Enjoy the over-protective boy. Also, you can see some more of his past now :D

Leroy

How does your character feel about their own physical appearance?

He doesn't care. He tries to stay fit, but other than that, he doesn't pay attention to it.

How is your character react in social situations where they're forced to be around strangers? What about friends?

He just kinda avoids people if he can, he'll occasionally talk... if he has to.

With friends, he typically just acts overprotective and sarcastic.

Are they good at expressing their emotions or more stoic?

Depends on the emotion.

When was the last time they cried?

With Nabih, but before that not since his brother died

Where do they fall on the scale of introversion and extroversion?

Right in the middle

What is their outlook on life like?

It's pretty much just a disappointment altogether.

Do they have a life philosophy?

"By losing someone you care about, you lose a part of yourself. Protect them with all you have, and, in turn, you will protect yourself."

What is their alignment (ie. Good, true neutral, chaotic evil)?

Chaotic good

Do they have certain words or phrases they use frequently? (ie. "Hmmm. Fuck.")

Not really, he does cuss a lot though

How do they handle stress?

Anger.

Where do they like to go to unwind?

Somewhere alone, preferably somewhere with a punching bag

How adaptable are they to new situations?

Depends on the situation. He usually likes to map everything out and figure out the best options.

When was the last time they told a lie? Do they have a bad opinion of liars?

Recently. Yes, he doesn't like liars generally, but he can understand some lies.

Do they make promises? Have they ever broken a promise?

Yes, he makes promises, and not so far.

What annoying or bad habits do they have?

He kinda automatically lashes out at people when they're just trying to discuss something Leroy dislikes, or sometimes just when he's tired or nervous.

Are they prejudiced towards certain groups of people?

Haha, yep. Mainly people he sees as self-obsessed. Also Val. Very much Val.

What's their sense of humor like?

It differs, but usually, it includes lightly nudging someone over a joke or something.

What makes them sad? *cue the sad puppy commercials*

Seeing people he cares about hurt

What gets on their nerves?

Disrespect of any sort, especially towards those he cares about

What things do they like or obsess over?

Protecting people

Nabih?

What's the thing (physical or abstract) they want more than anything else?

Abstract: Probably safety. Mainly for those he cares about

Physical: Uh... Nabih?

When was their first kiss?

Hasn't happened (Nabih?)

How did their first relationship end?

He hasn't had a relationship yet

Have they ever been in love?

NaBiH?

Have they ever had their heart broken?

Sure, though not from romance.

How do they flirt?

Badly. Dropping bad hints, a compliment or two, giving gifts-

How do they display affection differently to their friends, families, and romantic interests?

PrOtEcT

Do they get jealous?

Absolutely. Very. Easy.

He's not possessive, but he'll probably get a little grumpy and passive if someone he likes is talking to someone else in a way he perceives as flirtatious or romantic

How do they react to rejection?

He doesn't want to hurt whoever it is, so he probably just leaves as soon as possible so he can beat up a poor punching bag.

How do they react if someone they aren't particularly interested in expresses interest in them?

????

What the fuck do I do? This is not okay.

How confident are they (with relationships or otherwise?)

He acts very confidently, but he's actually very insecure.

Are they forgiving or do they hold grudges?

Grudges all the way. You do something to him once, you better believe he's gonna remember it.

Do they believe in redemption?

Sometimes. Very hesitantly.

What's their reputation like? Is it different in different circles? Do they like their reputation or would they like to be perceived differently?

To most, he seems like a scary, mean bully, but to those who know him, he's actually really kind and protective.

More bark than bite.

Do they like to think on their feet or plan ahead?

Plan ahead. Unless someone he cares about is in danger, he always has a plan.

Do they struggle with impulsiveness?

Yep. He's very impulsive, he'll often say things he later regrets on instinct, and he'll react in anger as a defense.

Do they have any nervous ticks?

Not really

What are their most positive and negative character traits? What about their most prominent character traits?

Positive: Protective

Negative: Also protective

Prominent: Loud?

Do they have any regrets in life? What do they feel most guilty about?

Yes, several. The one he feels most guilty about is his brothers' death.

What achievement are they most proud of?

He's got a lot of achievements, mostly academically, but he's not really proud of them. They always felt worthless, like he was forced into it in the first place, so what's the point if he doesn't care about what he's doing?

What is their first memory?

That's something he'd rather keep to himself-

Their fondest memory?

Anything involving all of his siblings. Except for his brothers' death.

Their worst memory?

His brothers' death.

What smells remind them of the past?

Alcohol, blood, smoke, strawberry soap, and old books.

What's the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

Probably his siblings being happy.

What are their greatest fears, both physical and abstract?

Physical: Losing those he loves

Abstract: Agoraphobia- Fear of losing control

What are their goals or ambitions?

Just keep everyone he loves safe, make sure they're happy and unharmed.

Do they have a fatal weakness?

His over-protectiveness, probably. He'd do absolutely anything for those he cares about.

How do they react to criticism, praise, or other judgments cast on them?

For praise, Leroy can act prideful and a little bitchy, but in reality, he's doubtful.

For both criticism and judgment, Leroy is sarcastic and annoyed, he also acts angry about it sometimes.

Are they competitive? How so?

Hahahahahaha, yes. Very much so.

He's competitive in literally everything, he feels like he has to be the best or he's not good enough. It's how he was raised.

Has anyone ever saved their life?

No. He saves other people, not vise versa. If it was, there would be a lot of guilt on his part.

What things are they very opinionated about?

Equality mainly.

Oh, and his favorite book characters. He will fight you about this.

How do they respond to threats and conflict?

Usually with anger

Are they trusting of strangers? What about friends?

Nope. He doesn't trust anyone he doesn't know.

As for friends? Sometimes. Hesitantly.

How do they defend themselves weapon-wise?

Hand-to-hand combat is his specialty, he's great in fistfights. However, he knows how to use a knife too.

Do they have any special skills or training?

No. Unless you count dodging beer bottles as training.

What causes, people, or ideas, would they put their lives on the line for?

Literally, anyone who he cares about or can't help themselves. Also equality.

How do they treat their hierarchical superiors/inferiors?

Ha! Superiors? No. Never.

If someone is stupid and cocky enough to think that they are above him, or someone else, Leroy won't hesitate to knock some sense into them.

As for inferiors, Leroy doesn't see anyone as inferior. He just helps those who can't or won't help themselves. If he can help them with confidence, he will. If he can't, they are going to be under his protection until they learn that they're worthy.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

His anger.

Leroy hates exploding, and he hates that his first instinct is to lash out. It reminds him of his father, and he fears he'll hurt someone on accident because of this.

Do they have family? If so, what is the nature of their relationship and how do they feel about their family members?

Yes, unfortunately. Let's just go down the list of living members, shall we?

His sisters: Leroy absolutely adores these two. He practically raised them and he's pledged to find them again one day and continue to protect them. He only regrets them getting taken away from him.

His mother: Leroy doesn't really know her, honestly. She hasn't been present most of his life, and, when she is, it's never a good interaction. She was almost always smoking, and it was obvious she hated him, calling him a failure and a mistake. He dislikes her, but also pities her in a way, he doesn't doubt that she was just a pretty girl who was dragged into a relationship with an unloving man. He also doesn't doubt that she truly believes he and his siblings shouldn't have been born. He'll never forgive her for her mistakes, but he doesn't fully blame her either.

