aren't they isolated like I am? How can they live a normal life unlike me?!"

"I think you already know the answer."

"...Because... They rely on each other. I never relied on anyone nor let anyone rely on me..." Malleus' smile widens when they hit the nail on the head.

"You're a strong person, Y/N. You won't even depend on us, not until today. You're capable of anything. You're just afraid of any more rejection, of being left behind." He paused and lift their face to meet his eyes, "Diavolo and others explained to me what happened. They said the incident frightened you. Yet knowing you, I doubt it is fear. Will you tell me why you blew off?"

"...I was overwhelmed. They were fighting over me. It never happened to me before so don't know what to feel. The attention was too much that I hated it. And I don't know how to respond to them..."

"So you brushed them off and isolated yourself." They nod weakly.

"And you snapped your horns to show them you're not who they think you are; to scare them off."

"Something like that..." Malleus smiled at them as he pet their head. "See? It's not bad being honest to yourself. Do you still want to leave, now that you let it all off your chest?"

Y/N shooked their head. "I want to stay."

"My Y/N is amazing... To surpass all the beings who estranged them. You're all grown up now." He held them in his arms, Y/N nuzzling onto his chest.

"Come on, they've been waiting for you for the longest time. You know what to do, right?"

"Yes." They left the room, Y/N clinging to him like never before. As childish as it seems, Malleus knew they grew a lot in just a few months of living in Devildom. It is indeed a great decision to choose the brothers to take care of them. They were no longer the incomplete puzzle he saw before he left for his studies.

"Y–Y/N..." Waiting in the common room are the seven brothers with Diavolo and Barbatos.

"W–We understand if you really want to l–leave." Mammon looked down as he clenched his fist.

"It was our fault." Leviathan followed.

"We've been insensitive, pressuring you despite knowing you're not accustomed interacting with a lot of people." Satan said with a serious frown.

"We even destroyed your belongings." Asmodeus glanced away, holding onto Satan's jacket.

"We'll make it up to you in any form."

"Y/N, sorry." Belphegor and Beel voiced respectively.

"It was due to my negligence you have to experience such incident. I also want to apologize." Lucifer held his palm to his chest for a slight bow.

"N–No!" Y/N strongly shook their head, "I should be the one to apologize! I'm so sorry!!" before bowing deeply.

"Y/N!? No, please raise your head—" Diavolo held Lucifer's shoulder to stop him like Malleus cued to let his sibling continue.

"It was all my fault! I've been a coward all this time. I was wrong for trying to push you all away when you don't mean harm. It was all my fault for venting all my frustrations to you. Please, if you would still allow it, I want to stay a bit longer."

"Y/N you are more than welcome here so please raise your head now. We don't deserve your apologies." Satan was the first one who walked towards them to raise their head.

"Y/N?!!" But as he did so, a crying Y/N appears in the brothers' view.

"This is the first time I will ever ask someone but," they sob and sniff, "will you guys be my friends?"

"Y–Yes, so please stop crying!" As conflicted as the brothers are, being asked such question that could hinder their future plans with them, they were forced to agree to their wish instantly.

Let's leave it for another day... The same phrase runs in the thoughts of the brothers, a very rare occurence to happen once in a millenium.

With Asmodeus' lead—he, Mammon, Leviathan, and Beel wrapped their arms around them to console the crying faerie. Lucifer, Satan and Belphegor stood a feet away from them, watching the five in the middle.

As things calms down, they decided to sit on the same dinner table for the very first time. Food were served by Barbatos, who prepares who knows when. He could actually have predicted such outcome for all they know.

The place were so warm, and lively. "This tastes wonderful." That's an understatement. The food have the richest taste than everything Y/N ate in their entire life. "You're right, Beel. Food were best eaten with someone." Beel have them a toothy grin. "I'm glad you get me."

After the meal, Y/N fell asleep on the spot. "Hehe, they're so carefree now." Belphegor played with their fringe. They didn't woke them up and instead carry them in a new room, letting them have the deep sleep they couldn't have for days.

"Congratulations, for being Y/N's first friends. I'll leave them in your care." Malleus bid his farewell to everyone, not bothering of waiting for Y/N to wake up. "I also hope this incident will be the last one."

"Yes, we won't let such thing happen again, and ensure a comfortable life for Y/N throughout their stay here." Diavolo answers in stead of everyone. The brothers are not in the shape to reply as they absorb Malleus' first sentence.

First friend. Such a bitter-sweet word. Whether the word stings them or not, it doesn't matter. It won't stop the brothers from trying to achieve the same goal as subtle as possible.

And so, a not-so-obvious scramble goes on.

This took longer than I expect 🤣😂 In all honesty, it was quite challenging, making a blatant All Brothers x MC. I also don't have a plot and flow until I actually wrote it sksksk dunno if that's a good or bad thing 😂🤣 and this was the longest one I wrote for the past half a year.

Masterlist

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part X

That Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts au that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst.... ALL DONE! (besides any editing)

First part // Previous part

Thank you all for sticking with me here. I'm going to make some sweeping edits to this fic on AO3 sometime in the next months, so if you have suggestions, feel free to shoot me an ask. You can also request oneshots if you like :)

Robbe had whiplash. The phone call, the blurry note, the revelation, and now Sander. Sander at his front door. Sander looking into his apartment, at the world he’d done nothing but complain about and avoid while at school. Sander, who suffered like Robbe’s mother without Robbe ever knowing, and who listened to Robbe lament things that were not her fault.

He choked on his breath.

Sander had no problem continuing the conversation. “It wasn’t fake for me, okay? It never was. I need you to get that.”

“Do you want to come in?” said Robbe.

“Who’s at the door?” called his mother from the living room. Robbe bit back the part of him that wanted to hide her away.

