#Before anyone calls it yes this is middle child behavior and I regret nothing

[undeadhousewife]

Something I think only children miss out on is the absolute bullshit levels of mind fuckery siblings will go through. Was just thinking about once a week we got to take turns picking out a box of Little Debbie snack cakes, and I quickly learned if I bought the peanut butter wafer bars my siblings hated I could in fact enjoy the entire box to myself. Did I love the cookies? No. They were clearly not good. But they were mine.

[pudimsuki]

Hello! For your event (congrats btw!)

Tamaki Amajiki + Movie Theater + NSFW (preferably a blow job or hand job maybe? Fem!reader too♡)

Please and thank you <3

A little help | Amajiki Tamaki x reader

Hi! Thank you for participating and I'm sorry this took so long!

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), hand job, public place, a little swearing.

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon with your boyfriend. It was Saturday and you two decided to go to the movies since neither of you had gone out together for a few weeks. Hadou promised that it was a great movie, but the more the screen time passes the more you regret coming. It had a weird narrative and the story doesn't make much sense. None of you wanted to admit, of course, since you didn't want to ruin the date, but it was getting hard to focus on the scenes.

This is, until a specific scene appeared. It was a really spicy one, and despite being pretty normal in movies nowadays, it was still awkward to watch those things with your boyfriend by your side.

You notice Tamaki’s mood changing in a second. Of course, you (and everyone who spent 10 seconds with him, really) knew how shy he could be, so you just kept looking straight ahead like nothing was happening in order to make him feel comfortable.

Well, at least that was what you thought. You started to be aware of his nonstoping movement on his chair, even after the scene was over. He moved his legs constantly and kept moving as if he wasn’t finding any comfortable position to remain seated.

“Tama?”, you called softly. “It’s everything ok?”

He coughed suddenly, looking embarrassed, like a child caught by its mother doing something wrong. He nods quickly, not looking at you.

You frowned. “You sure?”

“Y-yes. Let’s just watch the movie.”

“Right.” You murmur, finding his behavior a little odd, but maybe he was still thinking about the hot scene from a few moments ago.

Some minutes passed and now you were definitely sure that something was wrong. He tried to stop moving, but from time to time you noticed how he gripped the armchair, especially when you leaned closer to him or talked to him.

Now, you knew how shy Tamaki could be, but after a year and a half dating each other, he used to be comfortable enough around you to not act like that anymore.

You were ready to ask again if he was not feeling good and offered to leave the date sooner when you finally noticed.

Your timid pretty boyfriend passed the last minutes trying to cover his not-so-little friend down there who so kindly decided to wake up in the middle of the cinema. He wasn’t feeling bad, after all. In fact, due to the circumstances, you could say he was as healthy as ever, if you know what I mean.

You widened your eyes when you noticed the volume between his legs. You could practically feel him praying it would go away before you, or anyone else, noticed.

After recovering from the shock, you silently pondered for a few seconds whether you should pretend not to notice, especially to not make him uncomfortable. But after some consideration, a small smirk spread across your lips. Well, why not?

Subtly, you let your hand slip between the chairs until it lightly touches his tight. Tamaki immediately reacts to the unexpected touch, almost jumping from his chair. He moved his head with inhuman speed to face you, but you kept staring at the big screen, feigning innocence.

You heard him clear his throat and try to gently pull away without alarming you.

Sorry, love. You think, trying to contain your devilish smile. That’s not happening.

Still not looking at him, you started moving your fingers up and down his leg, letting your nails gently scrape the material of his pants.

Tamaki held his breath, trying not to show his nervousness at your loving innocent touch.

What would you think of him if you saw he’s got a hard-on in the movie theater? He couldn’t even think about it.

He was about to get up and go straight to the bathroom, covering his front in a way that no one would notice his, uh… problem, but apparently, you had other plans. In one quick movement, you squeezed his thigh and this time he couldn't help but notice the smile you were trying to contain. Looks like his innocent girlfriend wasn't all that innocent.

“What are you doing?” He murmured. You could feel the panic in his voice.