His father: Ah. This bitch. The one that was constantly drunk. The abusive one that gave him a scar and blind eye. The one that pushed him to and past his limits, trying to make Leroy perfect despite sitting on his own ass all day doing nothing but drinking and gambling. The one who saw his eight-year-old son as a toy when he came home drunk and his wife was gone. The one Leroy tried so desperately to shield his siblings from and was probably the reason Roman had been so mentally unstable. Yep. That one. Leroy hates him with a passion. If he could kill him, he would.

How do they treat their friends?

He's very over-protective of them and always tries to make sure they're safe. He can be sarcastic and loud with them, but if he sees they need help he'll step down and try to help them in any way possible, even if emotions aren't his strong suit.

Do they have a nemesis? How have they made enemies in the past?

His parents?

Leroy doesn't make enemies. If someone's his enemy it's because they tried to hurt him or someone he cares about. Not the other way around.

What kind of people do they get along with naturally? What unlikely people do they count as allies?

Leroy pretty naturally gets along with people who may be considered the underdogs. The people who struggle to take care of themselves, or who can't. They tend to be drawn to him because he's a protective presence and he to them because they're someone he can protect.

Literally everyone in the group except Axel.

What was your character's background like? How have they developed personality-wise from childhood?

Bad. Leroy had to grow up at a very young age because of the pressure his father put on him as well as his siblings. He was raising three kids while also taking all advanced classes and dealing with physical and mental abuse from his father.

To put it simply, this caused Leroy to learn how to hide.

What is the worst thing they've done to someone they loved? What about an enemy?

Loved: Failed to protect them

Enemy: Uh... 'unlived' them? Well, almost. He didn't kill the guy, just put him in the hospital for a... long while. Don't mess with his sisters :)

What's their personal moral code?

Protect those who need it with everything you have. No matter what.

Were they ever bullied (or have they bullied others?)

No and no. As much as he may seem like a bully at times, he would never beat someone down or try to make them feel bad for who they are or what they do. No one deserves that.

If they could travel back in time, what event would they alter?

His brothers' death.

What would they ask a fortune-teller?

"Do I succeed in protecting my friends? Are they safe?"

What advice would they give their younger self?

"Save your brother. No matter what. He may seem okay, but he's not. Save him. Do anything you have to. Please save him."

What do they love to hate?

His parents and anyone who dares to even get close to those he cares about.

Where do they go when they’re angry?

He takes out his anger by shouting usually, and punching something if he can (don't worry, it's usually a punching bag)

What is their current occupation? And do they like their job?

Protecting the group. Or, that's what he believes.

What are some of their past jobs?

He practically raised his siblings, does that count?

Do they have a talent?

Yeah, sure. He has many. A few include fighting, planning, and building things (machines and such)

What is their educational background? Are they more intelligent than average?

He went to a private school for a while, but by the start of high school, he was attending public school. He's above-average intelligence, and, for the most part, that wasn't his choice.

What's their ideal life that they would be happy living?

Somewhere safe. With his brother, sister, and friends all safe and happy.

What possessions do they use daily?

The normal stuff?

What possessions do they value?

Old pictures and old letters. All from his siblings. He also keeps his knife close.

Do they believe in the afterlife?

Well... His brother did, and, though he honestly didn't before, he... he likes to think it's real. He likes to believe it's as beautiful as his brother wished.

What are their religious views?

He has none, he doesn't care to.

How would they like to die?

Any way that involved protecting those he cares about. If he's going to die, he's going to save someone he loves doing so.

What is their zodiac sign? Enneagram sign?

Zodiac: Sagittarius (December 1st)

Enneagram: Eight (Challenger/Leader)

What are their eating habits?

He eats very healthily most of the time. That's really all there is to say.

What's their living space like?

Uh... Big and typically spotless. Imperfection wasn't excepted in his childhood.

Do they like to party? *tunes lute*

He doesn't mind a party every once in a while, but he typically only goes if there are people he knows there (and he mainly goes to protect them-)

Ale or wine (or water)?

If he had to choose, he honestly likes wine. Typically, though he'll only drink when he's alone, and only in very small amounts.

Finally finished this! :D

Axel

How does your character feel about their own physical appearance?

He doesn't like it very much... He's been bullied about it in the past and words hurt.

How is your character react in social situations where they're forced to be around strangers? What about friends?

He keeps a low profile and doesn't talk unless he has to. He gets very nervous around strangers. With friends, Axel is still quiet, but more open. He likes to help out whenever he can and has a tendency to go along with whatever the others want.

Are they good at expressing their emotions or more stoic?

Stoic. No need to worry anyone else.

When was the last time they cried?

Probably today. Or, at least very recently.

Where do they fall on the scale of introversion and extroversion?

Introverted

What is their outlook on life like?

It's often disappointing, but sometimes it can be worth it. For the people who care about you.

Do they have a life philosophy?

"One person that loves you is worth a million that hate you, keep those that care close and forget the rest.”

What is their alignment (ie. Good, true neutral, chaotic evil)?

Neutral good (Yes, I changed this from my original form)

Do they have certain words or phrases they use frequently? (ie. "Hmmm. Fuck.")

*Confused puppy dog noises*

How do they handle stress?

He represses it and tries not to feel.

Where do they like to go to unwind?

Anywhere quiet, usually with a book.

How adaptable are they to new situations?

Axel has a lot of trouble adapting, he prefers to stay in one place where he feels safe consistently. He does better if there are people that care about him around.

When was the last time they told a lie? Do they have a bad opinion of liars?

Uhh, the last lie he told was probably that he was doing fine, and no, in Axel’s opinion, lying is okay if you have a good reason. He’s lied to protect someone before.

Do they make promises? Have they ever broken a promise?

Axel avoids promises if possible, but he hasn’t broken one yet.

What annoying or bad habits do they have?

Well, he mostly just gives in too quickly to others opinions, oh, and he tends to meld himself to those around him, changing for them. This means he doesn’t have a very strong sense of self.

Are they prejudiced towards certain groups of people?

No.

What's their sense of humor like?

Whatever others find funny, he just kind of goes along with everyone else.

What makes them sad? *cue the sad puppy commercials*

A lot. Most things, actually. Some of the main are past memories though.

What gets on their nerves?

People who think they’re better than everyone else and put others down for it.

What things do they like or obsess over?

Mostly just keeping others happy.

What's the thing (physical or abstract) they want more than anything else?

For abstract, Axel wants to be happy, and he wants others to be happy. For physical… not really anything for himself, but some money to help his parents out would be nice.

When was their first kiss?

It was in the hospital garden with Apollo who caught him by surprise.

How did their first relationship end?

It wasn’t an official relationship, but… Apollo died, so-

Have they ever been in love?

Kind of? It’s complicated

Have they ever had their heart broken?

Romantically, no. Otherwise, yes.

How do they flirt?

He doesn’t flirt, he gets flustered.

How do they display affection differently to their friends, families, and romantic interests?

Axel shows his affection through extreme respect and kind acts of service. He may also give some gifts out, he finds it fun to make little crafts and give them to those he cares about.

Do they get jealous?

Not really

How do they react to rejection?

In the most respectful way possible, he’s willing to back away or give up so that someone else can be happy.

How do they react if someone they aren't particularly interested in expresses interest in them?

Uh, awkward confusion and a very anxious, sincere apology.

How confident are they (with relationships or otherwise?)

Haha, you’re funny. The answer is no. Just no confidence. Ever.