Sander shook his head, and water flung from the ends of his hair. “I don’t need to come in. You just had to know that. So when you come back to school, we’ll talk.”

“We could talk, um, now.”

“I don’t want to ruin your Christmas,” said Sander. “Jens said you were free though, so I had to—”

The proximity was too much for Robbe, and maybe for Sander too, because Sander grabbed Robbe by both cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. They should muddle through everything that just went down. They should clear a space in the living room to discuss everything that happened between them during the past few weeks, most of which was still a blur, even to Robbe. They should—

Robbe leaned deeper into the kiss. All that could wait. Kissing Sander felt like breathing air after being trapped underwater.

“Robbe, who’s at the door?” his mother called again.

They broke apart for a second, Robbe’s lips stinging. Sander looked at Robbe, blinked as if surprised, and went right back in for round two. Robbe barely mustered a breath to shout, “A friend,” before Sander’s mouth on his neck sent a shiver down his spine.

“This isn’t talking,” Robbe hissed into Sander’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” said Sander. The physical aspect of their relationship had always superseded communication.

Britt’s note poked out of Robbe’s pocket as they spun into Robbe’s mess of a room. Sander backed him up onto the bed, where Robbe fell back against a pile of clothing. Layers peeled off. They only separated for harmonious milliseconds, just enough time to get a breath or whisper a sentence that meant nothing outside of their bodies pressed together. If Robbe could do wordless magic, he imagined the whole apartment might have been vaporized in one firm wave of euphoria.

He was not unaware of his mother’s presence in their living room, and thus cast the muffiliato charm while Sander’s tongue danced over his teeth. The non-magical lock should hold. Any other noise would become nothing more than static in her ears.

His mother. Whom Sander thought he hated. They needed to talk about it.

Sander slid his hand across the bare skin of Robbe’s stomach.

Maybe they didn’t need to talk about it right now.

In no time, the early-morning sun cast golden rays through the binds on Robbe’s bedroom window. He woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the sheets, and jumped again when he saw Sander’s body wrapped up beside him. Still here. Real. The sunlight made Sander’s face resemble an oil painting, glowing cheeks and serene eyes half-closed against the world. A line of drool cut a pathway down to Robbe’s pillow. Robbe disentangled himself from the bedclothes, pulled on a sweater, and tiptoed out of the room for breakfast. He knew he had some explaining to do.

Sure enough, his mother awaited him. She propped herself up against their kitchen counter, a mug of coffee clasped in her hands.

“Morning,” she said, blasé.

“Morning,” said Robbe.

“I hope you used protection.”

Robbe blushed. “Mom.”

“Robbe,” she imitated. “You bring someone into my house, I don’t see her, and next thing I know she’s in your room. I’m not stupid.”

She. Her. Robbe swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spring him on you. He was supposed to stay on campus.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop, waited for her to notice his pronoun use. Was it a casual way to come out to someone huge? Yes. Did he want to have a larger conversation about his sexuality when he only just understood it himself? Absolutely not.

His mother’s eyes widened. “If you mean to tell me you smuggled Jens in here—oh, his parents already hate me. I’ll have to make a call—”

“It’s not Jens,” said Robbe.

“I should hope not.” Her voice softened. “From the phone last night?”

This was a moment for honesty. Robbe started the coffeemaker and placed a mug of his own under the dispenser. He tried to recall anything awful he’d said about her during his time with Sander, anything that would make Sander think that their relationship couldn’t be real beyond the arrangement. He said, “Yes. I didn’t know he was coming.”

Four weeks. Four weeks had passed since he kissed Sander for the first time in the astronomy tower. So much had happened in that time. What if the whole thing was one long manic episode? No, that was stupid. There were symptoms to mania, and it would be wrong to assume Sander wasn’t completely stable. Lots of people were.

“What’s his name?” It seemed by now his mother had caught on. “You used protection, right?”

“His name is Sander,” said Robbe, “and nothing happened. Honestly.”

His mother waggled her eyebrows at him. He stared down at his bare feet, wondering when Sander would wake up.

The conversation lulled, so Robbe pretended to take a sip of his coffee, even though it was still too hot for his tongue. He supposed he should be thankful that the coming-out experience had not been as hard or as unpleasant as it could have been, but the lack of reaction felt incomplete, far too casual for the scenario in which it was presented.

“So,” said his mother. She looked behind Robbe into the hallway from whence he came, as if scared that Sander would be out of the bedroom at any minute. “That phone call…”

“He was in crisis,” Robbe offered.

“I might have heard my title mentioned once or twice.”

“It’s—” Robbe didn’t know what to tell her it was. He didn’t quite know himself.

Something in his mother’s eyes, though, told him that she did. “Listen,” she said, leaning toward him from her place on the counter. “I feel like there are a few things you and I haven’t really addressed. It’s my fault, in a way, for keeping them unsaid.”

Robbe nodded along.

“You and I, we’re—” Her breath caught. “Lines must’ve been crossed at some point, y’know?”

“I don’t know what that means,” said Robbe.

“It means I love you so much. Even if I wasn’t there for you. I know there are moments that you can’t forgive me for, but—”

“Do we have to have this conversation now?” Robbe was still lightheaded from the previous night, and from waking up next to Sander, and from gathering the courage to casually come out only moments ago.

“Yes, now.” His mother took him by the hand, her fingertips brushing his knuckles, and for a moment, he was with her on the side of the road as a child, watching for passing cars. “I love you, and it’s okay if you hate me. If that’s what you have to do.” Before Robbe could protest once more, she cut him off. “I heard you on the phone last night, and you said you didn’t, I know. But we don’t talk much, do we?”

Robbe burned his tongue on his coffee rather than answer.

“I know that my illness isn’t easy for you to deal with. It isn’t easy for me either. And I know sometimes it feels like we’re not… I don’t know. Sometimes it might feel like I ruined everything.”