“I think you need a little help down there, don’t you?” You said it back, batting your eyelashes sweetly at him.

Oh fuck.

“Don’t.” He said through clenched teeth, noticing your fingers getting closer and closer to his bulge.

“Let me take care of this.” You whispered.

“(Y/n), I don’t think… aaaaah” A long low moan left his lips the moment your hand came in contact with his crotch. If it was even possible, he became redder than he already was. He frantically looked around to see if someone had noticed.

"Shh, don't worry, the theater is almost empty and everyone is far more interested in the movie than in us."

You move your hand up and down, slowly. He closed his eyes, bucking his hips slightly at the contact.

“You want me to stop?” You asked, knowing that if he really wants it, you would cease the teasing immediately. “It’s up to you.” The softness in your voice was killing him. “I can stop if you want.”

“No!” He shouted, grabbing your wrist the moment you pretended to move away, not noticing the volume in his own voice. You almost chuckled at his impatience.

Thank God you were sitting on the top row, far away from everyone there.

“Ok then. I’ll help you, love.”

With that said, you proceed to unzip his jeans at an agonizing slow pace, looking at him straight in the eye. You could practically feel his neediness.

With a sweet smile, you reached inside his underwear, feeling his hard cock in your palm. You ran your fingers slowly along its length.

"Don't tease me", he growls with closed eyes.

"I'm not", you chuckled, finally grabbing him. "Just feeling you, Tama".

He doesn't answer, leaning back in his chair and delighting in the way you stroke his cock instead, already dripping with pre cum.

“Fuck, baby” He moans. His voice low and sexy.

“You like this, uh?” You tighten around him more, increasing the speed. "Gonna cum here? Make a mess, love?"

He covered his mouth with a hand, you were killing him.

Your hand kept going up and down in a delirious rhythm. Below you, some people laughed at some joke the main character made in the movie, but you were far from paying attention at the time.

Your fingers were already slipping with the sticky liquid he released as you worked his length, squeezing its head lightly every time your fist came in contact with it.

Tamaki threw back his head and moaned, uttering a series of profanities that no one but you could say the boy knew. His facial expression, once obscured by the darkness of the cinema, was suddenly brightened by a scene lit up on the big screen, allowing you to see his face taken with pleasure.

It didn't take long for him to cum, not when he was holding back for so long, and not when your magic fingers worked so well on him. A part of him he never knew existed savoring the fact that you were in public. When it ended, your hand was covered with his semen and your boyfriend was panting beside you, loads of the white substance spreading all over his pants.

“Now, it wasn’t that hard. Was it?” You chuckled.

He didn’t answer, still composing himself from what you just made him do.

“Well, now I need to clean this.” You murmur to yourself, looking at your fingers with a smile. “And I'll bring tissues for you too. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Before you could give a single step, Tamaki grabbed your wrist. His eyes burning with desire.

“We’re going home.”

You swallow with the sudden change of his temper. “The movie is not over yet.”

“We’re going home.” He repeated, firmly. “And we’re finishing this. You’re gonna think twice before teasing me like that again.”

Maybe you should take your shy boyfriend to the movies more often, after all.

Ugh, I'm a little insecure about this post, honestly. But I hope you enjoyed it! :)

Thank you for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account: @angie-1306 ]

[bakugoukatsuki-rising]

I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!

So!

On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.

Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.

His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.

(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)

Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.

Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.

This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.

These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.

(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)

So! Next!

Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.

I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)

This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.

I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."

I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.

Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.

This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.

We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.

I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.

The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.

Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.

Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.

Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.

It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.

And lastly. The actual cover.

I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.

Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.

Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.

Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.

Theres so much regret and again, softness.

Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.

(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.

As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.

*dreamy sigh*

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.

Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!

You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it. 

That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected. 

These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions. 

And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it. 

The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.

To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one. 

I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!  

Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this. 

[bowtied-pasta]

Splendor and True

You know what it do 😩👌

“So,” Offender began. “Splendor, huh?”