Are they forgiving or do they hold grudges?

Very forgiving, everyone deserves a second chance.

Do they believe in redemption?

Yeah, sure, as long as it’s genuine.

What's their reputation like? Is it different in different circles? Do they like their reputation or would they like to be perceived differently?

He’s got a different reputation in different groups, though no one has ever seen him as mean. At the hospital, almost everyone knew him because he and Apollo often went around visiting and helping other patients and staff out, several of the younger kids still have little crafts that Axel made them, and a lot of them remember him playing games with them. The staff saw him as very shy but very helpful, always doing what he could to help out. At school, Axel’s reputation was more negative. A lot of people saw him as weak, shy, and vulnerable, those who didn’t bully or dislike him simply sympathized with him but stayed away. Some people were even scared of him because of his health issues, though a lot of the teachers liked him because he was respectful and helpful. Ethan was Axel’s first real friend, and he sees him as very kind and affectionate while also being shy.

Do they like to think on their feet or plan ahead?

Plan ahead. Axel doesn’t ever like going into things unprepared, he’s had too much go wrong that he wasn’t ready for.

Do they struggle with impulsiveness?

No. Axel’s probably the least impulsive person you’ll ever meet. He’s very in control of his actions.

Do they have any nervous ticks?

Axel’s very good at hiding all his emotions, so he doesn’t really have any visible ticks. He does start eating less when his anxiety is acting up though.

What are their most positive and negative character traits? What about their most prominent character traits?

Positive: Kindness

Negative: Anxiety/shyness

Prominent: Shyness, probably

Do they have any regrets in life? What do they feel most guilty about?

Yes, but the one he feels most guilty about is probably leaving his parents.

What achievement are they most proud of?

He’s not really proud of anything.

What is their first memory?

His mother singing to him as he tried to fall asleep.

Their fondest memory?

Probably making crafts in the garden with Apollo, talking without worrying about appearance or finances for once.

Their worst memory?

Apollo dying.

What smells remind them of the past?

The hospital smell, roses, his mothers perfume, and the smell of rain

What's the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

There was one night when Apollo (totally illegally-) snuck into Axel’s room after visiting hours at the hospital and convinced him to sneak out to the gardens with him (bad idea in general, like, they totally could have gotten locked out-). Axel was really nervous about it a first, but when they got there Apollo pointed out the constellations and they just talked until sunrise. Seeing Apollo’s face light up when he talked about stars and told Axel stories about mythology was probably the best and most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

What are their greatest fears, both physical and abstract?

Kinda same for both, just something happening to his friends and him not being able to help.

What are their goals or ambitions?

Honestly, he doesn’t really have many, he just goes with the flow most of the time. He would like to be some sort of doctor one day though, maybe.

Do they have a fatal weakness?

Uh, probably his unwillingness to stand up for himself.

How do they react to criticism, praise, or other judgments cast on them?

For praise, Axel accepts it with thanks but kind of doubts it, and with criticism, he’s happy to listen and do what he has to to make the others like him or make them feel better. For judgments, though, Axel becomes extremely submissive and quiet, he’ll listen and do whatever he’s asked and feel like shit about it silently.

Are they competitive? How so?

No, not at all, he’s happy to let others have control.

Has anyone ever saved their life?

Yes. Cal, actually, though Cal doesn’t know this.

What things are they very opinionated about?

LGBTQ+ rights, equality, and mental health, though he won’t raise his voice about anything unless he has to or he’s in a safe environment.

How do they respond to threats and conflict?

Axel becomes extremely submissive and backs down, he hates conflict and does everything to avoid it, including completely zoning out or physically getting away from it. He hates conflict that isn’t even his own. The only time he’ll step into a situation is if he feels like he can calm it down and/or he trusts the people that are involved not to hurt him.

Are they trusting of strangers? What about friends?

Of strangers, no. Of friends, sometimes. They have to earn that trust first.

How do they defend themselves weapon-wise?

…Weapon… wise? No thanks, let’s use words!

If he absolutely has to though, Axel knows how to create poison, he’s very knowledgeable with medicine and medical supplies as well as poisonous things and unsafe medical procedures.

Do they have any special skills or training?

Same thing as above, he’s very knowledgeable with medicine and medical supplies as well as poisonous things and unsafe medical procedures. Oh, also, he knows how to cover everything up. Let’s just say, Axel’s not a violent person, but if you somehow manage to piss the bean off, you could very easily end up dead without anyone suspecting a thing.

What causes, people, or ideas, would they put their lives on the line for?

Anyone he cares about, and anyone who’s in a medical emergency.

How do they treat their hierarchical superiors/inferiors?

He practically bows to superiors, he’s terrified of them unless they’re someone like Leroy or anyone else in the ANGSTVENGERS. In Axel’s eyes, he’s the absolute bottom of the social pyramid, lower than a peasant, maybe equal to an untouchable. (I like history, okay-)

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

His anxiety.

Do they have family? If so, what is the nature of their relationship and how do they feel about their family members?

Yes. Axel adores both of his parents, especially his mother. They both work full time jobs and always did everything they could to support Axel medically and emotionally. He didn’t see his father a lot because he worked at night, and his mother wasn’t always around either, but he’ll always love the few memories he has of family dinners. Not only that, but his parents were also supportive of his sexuality and gender. All in all, great parents and great people. Axel loves them and regrets leaving them behind.

How do they treat their friends?

With respect and trust, he can be clingy sometimes and also kind of childish, but that’s just how he shows affection.

Do they have a nemesis? How have they made enemies in the past?

No, and the only ‘enemies’ he’s had are his bullies. Even then he didn’t really even dislike them, just felt bad about himself and a little worried for them. If they were being cruel it was probably because they didn’t know any better, right?

What kind of people do they get along with naturally? What unlikely people do they count as allies?

Axel gets along with literally everyone that doesn’t hurt him. He’s quiet, kind, and helpful. He never seeks out conflict and is always willing to listen, so literally all of his allies could be expected.

What was your character's background like? How have they developed personality-wise from childhood?

Home life for Axel was good, it was emotionally stable, but financially things were kind of falling apart. A lot of Axel’s childhood was spent in and out of the hospital, but really, seeing his parents be so kind despite their situation made Axel want to do the same.

What is the worst thing they've done to someone they loved? What about an enemy?

Loved: Left them.

Enemy: Uh, nothing? Again, he never really had enemies.

What's their personal moral code?

Be kind and always follow the golden rule.

Were they ever bullied (or have they bullied others?)

Yes, he was bullied a lot. It was bad, really bad.

If they could travel back in time, what event would they alter?

Apollo dying?

What would they ask a fortune-teller?

“How are my friends and family in the future? I worry about them, they deserve so much more.”

What advice would they give their younger self?

“Let things play out as they do, but don’t give up. Things may turn out a little differently than you expect, I mean, some of the best things that are going to happen to you come out of some of the worst situations and ideas. Just keep going and help out where you can. It’s worth it in the end.”

What do they love to hate?

Nothing really

Where do they go when they’re angry?

Anywhere quiet and away from people

What is their current occupation? And do they like their job?

He doesn’t have a job

What are some of their past jobs?

He’s never had a paid job, but he helped in the hospital a lot, and the school library.

Do they have a talent?

Anything regarding medicine.

What is their educational background? Are they more intelligent than average?

He’s about average intelligence, and he’s been in and out of school a lot because of medical issues.

What's their ideal life that they would be happy living?