He could deny it, but she’d know he was lying.

“Your Sander… in the phone call, well, it seemed like…”

“He has it too,” said Robbe. “Bipolar.”

“Do you love him?”

Robbe dropped his head into her shoulder and inhaled. There were so many moments they missed because of her sickness. There was so much of her that he never wanted to talk about with anyone outside of his father, who knew everything anyway. In the action, though, he hoped she understood everything that he couldn’t say right now: Yes I love him, I’m trying to forgive you, I love you too. I understand you. I’m sorry for the way I talked about you, even if I’m not sure I regret it yet. Sometimes, all you need is time. He knew he’d have to wait for the betrayal to dissipate. Step one was admitting he loved her anyway.

The timer on her phone beeped for medication. She dropped his hand to go for the foyer, where her pills waited on display in the hallway.

Robbe stopped her with a whisper. “I don’t want him to go through what you did.”

“You remember that blood sausage recipe?” she asked. It seemed off-topic, enough to derail Robbe’s train of thought.

“Of course,” he said.

“You and your father had such a great time making it for Christmas every year. I thought maybe—” Robbe’s mother pulled something from her pants pocket, an index card with loopy cursive handwriting.

Robbe looked down at the card, back up at his mother, back down at the card again. He didn’t know what to say, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. “You don’t ruin things. I don’t know why I—”

“Youruin plenty,” Robbe’s mother said. “We don’t need to start coddling each other now.” She motioned him back to his bedroom with a wink. In some bizarre way, they’d reached a tentative understanding.

***

Robbe expected for Sander to be asleep when he returned to bed. In the grand scheme of things, it was still quite early. But Sander was awake, combing the room, searching for his shirt and pants among the chaos of Robbe’s floor. His hair stuck out in all different directions, and Robbe let himself wonder at the warmth it spread through his chest. He’d never felt this way about anyone before. Of course it would be Sander that did it.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, more to be conversational.

“Hogwarts,” said Sander.

Okay, not what Robbe wanted to hear. “What?”

“I’m going back to Hogwarts. Supposed to be there for the holidays.”

It hit Robbe again: the possibility that everything was as fake as their original relationship. Mania, or something. Mania didn’t normally work like that, but— “I thought we had to talk,” Robbe said.

Sander shrugged. “You made it clear you didn’t want to.”

“How?”

“Well, we didn’t.”

“You kissed me,” said Robbe.

Sander abandoned the search for his own shirt and pulled one of Robbe’s threadbare sweatshirts over his head. The bottom skimmed up at his hips, and the sleeves were a little short at the wrists. A moment later, he recovered his jeans. Robbe couldn’t stop him from getting dressed without feeling dirty, so he blocked the doorway as much as someone with his stature could.

“You talked to Jens?” he asked.

“Said you’d be here,” Sander said. “It was a stupid idea. I don’t know why I came. Nothing changed.”

Everything changed. Robbe bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how to articulate the things he was feeling anymore, not in the chaos of all this new information at once.

“I don’t want you to go.” He reached out to hold Sander’s wrist.

Sander shook his hand away. “No, I’m going to ruin everything. That’s why they want me there, that’s why you want me there.”

“I don’t want you there. I want you here.”

They stood at a faceoff, and Robbe dropped Sander’s wrist to make a barrier across the doorframe. Such a motion felt childish. If Sander pushed at his arm, Robbe decided, he’d let Sander through, because he wasn’t here to keep Sander in places Sander didn’t want to be.

No movement. Sander took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. “Even this,” he said. “I feel fine, but it was crazy to come here. Sometimes I do things and they’re crazy and I don’t realize. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Robbe thought about his own mother. She wasn’t crazy. She was sick. He couldn’t promise to feel like he loved her one hundred percent of the time, but he loved her just the same. Never had he hated her.

“I won’t,” he said. “I can’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Then I’ll do my very best.”

The paper that Britt gave Robbe in the astronomy tower shot up from its dejected place on the ground, its requirements fulfilled. The writing shifted from overlapping words, to cursive, to a legible, block print. Robbe would read it to completion later:

Robbe:

I’m not an expert. These are things that have worked in the past. He should tell you more than this.

1. Be there. That’s the big one. Sometimes he’ll ask you to be close to him, other times he’ll want you to leave him alone, and that’s fine. Just be there.

2. Talk to him. It’s his illness and he knows more about his experience than anyone else.

3. He’s not stupid so don’t treat him like he is. I know I do sometimes. Don’t be me for him.

4. Not everything is an episode. It’s going to feel like a lot of stuff is. I don’t know how to get around it.

5. Ask for help when you need it. It doesn’t do anyone any good if you pretend you can take care of everything by yourself.

Britt

But for now, Robbe let it flutter downward once more. He thought back across their time together thus far. Kissing Sander in the Quidditch stands, making out in the upper corner of a classroom, sharing breakfast in the Great Hall. This started as a way to keep Noor off his back, of course, but somehow, it blossomed into a long joyride of self-discovery and love. Love. The word hit him just as hard as it had on their first date by the Great Lake. Sander looked at Robbe like that, and Robbe knew he needed more than a fake relationship. Here it was. All he had to do was show Sander the same.

Robbe couldn’t go anywhere if he tried.

“It was easier when you thought we were pretending,” he said, pushing aside all doubts. No more disclaimers. No more stepping back and letting Sander walk in the other direction. He knew what he wanted. “When it was fake, you didn’t have to worry about me leaving.”

Sander shrugged. “Low stakes. Like a game.”

“Alright then, let’s play a game.” Robbe’s confidence built as he found his stride. He took a step away from the doorway and grabbed Sander’s hands in his own, the smooth skin he’d imagined against his every night this week. Sander let him. “It’s called Robbe and Sander, minute by minute. How you play it is you only worry about the next minute. You and I together. If you could pretend it was real, how is it different when it’s real?”