True sighed. It had been a decent night, and now he wanted to grill her for the juicy stuff. It was supposed to just be movies, snacks and a sleep over at his. She didn’t know what she was expecting, honestly. The man was worse than middle school gossip, he wanted to know everything and he always had a way of finding out. It didn’t help that he could read her mind on occasion either.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it, but I think if anyone could help you, it would be me. Us being the same species and you not knowing much about our courting or the like.” He nudged her side gently, trying to coax her into admitting it.

She rolled her eyes, smiling up at him gently in amusement. Nudging him right back. “Don’t lie to me like that, you’re just nosey.”

He rolled his eyes, in his own way. So much like the way she did, but he didn’t have the organs to show for it. Always something interesting to notice with these men. “Okay, yeah. I want the hot, juicy details about my newest little pals not so little crush. Can you blame me? It’s not too often I get to be involved in a situation like this.”

Wearily watching him smile down at her, she felt rather targeted. “I... well. Fine. I do like him.”

He hardly got any time to have a victory moment at hearing he was right as she began spiraling on. “I like him very much but I can’t tell him because oh my god what if he doesn’t like me and he just tolerates my existence in his home until he can help me figure some stuff out and then he’ll send me on my way to do who knows what because he probably just plans to ship me off to my ancestor when we find him and its not that I’m not open to getting to know them when I find them, but I sure would like to stay with him and-��

She silenced when he placed his large hand on top of her head. “Hey. It’s not like that. I wouldn’t tell you to go after him unless I thought he liked you too. I mean, I like to play but that would be kind of cruel.”

She sighed, nodding as she plopped down onto the couch they were sitting on. She had to hand it to them, wherever these guys got their furniture from, it was always comfortable despite it being larger than what she was used to. Her human proportions making her feel like a child when sitting in any of their homes unless she traveled into proxy dwellings, more human sized accommodations always in those portions. “Yeah, okay... I just. Well, it’s like you said. I don’t understand the courting stuff. I’m afraid he doesn’t like me like that, I mean honestly, why would he want me? I may not be entirely human, but thats what I was raised as. I’m weird and I don’t conform to your norms and ideals. He has standing and a reputation, I offer him nothing that would better that.”

“That’s not what he cares about.” True looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and waved off her apparently ridiculous worries.

“Oh yeah?” She huffed, slightly miffed that he continued to brush off her worries without actually explaining why. “What gives you that idea?”

He appeared to think for a bit, over exaggerating by crossing his arms and humming in thought. She knew he was about to do something she would regret allowing, but he moved on before she could stop it. “Oh, you know, probably has something to do with the fact that he’s said things about you to me already.”

Her head shot up, looking at him incredulously. “He talks about me? Well, I mean I guess he would. I am living in his home.”

Tutting at her, he waggled his finger and smirked in her direction. “No, no. You don’t understand. He talks about you a lot. Oh, how did he word that one thing he said the other day? I think it went something like... ‘Oh! True is just so wonderful! Amazing! I don’t know how I got so lucky, finding her first.’”

She stared at him, frozen in astonishment at what he was doing. His voice had pitched upward, the gravel gone from his deep voice as he mocked the way Splendor’s tenor would sound. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Why ever would I kid about this!?” His hand flew to his chest, acting offended that she would accuse him of such behavior. “I am simply telling you of the time he said things such as ‘I just think she’s very cute, with her glasses and such pretty hair.’”

His voice pitched upward again, mocking Splendor again as his hands interlaced and he held them up to his face like the love sick saps in old cartoons, making her jump to Splendors defense. “Shut up, he doesn’t sound like that!”

He laughed, dismissing her rebuttal gently with a wave of his hand. “Oh yeah? Then what does he sound like, huh?”