Any life that lets the people he loves be happy.

What possessions do they use daily?

The usual stuff and also his stuffed bear.

What possessions do they value?

His stuffed bear

Do they believe in the afterlife?

Kind of? He’s not sure what to believe

What are their religious views?

His parents were Catholic, but Axel’s not sure what he thinks, he’s leaning towards atheism.

How would they like to die?

Any way that’s peaceful, he knows a few tricks with medication if ever needed.

What is their zodiac sign? Enneagram sign?

Zodiac: Cancer (July 7th)

Enneagram: Nine (Peacemaker/Mediator)

What are their eating habits?

He’s got a bad habit of not really eating. Not because he doesn’t like food or even feels bad about himself, but because he’s just not used to having much.

What's their living space like?

Small but generally organized.

Do they like to party? *tunes lute*

He prefers not to unless he’s going with people he trusts to protect him

Ale or wine (or water)?

Water all the way. He doesn’t like alcohol, though he doesn’t care if other people drink around him as long as they’re responsible.

!Warning! This post contains underage drinking, smoking, vomit, rape, being roofied, and more. Proceed at your own risk.

Cal’s whole body felt numb with a faint and distant sting of pain across his body. Hammer-like headaches pounded relentlessly into his skull as if they were attempting to tear down a concrete wall. While his stomach churned an awful brew of pain, his throat burned and he felt like he was on the verge of vomiting.

What the hell happened last night?

The blaring music and burning lights of the party still stained his memory like a red splotch on a white shirt. Glancing to the clock, Cal rolled from his side onto his back with a soft groan at the realization that it was well past noon. Running a hand through his hair, he still smelled of booze. His clothes smelled of booze. Funny thing is Cal hated drinking after one previous bad experience and those weren’t the clothes he had on last night. This did not register in his brain yet. Cal laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to piece together last night.

Kendra was having a party at her place which was nothing out of the usual. She always tended to do such whenever her parents left for the weekend. Cal was not always fond of her parties with the exuberant amount of beer, the relentless smoking, and just how many people there were in such a tight area, but Cal didn’t mind getting the time to spend with his friends. Whereas the pool outside was crowded with drunk teens, the basement was even more chaotic and wild. Some stoner looked to be attempting a keg stand constantly, beer pong was across the room from the DJ, and the lights— yes, the bright lights— made the place seem like a club. The pale blue and bright purple colors flooded the room in streaks that covered the sea of people. Occasionally, their silhouettes could be seen when the light hit the edges of their face just enough for Cal to distinguish who was there. Even as he laid in bed, still piecing together the events of last night, Cal could distinctly remember thinking that if Rosa had not moved away and if Lemmie had not died, Cal would have been just another person in the sea, living in the moment and forgetting life’s troubles. Of course, most of Cal’s other friends were wall flowers so last night he hung by the wall as well.

The bed creaked under Cal as he sat up, and Cal groaned more as the pain only seemed to grow throughout his whole body, especially his neck, wrists, and below his waist. Stumbling out of bed, Cal reached for his phone that normally sat directly under the night lamp beside his bed and froze. For some reason, it was not where he always put it but on the edge of the night stand instead. That absolutely meant something was wrong.

Oh, fuck!

Cal’s first thought was that his parents put him to sleep somehow. Maybe they had drugged him? Poisoned him even? Even though a whisper of rational thinking told him that most likely was not the case, Cal tended to think the worst in scenarios like these and the previous night was too fuzzy to the point where anything was a possibility. Cal froze.

Are they still home?!

The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with his parents when he felt like he had been eaten and spat back out again. Scrambling to the window of his room, over miscellaneous shirts and books strewn about his room that he refused to move, Cal pressed his face against the glass and peered down to the driveway with wild eyes that scanned for his parents’ car, most likely looking like a crazed, deranged man to any nosy onlookers. Cal shrank away from the window with a deflating sigh of relief at the empty driveway. His parents tended to be gone on Saturdays, but the fact that his phone was in a different spot was alarming.

Cal never misplaced his phone.

Taking a curious glance to his phone’s alerts, Cal’s heart melted instantly as he fell back into bed, clutching the phone close to his chest as a wide, lovestruck Charlie Brown-like smile appeared on his face. He had gotten some text messages from Jackson. He did not know why, but the sole idea that Jackson would text him made all the headaches, stomach aches, and sore throat that was so painful that it was hard to breathe fade away.

“Are you okay? Everyone is really worried about you after last night. Ben especially,” Jackson had written in perfect grammar, capitalization, and punctuation. He was always a stickler for that even in texting. “Can you please call us when you get a chance? It would make everyone a lot happier. Ben too. You know how he is.”

“yeah ofc! let me get ready first.” Cal chewed his lip, his eyes wandering over the screen for a moment. He hit send. Snickering softly to himself, Cal came up with the perfect words to send next as a wicked smirk carved onto his lips. “talk to you later sexy!~” Cal added a small kissy face to the end of the message just to make sure he would make Jackson blush.

Sarah and Peppy had just run off for some ‘fresh air’ from the rest of the party while Cal and Kendra made secret bets on if they were making out or if they were finally confessing their love to each other. Cal was convinced that they had been in an off-again-on-again relationship for the past decade while Kendra was convinced that they were both too idiotic to pull that off and keep it secret from the rest of the group. Kendra ran off after said semi-heated debate to refill drinks and liven up the party some more; after she left, only Ben, Jackson, Matt, and Cal remained by the wall. Cal forgot exactly what he said, but it was something about how he hated that he could not trust any drinks at parties for the fear of the stuff being spiked. Ben, being as eager to help as always, volunteered to go get water from the bathroom upstairs and Jackson instantly volunteered to make sure Ben did not get lost, side-tracked, or distracted. Then it was just Cal and Matt.

Matt and Cal had known each other since… since Cal moved to Pency. They grew up together. Even before meeting Rosa and Peppy, Cal met Matt. They were inseparable. For the longest time, whatever Cal did, Matt followed at his heels. He always stuck up for Cal whenever Cal was beat up and Matt always let Cal stay at his place if Cal’s parents were being especially cruel; in return, Cal threatened anyone who bullied his friend for being gay and always made his favorite treat: triple chocolate cookies. While at times some of the things Matt did were questionable like staring at the boys, Cal in particular, in the locker rooms while they changed, making odd comments at sleep overs, and randomly stroking Cal’s hair on the camping trip two summers ago, Cal always supported his gay, best friend, thinking it was all just him having good fun or whatever. They were best friends. Cal supported his best friend no matter what. Even if Matt was pressing incredibly close to Cal at the party. Even if Cal could not help but wince at he felt Matt’s hand slither around his waist at the party. Even if it felt like Matt was breathing down his neck the entire time Cal’s boyfriends were away and no one seemed to look over and help him in his discomfort at the party.

Despite being best friends, Cal could not help but be somewhat relieved when Ben and Jackson returned.

After texting Jackson and shoving his phone into the pockets of the shorts that were not his, Cal felt a lot better despite the pain. Stumbling down the hall, Cal pushed open the door to the bathroom. Cal did not even look at his reflection in the mirror for a moment and just set his phone down on the counter. Turning the sink on, Cal splashed water in his face before sighing softly as he gripped the counter. Cal reached for his NYC hat that he rested above his mirror but froze.