The gap between them closed in an aching kiss, teeth tugging on the edge of lips, fingers dancing over goosebumped shoulders. Robbe hoped Sander could taste the sincerity on his tongue. Each kiss bled into the next, peaceful, a request for more. Robbe was asking, again and again, and Sander was replying in the same vein. Yes, I want this with you. If you’ll take me, I want this with you.

“I’m going to mess up,” Sander whimpered, pulling away an inch.

“Okay,” said Robbe.

“What if you regret this in the future?”

“Okay.”

“Robbe, what if it was better off fake, what if—” He cut off as Robbe leaned in for yet another kiss. Melted into the sensation. The muffliato charm might be a nice investment.

“What you and I have,” Robbe whispered into Sander’s lips, “has always been real.”

Tomorrow, Jens and Moyo would call to see how the night went. They gave Sander directions to the house in accordance with article XII, section VIII of Operation Sobbe. Robbe, Sander, and his mother would make blood sausage and cry laughing when Sander took the first bite. Robbe would return to Hogwarts after break with Sander’s hand clasped in his own. But tonight, if Robbe could do wordless magic, the world would freeze in this moment forever.

And afterward, the view from his bedroom window beat that of the astronomy tower, because it reflected their faces back.

[miss-tc-nova]

Tonight - Eraqus x Reader

SCREW IT! I’M DONE! HAVE IT! I’ve been working on this for too long and it’s starting to eat at me. It’s not perfect, but it’s time to move on!

NO BETA WE DIE LIKE THE SCALA UPPERCLASSMEN! 