“His voice is nice! It’s light and it almost always sounds so happy. Sometimes it makes me smile to hear it, even if it’s not me he’s talking to. And he calls me little nicknames sometimes, which is the only reason I gave him a nickname too, not that he knows that. He’s soft and careful and kind. He’s very patient with me, and it’s not just me either, he’s patient with his proxies too. And when he laughs, oh it’s wonderful, I work so hard to hear him laugh, to get him laughing because of me. And… well, his eyes are pretty. I know, they don’t have any color, but the way his eyes are is kind of like... if I look in them just right, then its like stars in a sky of darkness. I’ve only seen his hands maybe once or twice, and I think he probably hides them because of how scary he thinks they are, but I think they’re wonderful. Holdable. Kissable. They’re very pretty, and I can only assume the color tapers off, which must be wonderful to look at. I hope to one day get a chance to look at it myself. And I really like-“Her eyes widened as she slapped her hand over her mouth, whipping her gaze toward Offender who was looking down at her with a cocky grin.

“Got ya to talk, did I?” He chuckled at her. Patting her head as she processed her little splurge of simpery for Splendor. “You might as well keep going, little buddy. Better yet, write him a letter.”

She exhales heavily, crossing her arms and turning her head away from him. “Not that its any of your damn business, but I actually have. He will never, ever see them though. End of discussion. And now that I’ve divulged my feelings for Splendor at your demand, can we please watch the movie?”

The silence that followed was telling. He wasn’t done. No where close to it, in fact. She fought herself to keep her eyes locked to the screen, watching as a guy on screen jumped off of a cliff and into an ocean. She wasn’t sure where the movie was shot, but the waters were very pretty as they crashed against the rock face. Of course, the scene didn’t last very long, leaving her confused about the fate of the man. Though it seemed she wouldn’t find out what happened at all. No sooner than she had let her guard down had Fen appeared in front of the tv with some papers in his hands, making her jump at his sudden appearance, as she thought he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Must you always pop in and out like that? By the way, you make a horrible window. We’re supposed to be watching a movie, remember?” She rolled her eyes before eyeing him closely. Taking a look at the papers in his hands, her eyes popped open wide in recognition. “No.”

His smile was answer enough, but he gave one anyway. “Oh, yes. They were quite easy to find actually.”

Shooting up off the couch, she tried to snatch the papers out of his hands before he could hold them any higher, but it was a losing battle as always with most enderbeings. Hopelessly tall while she was hopelessly short.

“Come on, please? You don’t need to read those, I promise they’re no good. Just the rambling of me at three am every day.” She poked and prodded at him desperately as she begged him to give her the papers back. She didn’t know how he had found them so easily, or even how he teleported to her room without alerting anyone to his presence, but she knew those were the letters to Splendor.

He remained silent as he seemed to skim over three of the letters. He took his sweet time, nudging her away with his leg if she managed to distract him too much, but he never looked away from the papers. She was thankful he wasn’t doing a live reading of it while mocking her voice, but this was still embarrassing regardless.

Finishing up the last letter, he merely folded it back into thirds and slotted it back into its envelope and handing her the whole stack with a large grin on his face. “Now that is what I’m talking about. You should just hand those to him, and while I admit staying still would be the most courageous and correct thing to do, you could always just toss them at him and run. Gets the confession out of the way.”

Indignant and fuming, she hugged the letters to her chest and glared up at Fen. “But I don’t know how he’ll take it. I mean… are the letters really okay? Could I really just give him these and expect it to be okay? What if-“

She gets cut off as he groans, dragging a hand down his face in obvious exasperation. “Honestly, you two are just insufferable. I can’t stand this for much longer. Look okay, if you don’t confess then I’ll act as your little birdy and let a certain someone know that a special someone loves them very much.”

The idea was terrifying, and as serious as he looked, she wanted to think he was joking. “He has no reason to like me. He’s so much older than me, not to mention more capable of things as well. I’m…. very human. I’m weak compared to all of you, and I mean… reading intent means nothing if I cant do anything about what they intend to do. I can’t just walk up to him and think a confession will go over well. I have no reason to think he could like me.”

She jolts when he flicks her forehead. Its nowhere near as hard as it could have been, but she yelps and covers the spot with her hand. She startles when he kneels down to her height suddenly and grabs her shoulder. “I don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to fucking say this True, but he doesn’t care about that shit. Never has. All of this,” he shakes the letters in his free hand. “You don’t need to say any of this. I know you think words are scary, so let me help you, okay?”