Cal’s neck was red with hand marks, hickies covered his skin, and his wrists were bruised with similar handprints to the ones that choked his neck. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts that were tight to his skin. Clothes that were not his and that had ‘my property’ written in sharpie across the light gray shirt. Cal’s skin crawled at the sight of his reflection as he felt like his skin itself was dirty and gross and almost sinful. Cal could not move. He could not even breathe as he looked at himself in horror.

The rest of whatever happened last night suddenly came rushing back to him. Cal was never one to leave his drink exposed for long with the fear of someone sneaking liquor into his drink. Everyone else seemed to be drunk so Cal would not be surprised if someone would be stupid enough to do that. But of course, Cal set his cup down for minute— it was only a fucking minute!— to go find Kendra in the crowd and bring her back to the others. That was probably when it happened.

Around that time, Sarah and Peppy finally returned with wide grins on their faces. Cal took the time to tease them and quietly boasted to Kendra that he definitely won their previous bet. The seemingly most infamous group in Pency, all seven of them, were talking, laughing, and having fun while Cal sipped from his drink. Cal could barely make out their words over the loud music and he had trouble responding as he began to slur his words a bit. Peppy was asking Cal something when he started to feel… nauseous. Peppy had to clap several times to get Cal’s attention. Even then, his friend looked blurry. Cal could faintly remember someone that was probably Kendra or Ben placed a hand on his shoulder. The colors of the bright room blended into a spectacle that looked supernatural or something similar to what he would see when he was off his medication and the music seemed to slow. His friends began to crowd him, but he could not make out their faces anymore as he leaned weakly into the wall. Cal slowly slid down the wall and to the floor as the distressed voices of his friends that flooded his ears slowly washed away. The last thing Cal remembered was someone— most likely Matt because of how easily he brought Cal back to his feet and pulled Cal’s arm around his neck whereas Peppy might have been able to only drag him and Jackson would have simply carried him like a feather— told the others in a clear voice: “Don’t worry. I can bring Collie home.”

Bzzt!

Cal’s phone buzzed from the sink counter. Cal’s hand was shaking so much that he could not pick it up at first. It was a text from Matt.

“hey Collie can we talk about last night?”

Cal hesitated.

“yeah sure. what about it?”

You know that moment when you are about to receive a text? When the three dots appear while they type their message and your heart is racing out of your chest for whatever someone might send you next after you said something you know you should not have? Cal was feeling this anxiety but multiplied by two.

Bzzt!

It was just an image, but it made his stomach churn; this was almost worse than looking at his reflection. It was a picture looking down onto Cal who was lying in bed in the same clothes he had yesterday, his eyes closed as Cal was still passed out cold. Not only was it disturbing how the angle of the picture made it seem like the image was taken by someone directly on top of him, but someone had their hand slipped just under his shirt enough that Cal could see his torso.

While Cal’s mind raced to find an explanation to all of this, a faint ‘bzzt!’ could be heard from his phone. Another image. Cal had his hands pinned to the bed by larger, paler, and bonier hands with his head tilted to the side and eyebrows frowned from the hickies a bites that littered his neck.

Bzzt! And another image. Cal’s shirt was off this time and his eyes were opened slightly in panic as a result of someone’s hands wrapped around his throat.

And another. And another and another. And another and another and another and another and another and-

Cal dropped the phone in a blind panic while the phone vibrated repeatedly on the floor with loud ‘bzzt!’s that seemed to grow in volume. The phone seemed to be satanic as it chanted in his ears, forcing Cal to take uneasy steps back until he was pressed against the wall.

Please no not again…!

Everything’s fine! It’s— It’s just a prank! Matt wouldn’t ever actually—

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Cal covered his ears as he slid down the wall.

Not again, not again, not again! Please don’t tell me that I—

—hurt me, right? No no no no no! He’s my best friend! He wouldn’t— He’d never—

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Tears welled up in his eyes. Cal took gasps of air like a dying fish, and if he didn’t want to vomit when he first woke up, he definitely did now. The bathroom seemed to light up with warped blues and wretched purples that drowned him. He hadn’t felt this way since he was eight.

Nonononononononononononononononononononononononono!

—do anything like— like that to me! He’s my best friend! My best friend! This is just a sick joke! Yeah! A joke!!

Bzztbzztbzztbzztbzzt!

Cal shakily grabbed the seat of the toilet and vomited greenish liquid, unable to breath as his knuckles turned white from his grip. The burning in his throat and mouth made his lips quiver as he tried his best to calm himself down as tears spilled from his cheeks.

Then everything went quiet.

Silence.

Bzzt!

Cal shakily crawled to his phone, his thoughts screaming for him to run, to smash his phone, to do anything but check the latest message. A loud ringing entered his ears and his whole body went numb. On his knees, Cal shivered as he picked up his phone and curled around it as he held it to his chest.

“let’s strike a deal, Cal.”

!!Warning!! This will contain gaslighting, drug use('prescribed' and unintentional), multiple types of abuse(hopefully not too graphic), self-harm(again, hopefully not too graphic), extremely dark implications, and possibly more. Read with caution and at your own risk.

*~*~*~*

Gwyar laid on the couch of one of Smith’s and his mutual friends, Derick. Though, his friend certainly didn’t know… Neither did his family. No, as far as anyone else knew he was still staying at Smith’s. It was fine, he knew that. In all honesty, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Not when it would worry Smith. And it would worry Smith.

--

He sighed, his phone went off. Well, take back that no one else knew. That was Smith’s ringtone. Gwyar considered just letting it ring, but… It was Smith! Smith deserved an answer. So, he picked up the phone and pressed the accept button.

--

“Ayo, this is Gwyar. What’s up, Smith?” Keep things casual, he could play it off. Totally.

--

“Where are you? I woke up to find you gone and got worried.”

--

Worried? Gwyar supposed that could make sense… Especially for Smith. He definitely sounded worried… “Chill, I’m at Derick’s. Nothing’s wrong, ‘kay?”

--

“Chill? I woke up to find my boyfriend gone, and you want me to chill? I thought you’d left- Or that something had happened to you-”

--

Definitely worried, and a bit upset now… Gwyar needed to fix that. He had to. “Well, nothing happened to me. And I didn’t leave, promise. I never will, alright?”

--

Tears being choked back, “Back what if something- What if something had happened? What if- I’d woken up and you were gone, Gwyar… You were just- Gone. I thought-”

--

Shoot. He needed to make things better, right? Definitely. “Come on, nothing happened. Nothing’s going to happen. Besides, not like it’d be that big of a deal. Right? This is just me.”

--

“Not a big deal?! You’re my boyfriend! Of course it’d be a big deal! I love you!”

--

Gwyar stared down towards the floor, eyes searching for an answer before rolling, “Sure, sure. I bet you do. And you miss me too… Look, you don’t have to say that to me.”

--

“I do miss you. Why would you think I don’t?”

--

Gwyar went to speak, before pausing. Why did he think that? Smith hadn’t done anything to him. “I mean… I, uhm… I dunno..?” He scratched at his scalp lightly, eyebrows furrowing.

--

Silence stretched, and then Smith spoke. “Have you taken your medication recently?”

--

Gwyar thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “I don’t… I don’t think so. Think I ran out, actually… Yesterday.”

--

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know I have a stash for just in case, right? Since money’s tight and all.”

--

Gwyar sighed and shrugged again, “I, uh… I don’t know. I guess it slipped my mind.”

--

“Well, no wonder you were doubting my love for you. Do you wanna come home now? I miss you.”