Music inpsiration: Let’s Get Out of This Town - Carrie Underwood

~~~~~

              Leaves rustle above, dappling the ground in a perfect mix of cool shade and warm sun. My pen scraws across the book I’m holding up in a rather awkward manner. The reason for such awkward writings shifts again, turning the page of a book I told him to put away at least ten times now.

              “Eraqus, would you please focus.”

              Splayed across my lap, the young man responds, “I am focused.”

              “Then what did I just say?”

              “Uh…That the founding of Scala Ad Caelum was the start of a new era for keyblade wielders.” I stare at him, a mix of annoyance and disappointment painted across my face. “What?”

              “That was the first thing I said TWO HOURS AGO!” I drop the notebook on his face. “Era, the Founding Festival is in three days and you haven’t even written one word of your speech! Your mom is going to be so pissed if you mess this up!”

              The notebook gets pushed aside as he rubs his nose. “I forgot about it, okay. Besides, if she’s so afraid of me ruining the family name, she shouldn’t have put this on me.”

              It’s in these truths that I can’t fault him. His parents are trying to exhibit Eraqus as the perfect heir to blue-blooded family—except, everyone knows Eraqus doesn’t couldn’t care less about his heritage.

              My fingers slide through his soft, wavy hair. “I know you hate it, and I agree that it’s not really fair, but being Tardy Fleetfoot isn’t gonna get you out of this one, sweetheart.”

              His eyes open, staring off into the distant sky; I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

              “What if it could?”

              “Huh?”

              Finally, Eraqus sits up. “What if…we ran away?”

              “Seriously? I know it sucks, but you wanna run away because your mom asked you to make a speech on behalf of your family?”

              “Yes! I mean, no. I just…” Shoulders slump, his eyes cast down. Suddenly, the ever-present light he radiates dims. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and…I think we could be happier outside of Scala.”

              I feel a knot in my stomach. “When you say ‘we’…”

              “I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but travelling across the all the worlds would be a lot more fun if you were there with me.”

              Eraqus could easily be the heir his parents keep nagging him to be if he would just take their requests more seriously, but I know he has his reasons for rebelling. As for me, I’ve been struggling with a lot of things ever since I met a man in a black coat. I began questioning our purpose and history, which has admittedly affected some of my work. There’s no reward, no guarantees—no certainty that what we’re doing will mean anything; what he showed me has shaken my resolve in this career. Doing something so selfish for once has an incredible allure.

              My voice in careful contemplation, I ask, “Do you really think we’d be fine out there on our own?”

              That adorable grin that scrunches his nose returns. “With you looking after me, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Of course he could bring a smile to my face so easily. “Just you and me, travelling the worlds, no responsibilities, doing whatever we want, being together! It’ll be perfect!”

              He takes my hands and I can feel the excitement tingling in his fingers like an infection. Still, I can’t quite lose myself to irrationality the same way he can.

              “What about your family?”

              He sighs, his gaze dropping. “All I have left are my parents and I’m not sure they even see me as their son anymore—just someone to follow the family tradition. And honestly, I don’t care. So I’ve got nothing holding me back.” His gaze turns on me. “Do you?”

              My mind frantically sifts through excuses and obligations. Even in my shattered determination, I’d always convinced myself that the path of the keyblade wielder was the right thing to do and that this was my place in this existence. But right now, my heart washes out those thoughts more and more with each beat.

              “No.”

              I’ve never, in all my years of knowing him, seen Eraqus smile so brightly. And suddenly, my entire future feels like an abyss of the unknown, but it’s bright.

              “Then let’s go.”

              “Now?!”

              He scrambles to his feet, arms thrown out. “Why not?!”

              My brain rattles, trying to get a grip on the suddenness of it all. “Wh-But…What about the others?”

              For the first time, his confidence falters. “I’m not sure they would understand. They’ve wanted to be masters for as long as I can remember.”

              “And Xehanort?”

              His voice lowers to something more sober. “This is the life he’s dreamed of. Gods, he would probably be angry that I want to give this up.” His drooping shoulders square up and he turns to me, determination in his eyes. “We can’t say anything to them.”

              “Are you sure?”

              Hesitation flickers briefly. “Yes. Not a word. Okay?”

              I nod. “Okay.”

              “Good.” Eraqus throws his arms around me, squeezing so tight he lifts me off the ground for a moment and the uncertainty of my life feels long gone by now.

              We agree on a plan—opting to sneak out after curfew—and even talk about some of the things we’ll bring with us, but the conversation quickly dissolves into Eraqus telling me about all the adventures he wants us to have. I hang on every word, the nerves still fluttering in my chest but having the utmost faith in him. Before long, I can’t help thinking that curfew can’t come soon enough.

              Checking up and down the halls, I sneak my way from the kitchen with a bag in hand. I hadn’t managed to snitch much since it had all been locked away for the night, but anything would work until we get out of here. Realistically, food is the most important thing we need to worry about, but Eraqus promised me he would grab the other things on the list we made. I just hope it’s going as smoothly for him as it is for me.

              A finger jams into my cheek. “What’s got you all smiley?”

              Correction: I hope it’s going smoother for him than it is for me.

              In spite of the flush boiling into my cheeks, I attempt to give the offending red-head my best glare. “Am I not allowed to smile just because I’m happy?”

              His brow arches. “It’s more the reason why you’re happy that’s suspicious.” Those amber orbs eye up my bag. “And what’s in the bag?”

              The heat is climbing into my ears as I hold the bag tighter against me. “It’s none of your business Bragi; can’t I just be happy to be happy?”

              “Me thinks thou doth protest too much,” he hums before leaning in. “What are you hiding?”

              Hand against his chest, I push the young man back a step. My heart is racing in my chest while I struggle to remain calm. “What does it matter to you?”

              His shoulders bounce. “I get curious when people start acting weird.” Once again, those eyes narrow, gleaming with serious intent. “So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to pry it out of you?”

              I force an eye roll, pushing past his so-called ultimatum. “If you don’t quit pestering me, I’ll tell Urd it was you who ruined the ice sculpture she made for the magic project last week.”

              That puts a damper on his investigation. “You wouldn’t.”

              “Oh I would.” I poke at his shirt. “You let poor Baldr take the blame but I watched you botch the aero spell that knocked it over.”

              “You have no proof.”

              “I have proof that Baldr was helping Eraqus with homework and the others were working on their projects together on the training ground. You’re the only one without an alibi and your project was the only other one in the class, yet you were overlooked because everyone thought your wonky, incomplete project was broken too.” Finally with some confidence, I smile. “Besides, who’s Urd more likely to believe? Me? Or Smarmy Fluffcoat?”