She took a moment to glance at the letters that would never be delivered. The pretty paper she had written them on bright and colorful and unavoidable. She should have just written them on white paper, then he likely wouldn’t have found them as quickly, if at all. “As long as you’re telling the truth, then I guess I’ll listen.”

He muttered what sounded like praises to the ceiling above him as he stood and led her back to the couch. “Good, now all you have to do is a few simple things, and I promise you’ll make him the happiest man alive.”

————————————

It was now a week later, and she found herself sitting on Splendor’s couch as he started up a movie. Movie nights happened once or twice a month, Splendor’s candy business getting rather time consuming lately, with paperwork and other things she really didn’t understand.

She hadn’t been taught much about his business, but she knew he was very successful and she really liked his products. He had gifted her test products before and had let her sample things before they went out. After having dragged her birthday out of her, he had even gifted her a basket of stuff that she had yet to get through even though it had been quite a while since her birthday.

“You haven’t seen this one before I think. It’s a bit old, in terms of what I’m sure you’re used to watching, but it’s in color.” He laughed as he sat next to her. Getting comfortable in the blankets that were piled around the two of them.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She watched him nuzzle into the blankets before he handed her the bucket of popcorn to hold. She stuttered over herself as she remembered what she needed to do now that they were here. “Besides… I’m with you, right? Can’t be too bad if you picked it out.”

He took her statement at face value it seemed, and softly hummed before patting her head and hitting play on the remote. For a moment she thought maybe Fen really was wrong and Splendor didn’t like her that way. But just as she was about to zone out while staring at the screen to remove herself into her thoughts, she felt something wrap around her under the blankets.

She stayed still as it did, knowing it was one of his tendrils. She took a minute to enjoy it, waiting for the movie to become a little interesting before leaning against his side. She fought to stay casual when she felt eyes on her, not wanting to appear tense. Next would come the hardest part, but she supposed it was only difficult because she understood the meaning behind such a gesture now.

We she felt him relax again, and she was sure he was watching the movie instead of her, she moved one of her hands through the blankets in search of his tendril. Finding it had somehow wrapped around her under all the blankets and had managed to stay outside of her shirt. Regardless of his mastery with the appendage, she set her mind back on track as she lightly grazed her fingertips over it while in search of the tip.

She found the bell with little trouble and grabbed just under it before bringing it up through the blankets and toward her face. She didn’t dare look up at him, she already knew he was watching her. Fighting through the blush rising on her face and the butterflies tearing through her body that made her jittery and nervous, she brought the bell up for a little smooch.

The near moment her lips disconnected from the bell, she felt herself get pushed gently against the back of the couch and he suddenly had a soft grip on her chin, tilting her head back to make her look up at him. His cheeks were more flushed than normal, his eyes locked on hers as he stared her down while seemingly taking a moment to think on what to say. “Do you mean it?”

Did she mean it? She doesn’t understand how she couldn’t. It would be hard for that to be a mistake, and honestly if it hadn’t of been for Fen’s help then she wouldn’t have even known to do it. “Yes.”

She yelped suddenly when she found herself pulled onto his lap. Blankets tangled around her body acting as annoyances when she discovered she was practically bound by them. Regardless, she couldn’t get away if she wanted to. The tendril wrapped around her ensured that.

“If you’re sure you know what it means.” His face hovered closer to hers, his eyes searching her face for any doubts.

“Yes. I… liked you for a while now. I accept.” Her hands found a comfortable resting spot as her arms rested over his shoulders, only bringing them closer.

Silence ruled for a moment before she felt a hand tangle in her hair. The distance closed rather quickly, despite the softness on the kiss. It was a gentle, loving and warm kiss. Conveying finally being able to do what he had been longing to do for a while.

She was struck stupid when they finally parted, gently panting to catch her breath as her glassy eyes met his again. Letting out a muffled noise of surprise, she barely had time to catch her breath at all before he went in for another kiss. This one a little more desperate than the last. His tongue teasing along her lips until she allowed him to deepen it in her shock.