--

Gwyar nodded, and then quickly actually answered. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll start coming back now.”

--

Smith hummed, “How about I hotwire my dad’s car and I come pick you up instead? That sound good?”

--

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” He nodded, and then heard Smith hang up. He pocketed his phone and stood, sneaking out of the house the way he came in. The front door.

--

The wait wasn’t long, and soon Gwyar was hopping into the beat down car of Smith’s dad. The ride was short, and silent. Smith held one of his hands as he drove.

--

They piled out once they were parked, sneaking back into the Walsh's household through Smith’s window. Smith turned to him and whispered, “I’ll grab your meds for you.”

--

Gwyar nodded and sat down on the bed, watching his boyfriend leave the room. This wait was a bit longer, in all honesty. Or at least felt longer. Truthfully, the entire room made him uncomfortable and tense. He never knew why, actually. Which was strange. Smith’s appearance was strange too, the boy was tall and he just seemed more mature. Not by much, of course, just a year or two at max. But still, it was almost unsettling. He’d always assumed that he’d end up being the older one in his relationships, after all.

--

It was fine though, he was happy with Smith. And as long as Smith was happy with him… Happy enough not to use his father’s gun… Everything would be fine. Everything would be good. Gwyar just had to play nice and not upset Smith and the two would get to grow up together. It’s one job, how hard could it be? He could do it. He could.

--

Smith came back into the room, holding a foggy glass of water. Gwyar had long ago stopped questioning the foggy state of the water. It was simply because the household didn’t have enough money to pay for clean water. So, he took the glass and the pills that Smith handed him, and downed them. He made sure to finish the water too, since he didn’t want to upset Smith by wasting it.

--

Smith leaned against his side as he did so, an arm wrapped around him. He set the glass onto the nightstand and wrapped an arm around Smith. Things were fine, as long as Smith was happy enough to stay.

--

After a bit of silence, he spoke softly, “I’m sorry for scaring you…” His voice sounded tired, though he didn’t feel any exhaustion.

--

Smith pulled him close, voice soft, “It’s okay… I know you didn’t mean too.” Harsh, serious eyes looked into his, matching the harsh whisper, “Right?”

--

Gwyar’s eyebrows furrowed, Smith never looked like that. The arm around him seemed tighter now. Was he hallucinating? Smith would never look at him like that, and had never sounded like that when speaking to him. This had to be a hallucination, right? He already heard voices, this was just another cruel prank of the universe.

--

Things dipped as he tried to nod, tried to speak. The arms were too tight around him, pulling him as close as possible to Smith. He lifted a hand, it was slower than it should’ve been and Smith shifted to grab it with one of his own while not letting the grasp on him falter.

--

Gwyar was gone before he could register anything else. He came in and out of consciousness… Well, in and out of a fever dream and hallucination. He went back and forth between them.

--

Smith was on top of him, things dipped. He was trying to punch Smith, he caught it, things dipped. Hands around his throat, suffocating him, things dipped. A sadistic smile that certainly didn’t fit Smith, things dipped. Pain, just distant pain… Things dipped. He was flailing, it didn’t do anything, things dipped. Something was in his mouth, keeping him from making any noise, things dipped. He was on his back, something(or someone? He couldn’t tell) was on him, things dipped. His wrists were above his head, held tightly together by something, things dipped. Warm liquid going down his back and sides and shoulders, something that felt like a belt coming down and striking him, things dipped. More distant pain(and some sort of distant, sick pleasure), things dipped…

--

He woke up, cuddled against Smith in bed. Gwyar flailed, failing out of the bed and onto the floor with a thud. It was a weekend, Smith’s parents worked on weekends. They were probably already gone, judging by the sun outside the window. He didn’t care though, he curled and breathed deeply, rapidly. Déjà vu cut him like a knife from the fever dreams. Because it had to be a fever dream- Right? Smith would never.

--

Smith groaned, a light whisper, “You good, love?”

--

Gwyar felt tears in his eyes, it had only been a nightmare then. Definitely. There was no way Smith would’ve actually done any of that. Any of… Smith was good, Smith was safe, Smith wasn’t like that.

--

“Love? You alright?” Smith had gotten up, Gwyar had taken too long to answer. He looked up in a panic, he wasn’t sure why, he could almost feel the fear in his own eyes.

--

Smith crouched down to him, “Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?”

--

And Gwyar knew he should nod, that that was all that had happened. A nightmare. It hadn’t been real. And yet, while still on the verge of tears, he whispered. “I… I don’t know…”

--

Smith’s head cocked to the side like a dog’s, “What don’t you know? Whether you’re okay, or whether or not you’d had a nightmare?”

--

Gwyar shook lightly, but he didn’t let any tears fall. “B-Both…?”

--

“Well… What happened in this maybe-nightmare?” A soft tone. Smith couldn’t have done it. Right?

--

“Y-You… You, uh… H-Hurt… Me…? I… I think…?”

--

The effect was instantaneous, Smith coiled as if he’d been slapped. Gwyar understood why, he’d basically just accused his boyfriend of hurting him. “Why are you even questioning if that was a bad dream?! I’d- I’d never! Do you really think so low of me that- That-”

--

Gwyar’s eyes widened, and he hugged Smith, “No! No! I don’t think low of you at all! I’m sorry! I don’t know why I’d doubt that it was a nightmare!”

--

Smith hugged him back gently, voice calmer, “I’m sorry… I overreacted there. It was probably just something your mind cooked up to make you feel insecure. I’m sorry…”

--

“N-No, don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have believed it… I should be the one apologizing.. I’m sorry.”

--

“It’s okay, Gwyar… It’s okay. Everything’s okay. How about I make us some breakfast and you go wash up? You look like you could use it.” A small playful tone to his voice now. That was good. He nodded against Smith’s shoulder, before they both pulled away and Smith went off to start breakfast.

--

Gwyar stood, still feeling the déjà vu that the nightmare had brought about. It seemed similar. Given his past though… Yeah, that had to be why. That had to be why. After all, Smith would never.

--

He made his way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door out of a paranoid routine he’d started whenever he had first begun staying with Smith. He turned the sink on and splashed his face, allowing himself to stare at it for a bit. He had a black eye, bites along his neck, and a bruise forming there too. Had Smith not seen them? He hadn’t brought them at all. He blinked a few times, but they didn’t go away. Was it a stubborn hallucination? It had to be, right?

--

He shook lightly, the feeling of déjà vu settling in again. He took in a deep breath and opened the left third drawer of the bathroom sink drawers. The bottom one, on the left. Digging to the bottom of it was easy, and he quickly found what he’d been searching for. A razorblade. If his mind and body were wanting something familiar, he could give it something familiar. Not like he hadn’t earned it, first worrying Smith last night and now accusing him of hurting him?

--

He rolled his sleeves up where scars new and old laid, and brought the blade to his wrist before sliding it across with practiced ease. He did so five times, on each arm. He stared at the blood flowing out, deeper than the last time but certainly not deep enough to kill. After a few seconds, he pushed his sleeves back down and shoved the razorblade back into the bottom of the left third drawer, shutting it.

--

He washed his hands again, getting rid of any of the blood that had managed to get on his palms. Then he dried them off, unlocked the bathroom door, and stepped out. The hallucination still hadn’t left… He could ask Smith if he saw anything, if he didn’t then it was just a really stubborn hallucination. He was sure. After all, Smith had never lied to him before. Why would he now?