              Bragi scowls. “Fine. But I’m on to you. I will figure out what you’re up to.”

              “Run along, Fluffcoat,” I say, shooing him away from me.

              As he walks away, I feel a tug in my heart. Bragi, Urd, Vor, Baldr, Hermod, and Xehanort are my classmates—no, more like family. We spent years together, working together, taking care of each other, laughing together. They were the only reason I never chickened out of becoming a keyblade wielder. Of course, I’m giving up that path now for different reasons, but I didn’t think I would miss anything about this life—I was wrong.

              I have to remind myself that I have preparations to make or I risk giving myself reasons to reconsider.

              Stowed away in my room, I collect the things I’ll be taking with me. Hard choices are made for I can’t reasonably take everything. Mementos, niceties, and even gifts from the people I’m closest to must be left behind. I’m not going to lie, I cried a little.

              With some time to kill before curfew, I jot down the things I can’t say in person. I can’t tell my friends where we’re going—not that I even know where we’re going—but I do everything I can to express how much I love them and that I’m going to miss them. For the life of me, I want them to understand our choices and not to worry about us. Even as I tuck the letter away in the photo album on my desk, I find myself praying they’ll be okay.

              A soft knock comes from the door. Creeping closer, I crack it open to find my boyfriend.

              “Are you ready to go?” he whispers.

              Reaching back, I grab my bag, sparing my room of several years one last glance. “Yeah.”

              As I scurry after Eraqus, I give him a cheeky smirk. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet.”

              The young man stops in his tracks, turns on me, and jerks me into a hasty kiss. With his eyes sparking with excitement, he says, “Cold feet? Me? Never.”

              His surprise attack has my stomach writhing, forcing him to take the initiative, taking my hand and leading the way. We creep through the silent halls, holding our breaths as we check around every corner. Years spent in this citadel has taught us the patrol route of the staff watching out for kids like us, so we find little trouble on our way to one of the lesser used exits of the student dorms.

              Both of us heave a sigh of relief once the cool night air washes across our skin. There are still patrols scattered about the school grounds but—without restrictive, empty, hallways—they’re easier to avoid.

              We’re so close; once we make it to the back corner of the school grounds, we can hop the fence and we’ll be long gone by the time anyone realizes we’re missing.

              Eraqus glances off to the left, pulling us around the corner towards the right. Immediately, he skids to a halt and I slam into his back. My question dies on my tongue as I peer around him to find the reason for our delay. My heart freezes as we come face to face with all six of our friends, headed by a scowling Xehanort.

              “What are you troublemakers up to?” Urd hisses, looking just as angry as Xehanort.

              “Eheh, what are you guys doin’ out past curfew?” Eraqus asks with a nervous laugh.

              Hermod folds his arms. “We could ask you the same thing.”

              “Uh…” Era’s grip on my hand tightens nervously. “We were just out for a walk. Fresh air under the moonlight’s super romantic, you know.”

              Baldr points out the obvious flaw. “Then what’s with the bags?”

              Stone eyes glance to me for an excuse, but I have none. “Homework?”

              I feel our dreams shriveling in my heart. Xehanort squares up, stepping in to nearly bump chests with Eraqus, his silver eyes practically glowing with his displeasure.

              “Fight me.”

              No one was expecting his challenge. However, without backing down, Eraqus questions him.

              “What?”

              “Fight me,” Xe repeats. “If you win, you can go.”

              Cautiously, Eraqus asks, “And if I lose?”

              “You tell us what’s going on.”

              I reach out to rest a hand on Eraqus’s arm. “Maybe we should-”

              I don’t know if it’s the competitive streak he has going on with Xehanort or a reckless thought that convinced him he has a higher win rate than one out of three, but Eraqus ignores my second guessing.

              “You’re on.”

              Without another word, Xehanort turns and begins leading the way towards the training grounds. The leader glares straight ahead with his opponent right behind him, but the others are free to throw me a mix of glares and questioning glances.

              The competitors take the field while the rest of us wait at the sidelines. I assume in order to keep the secrecy we’d tried to escape in, the two speak in hushed voices I can’t hear. Meanwhile, pressure continues building as the others surround me like I’m some sort of inmate needing guarding—perhaps I am in this situation.

              Finally, Urd breaks the silence. “You know Eraqus is going to lose.” My lips purse, reluctant to respond. That’s not what she wanted. “Seriously?! There’s no point hiding it; just tell us what you guys were doing!”

              I simply hold my silence, but Vor at least seems to have some mercy. “Shh, you’ll attract attention. There’s no use trying to pry out secrets, especially if Eraqus really is going to lose.”

              An arm bumps against me and I peer up at Hermod. His expression seems like a mix of pain and anger; all I’m really sure is that he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue and returns his gaze to the fight.

              The boys clash in silence, only the clang of metal ringing out when keyblades occasionally collide. Eraqus is renowned as a slacker and a clown among the class; nevertheless, he’s got power and skill. And this is the first time I’ve ever seen him take on his best friend without a cheeky grin. For the sake of our ambitions, he’s serious.

              That’s not to say Xehanort doesn’t have a chance—he does have win rate to back him up after all. Right from the beginning, he had us all on the run with his raw talent. So while I haven’t lost all hope in Eraqus, I’m not exactly an optimist either.

              And then comes the slip up.

              Eraqus lunges, but when Xehanort side steps the attack, his wrist turns and he pulls back, hooking his opponent’s foot and pulling him to the ground. And then, when Eraqus goes in for the finishing move, Xehanort shoves his keyblade forward—right where Eraqus’s foot lands. The boy in black stands, pulling his weapon with him and unbalancing Eraqus enough that Xehanort easily topples the enemy and claims checkmate.

              Standing above his opponent, keyblade to Eraqus’s chin, Xehanort heaves. Eraqus, equally exhausted, glowers in his defeat. I can feel the weight of failure sinking in my chest.

              “Out with it,” the victor says. The line of Era’s jaw tightens. Unfazed, Xehanort jabs at his chest. “You agreed to the terms, now talk. And no lies.”

              His chin drops, ebony hair hiding his frustration. “We’re running away.”

              For a moment, Xehanort scrutinizes him. I can feel the others staring between me and Era until, finally, Xehanort’s aim lowers as he lets out a huff.

              “I figured that’s what was going on.”

              Just like Eraqus, my eyes snap back to Xehanort. “Huh?”

              Xehanort, for the first time tonight, smiles as he pulls Era from the dirt. “Did you really think you could hide it from me? You can’t act to save your life.”

              “Uh…”

              “I just wanted you to tell me yourself instead of leaving some stupid note.”

              From his jacket, Bragi produces the note I had left behind. Eraqus shoots me a confused glance. “Must’ve just missed ya sneakin’ out when we stopped by to check on you.”

              The silver-haired man picks up the dropped bag and pushes it against his best friend. “You two better get going. You have a lot of ground to cover and Eraqus’s parents will have all the worlds looking for you.”

              The words slip from my mouth, “You’re…letting us go?”

              Bragi snorts. “S’no secret you two aren’t happy here. Kinda sucks but you gotta do what’s best for you.”

              “Do you guys have enough supplies?” Hermod asks.

              “You better make sure to stay stocked up on food and water,” warns Vor, pulling a bag from her haori to give to me.

              “And be careful not to get sick,” adds Baldr, placing a folded blanket on top of Vor’s gift.

              “Also, you left your map in the library, you dingus,” accuses Xehanort. From his pocket, he pulls the map Eraqus promised me he would get. The ‘dingus’ gives a sheepish smile.

              “Speaking of which, where do you guys plan on going first?” asks Vor.

              Xehanort holds a hand up. “Don’t answer that. The less we know, the better. Just…send us a card from all the worlds you visit, ‘kay?”

              Tears well in my eyes when he pulls the two of us into an embrace. The others pile on, sharing the last group hug we’ll have for a long time. It breaks my heart, but at the same time, we have their blessing and nothing could make me happier.

              Breaking apart, Urd takes my face, wiping away the tears she won’t succeed in erasing. To be fair, there’s not a dry eye among us.

              “Take care of yourselves,” she says through sniffles.

              “I love you guys,” I murmur.

              Eraqus takes my hand, wearing soft smile. I can’t force myself to move and it takes him pulling me away for me to finally turn away from them.

              Once we jump the stone wall, we leave behind our responsibilities, our old lives, and our family—at least our real family understands.

              As we race through the empty streets, my tears start to dry. I’m still sad and I’ll miss them, but I have a bright future ahead of me—besides, it’s not like we said goodbye. No, right now, I’m focused on Eraqus and all the adventures we’re going to have. He’s the light pulling me through the darkness and I wouldn’t have been able to break free without him.

              Coming up on the docks, we slow to a stop, looking over the water the reflects the shining night sky.

              “So, where to first?” Eraqus asks, waving to all the endless possibilities.

              Giggling a bit, I point to the brightest star I see first. “That one.”

              “Alright. That one, here we come.”

              Before I can summon my keyblade, Eraqus pulls me into another surprise kiss. His excitement is palpable, seeping in and instigating my own. When he breaks it, he keeps me close, eyes shimmering like the sky above.

              “I promise you won’t regret this,” he says.

              “Regret? Me? Never.”

              He sticks his tongue out at me for mocking him and we summon the armor that will protect us in the Lanes Between. Without any more delays, we leave Scala Ad Caelum.

              And we’ve never been happier.

[samsexualdeancurious]

Release | Chapter Three (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Dean

Words: 2,190

Summary: When Sam's hit with an incomplete curse, Dean is more than happy to lend a hand in breaking it.

Warnings: WINCEST, genital swap (not a gender swap since Sam still identifies as a man), oral sex, vaginal fingering and sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), this is legit like 95% smut and I have zero regrets. This chapter includes none of the previous mentions but it does include bottom!Dean, anal sex, and some angst that I hadn't planned when I started this series but here we are.

Betaed by me

---

Dean wakes to his brother slipping from bed, silent as can be but not quite silent enough to fool years of hunter instincts. He blinks in the dim light of the lamp Sam’s switched on and twists to squint at his brother.

“Where’re you going?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes to ease the sting of the light.

Sam has his back to Dean and is pulling his workout clothes from the dresser. “For a run.”

“Everything okay?”

When Sam turns a little to the side, bending to slide his boxers up his legs, Dean catches a glimpse of the soft curve of his morning wood against his thigh. “Yeah, all normal.”

Dean rolls over fully to run an appreciative look over his brother. Sam’s grown more slender in recent years, focusing more on feeling good with his workouts than any specific goals like bulking up the way he did during the four months Dean was in Hell. Instead, Sam is all lean, powerful muscles and long limbs, and the sight of him stirs Dean’s cock into awareness.

“I could think of a better morning workout to do,” Dean says with a smirk, propping himself up on one elbow.

Sam glances at him once and then turns away again, shaking out his pants. “Not today.”

As soon as the drawstring is cinched around his waist, Sam’s out the door, pulling his t-shirt on as he goes. Dean frowns and throws the blankets off to follow him, pausing in the doorway when he remembers his own nudity. He’s not sure if Rowena’s still hanging around or not. She’s probably buried herself in her bedroom or a storeroom to do whatever the hell she’s up to but he’d rather not risk her seeing his junk.

“Any specific breakfast requests?” he calls after his brother but Sam just gives a halfhearted wave and disappears around the corner.

Still frowning, Dean snags his own clothes from the dresser, throws on his boxers from last night, and heads for the bathroom. Sam will probably be gone an hour or so, which gives Dean plenty of time to shower and get a good breakfast going. There are still fresh peppers in the fridge, as well as eggs. Sam does love an egg white omelet, especially after a run. Maybe a smoothie, too? Yeah, that’s a good idea. Butter Sam up a little with his favorite foods and then maybe he’ll tell Dean what’s going on in that big head of his because clearly something is up.

Dean showers quickly, ignoring any lingering morning arousal as he tries to work out what could possibly be bothering Sam. Everything had seemed fine when Dean fell asleep last night. Sam must have stayed up too late thinking about something but what that something is, Dean doesn’t have the faintest idea.

By the time Sam finally returns, making his way into the kitchen to refill his water bottle before his shower, Dean’s well into cooking their breakfasts and has just poured the mixture for his own omelet into the hot pan.

“Shower quick,” he tells Sam, greedily taking in the heaving of his chest as he catches his breath and the way his sweat-dampened hair curls and sticks to his skin. The imagery reminds him of last night, Sam stretched out on their bed with Dean above him, and Dean’s cock stirs at the memory. He’s going to be jerking off to that one for a long time to come. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sam replies without looking at him and there’s nothing that can kill Dean’s boner faster than an angsty little brother who’s clearly too wrapped up in his thoughts about something.

“You just ran how many miles? Five? And I know you haven’t eaten since before we got home last night, so don’t give me that.” Dean reaches out to grab the sleeve of Sam’s shirt and pull him closer. “Are you feeling nauseous? You’re not coming down with something, right?” Sam gives a little shrug. “Well, you should try and eat just a little bit. You don’t need to eat it all but try a few bites?”

“Okay,” Sam answers softly and Dean leans in to kiss his cheek. Sam hasn’t shaved yet and his stubble is rough against Dean’s lips but he doesn’t mind.

“Go get cleaned up. You reek.”