--

So, he walked down to the kitchen, watching from the not-so-doorway doorway as Smith finished up scrambling eggs. He cleared his throat hesitantly, “D-Do I have a, uh, a black eye to you?”

--

Smith set eggs on a plate and turned to him, brows furrowed. “No… Why? Are you having a hallucination again?”

--

“Again?” Gwyar cocked his head to the side. That would explain the déjà vu, at least.

--

Smith raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. That’s what the medication is for, remember?”

--

And Gwyar had to shake his head. Because no, he didn’t remember that. To be honest, he wasn’t really sure what his medication was for anymore.

--

“Ah… Well, memory loss was a possible side effect… So long as you never forget me, right?” A teasing smile, and then a slightly more serious look. “But seriously, are you having a hallucination? You can take more of your medication if you need to, alright?”

--

Gwyar hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. He didn’t want to worry Smith anymore than he already had… “No, I just had a headache and black eyes cause those sometimes, so I was just wondering… Thank you.”

--

Smith smiled, Gwyar was hit by déjà vu again but stayed silent, “Ah, alright.” The smile became soft, sweet. “Well, breakfast is ready. Come eat, okay?”

--

Gwyar nodded, and went to grab a plate. Everything was fine. As long as Smith was happy, as long as Smith stayed around, everything was fine.

!Warning! This will contain high standards, slight self-loathing, implied neglect, implied abuse, underage smoking, and perhaps more that I forgot to mention.

Nabih walked down the sidewalk towards his family’s residence. Slow, hunched, and certainly miserably. He was coming from school, it was a progress report day, so he held it within his hands as he walked. He hadn’t looked at it yet, he always waited for his parents to see it first… Which usually meant waiting a few weeks.

--

Which was fine. They were busy, they had grown-up stuff to do. Like work. They had their own business, after all. It meant a lot of traveling for them. Never him though. He had school that he had to do.

--

Suddenly, as he neared the house, he stopped. Frozen. There was a car in the driveway, there was almost never a car in the driveway. Not unless if… They were home. His back immediately straightened, and he walked with a purpose towards the house. This didn’t happen often, when they came home it was usually after he was already there… Maybe they’d all actually get to talk? Maybe they’d do the things that others spoke of? Nabih doubted it, and he held the doubt like a lifeline so he wouldn’t be disappointed… But he still hoped. He was allowed to.

--

He entered the house, into the front living room. His father was sitting in the recliner, the smell of alcohol and smoke suddenly hitting his senses. He held back a cringe, and watched as his father looked at him. And then seconds later as the recognition clicked in his eyes, and then he was looking away towards the TV again.

--

Right. Yeah. That made sense. They barely saw each other. Nabih stood there for a bit, back straight and face blank. He shifted, his father glanced at him. “There’s wine in the kitchen, do you mind grabbin’ it? Your mother will be in ‘ere in a moment, she was sayin’ somethin’ about checkin’ grades.”

--

Nabih looked at him, and nodded. The tiniest sliver of hope rooted in him. He found his way to the kitchen, an easy feat for him. Giving how often he had to make his own meals, since everyone went with his parents when they went on business trips.

--

Finding the wine wasn’t a hard feat either, given how he had explored every crevice of the house by now. After all, when you’re in a house alone at five and you don’t really have any rules that can be enforced, you tend to be a bit curious. He didn’t go looking around anymore, of course. His father had made sure to instill the fear of doing so whenever he’d gotten back that first time. Nabih didn’t blame him, of course. That would just be counterproductive, since it was simply for a lesson that had to be taught.

--

Either way, he easily found the wine cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles. He closed it and headed back to the living room, finding his father staring at the TV again. He straightened his back and walked over, handing it over. Again, his father looked at him for a few seconds before the recognition came and his father took the bottle from him. He cocked his head towards the couch, so Nabih took a seat and waited patiently for his mother.

--

When she came in, she came right over and sat on the couch. Not right up against him, of course. A good bit of distance away, in all honesty. She held her hand out to him, and he handed over the progress report. She opened it, overlooking the grades for a second before glancing back up at him. “How come you have a 96 in your mathematics class and a 95 in social studies?”

--

“My teachers said that that was the highest score anyone got.” Nabih responded, hesitantly. Cautiously. Avoiding questions was always a risk in this situation. Hopefully it worked out this time.

--

Her eyes narrowed at him, “That’s not what I asked. What’s the rule with your grades? We expect straight 100s from you. You’re smart enough for it, aren’t you? Do you simply lack motivation? I’m sure your father doesn’t want the business to go to someone who lacks motivation. And if it isn’t motivation then it is intellectual ability, so do you mean to tell us that you are not capable of a simple three digit score?”

--

Nabih didn’t allow his eyes to glance away, to glance towards his father, “I’m perfectly capable of a three digit score, I got one in all of my other classes.”

--

Her eyebrow raised, “So it's motivation then? How can we motivate you?”

--

He didn’t answer. Any answer would be wrong. He knew how this went. She continued after a few seconds. “Well, given that in total you are nine points away from having a triple digit score in each class, you may go up to your room. We’ll wake up for breakfast tomorrow, other than that your father and I will discuss how to properly motivate you.”

--

He nodded, slowly. “I understand. Good night, mother.” And he stood, leaving the living room and going upstairs to his room.

--

He placed his school bag down and allowed himself to lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Time passed by, slowly, his stomach rumbled. The sound of footsteps, so different from the usual silence that even if he wasn’t listening for it, he’d hear it.

--

He sat up, the door opened. His father stepped in, the slightest of recognition in his eyes. His father stood there for a moment, in the doorway, and then stepped in fully. The door was closed behind him. A bottle was in his hand, possibly close to empty. Nabih slowly stood, keeping an eye on him.

--

“Your mother and I came up with a punishment. No son of mine, especially one with the legacy name, should be acting the way you are. Two classes, you practically failed. So, to teach you a lesson, we’ve decided to do something. Come downstairs.” His voice was gruff, eyes strict and disappointed.

--

Nabih nodded, and followed him downstairs, taking a seat on the couch as he was pointed to. His father took out a pack of cigarettes and lighter, set it on the coffee table, and took a seat. “You were nine points off, so along with not eating until breakfast, we’re going to have you finish off nine of these. Since eventually, when you fail high school, you’ll be smoking each and every point you ever failed while you were in it.”

--

And Nabih was handed one from the pack, along with the lighter. His father’s keen and strict eyes stayed upon him. Slowly, hesitantly, he brought the smoke up and lit it. A simple punishment for his idiocy, rather light in all honesty. Surely, surely this was what needed to be done. If only to make sure that he succeeds in life later on… At least it wasn’t like what his father had done to him before, that had been worse. Though, to be fair, he’d deserved that too.

Hey everyone! So sorry I've been so inactive, I took a much-needed mental health break. I'm feeling better now, though still a little stressed because of finals next week, but I should (hopefully) be back and active again!

-

Oh, and, as an apology (and because I felt like it-) I wrote you guys a little special short story about Roman (Leroy's brother), so enjoy that!

-

*Quick trigger warning for implied suicide and lots of general angst.* Don’t worry, there’s some fluff too, it’s bittersweet. :)

Point of view: Roman Hall

(The night before the ‘accident’)

There weren’t many people that understood me, and fewer that made me feel understood and cared about. The list I had determined so far consisted of two people only: my older brother, Leroy, and my beloved, Sparrow. My sisters were, of course, on the slightly longer list of people that I cared about and loved, but they didn’t quite make the cut for the ‘understanding’ part. Actually, I’m pretty sure they were more confused by me than most people somehow. I’m not really sure why, but I let it slide. Their questions were entertaining anyway, and the further confused expressions after a gave them a vague, more confusing answer (partially without meaning to, it made sense to me, after all), were priceless.