Sam rolls his eyes, lips curving in a small smile, and heads off down the hallway again. Dean returns his attention to his omelet, once again frowning as he mulls over that interaction. Getting Sam to talk might be harder than he expected.

Dean’s just transferring Sam’s omelet from pan to plate when his brother returns, fresh from the shower and dressed in his usual jeans-flannel combo. Today is that soft red and black one that clings to his chest and shoulders just so. His hair is still damp, soft curls falling against the back of his neck and around his ears. Dean wants to run his fingers through them but suppresses that urge, choosing instead to sit across the table from Sam with his food. The omelet only gets a few bites but the smoothie is a hit, thankfully. At least Sam’s getting some calories today if he’s not planning to eat solid food. The not-eating thing is a huge red flag, though.

“Okay,” Dean says as he finishes his own omelet and pushes his plate aside. “Tell me what’s going on in that big beautiful brain.”

Sam shakes his head, poking at a bit of pepper with his fork. His body is tensed and Dean knows if he’s not careful, Sam’s going to bolt. Sam may be the more “talk about our feelings” one of the brothers but he still has his moments. This is shaping up to be one of them but Dean needs it to not be. Letting Sam stew in his thoughts too long is never a good idea. He ties himself up in anxiety knots that they’ll both spend weeks, months, sometimes even years untangling.

“Don’t run away from this,” Dean says softly, reaching across the table to take the fork from Sam’s hand. He hooks one foot around Sam’s ankle under the table, a small defense to keep Sam from running. It won’t do much to actually hold him but, hopefully, it indicates to Sam that Dean genuinely wants to talk about this. “And eat your food. Do I have to pull out the airplane move?” He gets a bite of omelet on the work and holds it up in front of Sam’s mouth. “It worked when you were little.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sam protests, all pouty little brother. “And I’m not running.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean nudges the fork against Sam’s lips. “Sam.”

“Dean.”

“Sa-am.”

Sam huffs and accepts the bite of omelet, chewing slowly before speaking again. “I just - I don’t know. I guess I’m having some doubts.”

Dean frowns, cutting the omelet with the side of the fork and loading up another bite. “Doubts? About us?” His stomach twists at the thought but Sam shakes his head and lets Dean feed him this second piece of omelet.

“No, not about…” Sam hesitates and then blurts out, “Do you miss sleeping with women?”

“Women? No. Why?”

Sam shrugs. “Something about last night… how much you enjoyed yourself. I guess it got me thinking. It’s been so long since either of us slept with women and I know that’s not a big deal for me since I’ve never been very… you know. But you’ve always…” He trails off and Dean’s heart breaks a little at the expression on his face. Like he’s just waiting for Dean to kick him while he’s down.

“Sam.” Dean nudges Sam’s shin with his toes under the table. “For someone so smart, you can be pretty fucking dumb. Last night was hot as hell but I didn’t think you were hot because you had a vagina or because you were a man with a vagina. I thought it was hot because you’re you and I love you no matter what’s between your legs.”

Sam’s cheeks are an adorable shade of pink. “Really?”

“What did I do to prompt that thought besides really enjoy fucking you?” Dean asks and Sam chews his lip, shrugging. Yeah, that answers that question. Overthinking is a cruel spiral to get trapped in. He wants to lighten the mood a bit, though, and maybe move this past the talking stage. Dean’s always been more about actions than words. “Did you miss me eyeing up your cock this morning?”

Sam rolls his eyes but that sass melts away when Dean lifts his foot to rub his toes along Sam’s inner thigh, sending a shiver through the younger man.

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, watching Sam’s eyelids flutter as he presses the ball of his foot against the bulge in Sam’s jeans. “I want this in me. Can I?”

Sam nods, breathing out a “yes”, and Dean grins.

--

They make it to the bedroom somehow, stumbling through the door and falling onto the bed together. They barely remember to lock the door behind them. Dean fumbles with the buttons of Sam’s shirt only to find a v-neck underneath.

“So many layers,” he complains as he pushes the flannel from Sam’s shoulders and yanks the t-shirt up and off.

“You’re one to talk,” Sam laughs, shaking his hair out of his face and getting to work on Dean’s shirts while Dean’s fingers find Sam’s belt.

“Yeah, yeah, just get naked.”

They do accomplish that. Their clothes are scattered all over the room but Dean can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s pushing Sam onto his back and crawling up to straddle Sam’s hips as he reaches for the lube in his bedside table drawer. Their erections rub against each other with the movement, drawing twin sounds of pleasure from both men.

“Gonna ride you,” Dean promises, pouring lube on his fingers and reaching back to start working himself open. He groans, a sound echoed by Sam. “I love the way you fill me up.”

“So fucking hot,” Sam says, reaching up with one hand to hook his fingers around the back of Dean’s neck. “Where’s the lube?”

The bottle has rolled to rest against Dean’s calf. He scoops it up and passes it to Sam, who doesn’t hesitate to slick up his own fingers.

“Let me?” Sam asks, his lubed hand slipping between Dean’s thighs to brush against where Dean’s rim is stretched around two of his fingers.

Dean is more than happy to let Sam take over. He wipes his hand on the sheet again - they’re definitely going to have to change them later - and leans back to brace himself against Sam’s thighs. Sam’s fingers are long and thick, stretching Dean open in all the best ways. Dean’s head falls back and he hears Sam make an appreciative sound at the sight.

“Gorgeous,” Sam growls, twisting his fingers just so to pull a moan from Dean even as his cheeks burn.

“I’m not-” Dean starts to protest but Sam silences him with a shake of his head. His hand has drifted down to rest on Dean’s belly, just above his cock.

“I will win this argument.” Sam’s hand slips lower to curl loosely around the base of Dean’s cock. “If I’m ‘fucking stunning’, then you’re gorgeous. I don’t make the rules.”

Before Dean can respond, the introduction of a third finger drives all semblance of coherent thought from his head and all he can manage is a low, broken sound that might be Sam’s name. Even Dean himself isn’t entirely sure.

“Think you’re ready?” Sam asks with a knowing smirk.

It’s going to burn a bit, Dean knows, but part of him craves that. The knowledge that Sam’s cock is just that big. Dean’s no shrimp himself but his little brother is proportionate and Dean loves it.

He may be a bit of a size queen.

“Give it to me,” he answers, voice breathier than he’ll ever admit as Sam pulls his fingers free.

Sam slicks up his cock blindly, eyes never leaving Dean’s face, and then guides Dean back to finally get what he’s been craving. Dean moans openly as he’s split wide on the fat head, the slight burn making his cock throb. It always feels like it takes an eternity to sink all the way to the base but he gets there. His ass presses tight against Sam’s bony hips and he’s filled to the brim, deeper than any other man has ever gone, in more ways than one.

“You take me so well.” Sam’s hands stroke up and down Dean’s thighs, soothing the tremble of his muscles before one palm strikes Dean’s ass with a sharp crack that makes Dean clench and moan. “You promised you would ride me. Go on.”

Dean draws a deep breath, nodding, and his hands flail a second before finding their grip on Sam’s forearms. With Sam to brace against, Dean gets to work fulfilling that promise and reminding his brother exactly how much Dean loves him just the way he is.

—

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