Moving on, they weren’t the people I was concerned about at the moment. My attention belonged solely to my beloved and his voice. We sat together, Sparrow and I, atop a small hill a little ways from town and overlooking the valley, under the brilliant night sky. Sparrow was singing, guitar in hands, with his perfect, silvery voice, as I leaned against him, resting my head lightly on his shoulder and listening. There was no sound better, no sound purer, than my Sparrow’s voice, and no one could ever convince me otherwise. He was an angle, a glowing figure in the moonlight, his silky black hair glossy and full and his deep, brown eyes, shining like stars and truly illuminating more than the actual moon and stars themselves. I captured his face in my mind then, promising to never let it go. I was content, no, more than, I was happy. It wasn’t often that I was happy, but I was now, with his warm, soft skin against my arm and his perfect voice in my ears. He sang, and he sang for me.

As Sparrow’s song drew to a close, hitting one last cord before dissipating into the warm night air, he turned to me, carefully placing his instrument on the grassy floor before shifting and opening his arms in a welcoming embrace.

“Did you like it?” He questioned, looking down at me with those beautiful, dark eyes as I made myself comfortable, leaning back into him and looking up to meet his gaze. I smirked slightly.

“How could I not? Your music’s always perfect, my songbird.”

Sparrow smiled softly and placed a light kiss on my forehead. I didn’t miss the soft pink taint on his cheeks from the nickname, though. “I do not know, I can’t read your mind, love.”

I grinned. “No one can, I like to think it’s a special skill of mine.”

The other chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Yep!” I grinned up at my beloved who smiled back before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips this time. I accepted, and, after a moment, we separated again, letting the silence spread comfortably between us. Sparrow started gently running his fingers through my hair and I sighed in quiet contentment. All was good with him. It always was. “What star do you think I am?” I asked suddenly, I had been examining the night sky, and the question appeared from nowhere, as they so often do.

Sparrow tilted his head slightly and looked at me a moment as I awaited his answer eagerly. I was truly curious. Sparrow, used to my outbursts of questions at this point, recovered from his confusion quickly, and a small, knowing smile touched his lips. A smile that I had come to recognize when I said or asked something that he found either annoyingly obvious or completely adorable. I still couldn’t decipher the difference between the two.

“Why think so little of yourself? You aren’t a star at all!” I was taken aback by the answer and was about to protest when Sparrow continued, eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and affection. “You are a whole galaxy, Roman. My galaxy.”

The words died on my lips and, in the next few seconds, I believe I lost all comprehension. Rendered speechless, I felt my cheeks flushing bright red and my ears felt hot. Sparrow simply watched, a soft laugh escaping his lips as I transformed into a sputtering tomato.

“And you are absolutely adorable.”

“You’re terrible!” I protested, as soon as I could form proper sentences again. I lightly smacked his chest, causing him to laugh harder. “That’s not fair!”

“But you like it, yes? And it’s the truth.”

I pouted but gave in. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love you, Songbird.”

“I love you too, my galaxy.”

I looked to the sky again and I couldn’t help but smile. “There’s a castle up there, you know,” I stated suddenly, pointing to the night sky. “A whole kingdom, actually. And it’s perfect there, with a room just for us and no pain or worry.”

Sparrow followed my gaze. “You think.”

I smiled. “I know. And one day we’ll go there, and you can sing for everyone. Even the gods, if there are any, will be impressed, and you can sing for paradise!”

He hummed. “I wish only to sing for you.” He stated.

“Nonsense! The whole world is going to know you! You’ll be the best musician in the world! Well, you already are, but only I know now. I want you to go out there and show everyone how amazing my Songbird is, follow your dream of music! They’ll love you!”

“Will they?”

“Of course! No one wouldn’t!” I reached up and ran my fingers across the soft skin of his cheek, Sparrow grabbed my hand and placed a light kiss on my hand.

“But what about you? I want to sing for you, love.”

I grinned. “You will! I’ll be with you every step of the way, even if you can’t always see me.”

Sparrow sighed but smiled softly. “I will try then, and still sing for you, my galaxy. Always for you.”
I beamed. “I’ll always listen. Even in our castle after we leave this world. I’ll hear your songs forever, Sparrow, and I’ll cherish every one.”

My beloved smiled and my heart melted.

If I had one regret, it was that I would have to wait for him within our castle walls.

---

Point of view: Sparrow Hart

(15 years later)

I sighed softly to myself as I left the stage, giving myself a few moments to breathe before going out to greet my supporters. I had grown quite popular within the last few years, having a top-of-the-charts song within my first album. It was nice to be recognized, and nice to know that people really did enjoy my work, but it was also exhausting. I’d never been a particularly social person, so so many interactions within a short period of time was tiring. I constantly tried to remind myself of how lucky I was, though, to be able to live as comfortably as I did. And I also reminded myself that I was not doing this simply for myself, not for the fame, glory, or money, but for the boy that I had, and still, loved. That thought alone made every second more than worth it.

After a ten-minute break, I took a breath and walked outside, greeting fans, giving out signatures, and taking pictures. Everything was normal. That was until I started my walk home (this was an in-town concert, my favorite kind because I was able to get home quickly and actually recognized a few of the people in the crowds). A girl, I estimated she was around seventeen, called out my name and ran up to me, looking rather winded.

“Sir, hello! Sorry! I don’t mean to bother you, I was a bit late to get in line at the concert and it seems I missed you.” She said, obviously apologetic. I smiled.

“That’s alright, how can I help you?” I questioned, fully expecting her to simply ask for a photo. Instead, she blushed a little and looked down.

“Well, um, I actually wanted to ask you something. I, well, I don’t mean to sound rude, but, don’t you think the name Songbird is a little… generic?” She asked, looking up at me with questioning eyes.

I hesitated. “Well, I suppose it could be,” I replied, unsure of how else to answer.

“Well then… why’d you choose it? Just wondering, I don’t mean to be intrusive or anything!”

I shook my head and smiled again, looking up at the sky for a moment. “No, no, that’s alright. I don’t mind you asking. It was a nickname, given to me from… an old friend of mine. I guess it just felt right.”

The girl seemed to think a moment, then nodded, evidently satisfied. She grinned.

“Okay then! Well, can I have a picture? Then I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sure.”

We took a picture and she ran off. I watched her go and then started walking, no longer heading toward home, but rather, another familiar place. A small hill overlooking the valley with a singular tree and a singular headstone.

Upon arrival, I shrugged off my guitar and opened the case, taking out the smooth, wooden instrument and starting to strum the stings quietly, playing a familiar tune. One that I had kept out of the public, one reserved only for me and the galaxy. My galaxy.

I looked up at the stars and smiled, leaning lightly against the headstone.

“I know you’re listening, my love, and I play this for you as everything else. One day, my wings will be strong enough to fly to your castle. To you. Wait for me, love, and until we meet again, know that my voice is yours.”

As if in response, a soft breeze ruffled my hair. I smiled, I played, I sang.

For my galaxy.

Ah yayyyyy! Can't wait for this! :D (also first post! Hehehe!~ >:3)