Shaking and desperate for oxygen, her brain went fuzzy and she moaned at the current assault her emotions had on her body. Light, fuzzy and warm. The feel of his lips on hers and his tongue exploring her mouth was something she hadn’t dared to think about before, but it was mind consuming.

She struggled not to embarrass herself when they separated by leaning back in for more. Finding him a little starstruck while looking down at her. Softly panting while she was near gasping for air. “Well then… uh… this makes us significant others. Yes. Right.”

He chuckled at her, moving his hand to instead begin combing through her hair, watching fondly as it made her melt against him and attempt to lean into his touch. “It makes us mates, schatz. Of course, were not mated, but that can come later. Much later, if you’d prefer. However it works out.”

She hummed, relaxing against his chest as he played with her hair. The movie still playing the background of little interest to either of them anymore. His next words made her eyes open as she tensed though. “Now, who told you about the tendril thing?”

[laceymorganwrites]

Magnitude chapter 1

Word Count: 1,366

Pairing: Stain x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Dabi moves in across from your Apartment 

A/N: Dabi is Touya Todoroki in this one (imo it wouldn´t make sense if he isn´t by now)

Credit: @itachianddazai was the one who suggested the Reader approaches Dabi

The apartment building harbored all kinds of people and it looked like it too. It was ironic, a sick joke that it was so run down and used like the whores living in it. It was so cold and merciless like the assassins, so broken and abused like the runaways and people in toxic relationships or broken homes. It looked like it would fall apart any minute and just like its inhabitants it begged for it.

Authorities and citizens alike looked away from it like it was a child being abused.

Dabi did not want to be found.

He didn´t understand the other villains who did everything to stand out and be noticed by society, this behavior annoyed him to no end.

Those villains were the kind that got caught early on and then complained about it.

Dabi didn´t want to be a villain per say, he just wanted to get away from his blood-bound family and piece of shit father.

That´s how he ended up in the rotten building where even more rotten people lived.

It took him years to gather enough money, after all he was just a child when he ran away from that forsaken place his siblings still called home.

He thought he´d feel better in his own place, but somehow now that he stepped into the entrance hall that was just as run down as the rest of the building, seriously, the wood creaked so much he thought the floor underneath him would fall apart; the empty feeling inside of him didn´t go away like he wished it would.

He still felt like he didn´t belong, he never did. Rejected from his family, his own body, hell even the streets. He´d always get scared looks and he hated it.

Hated how everyone stared at him, it made him mad. And sometimes it just made him terribly sad.

Was it really that selfish to wish for a loving father and mother? For his siblings treating him like an equal? For him to be cared for, loved and accepted? All he really wanted was a day where he didn´t feel like shit, just one fucking day where he didn´t feel like giving up.

Dabi got his key and walked up the wet, sticky stairs that he refused to look down upon.

His apartment was on the third floor and he could look at a brick wall throughout the only window.

The smell of death lingered in the big room, or maybe it was just him.

He felt even more lost now that he stood in the middle of an empty space that fit his mindset all too well. After walking around a bit he noted following things: his fridge didn´t work, neither did his water or his lights, his bed was more uncomfortable than the ground and there was a hole in the door to the bathroom.

Great. He´d have to fix all of that.

“Hi neighbor! Need some help?” you chirped and came up to him.

You lived here for as long as you could remember, you saw people come and go here and yes, you did help your neighbors move in even in a fucked up place like this.

Dabi just stared at you, frowning.

“I´m good, thanks” he finally said, he was better off on his own, it has always been this way and would stay like this.

You chuckled, knowing the apartment´s malfunctions yourself.

“Alright, suit yourself, but if you need anything, just give me a knock, I´m right across the hallway” you pointed to your apartment door behind you.

He said nothing and you went home.

Home to your boyfriend, Stain, who was already waiting for you with take out he got from his nightly killing spree.

“Something smells good” you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his neck. You noticed that he cleaned his swords and knives and put them in the little container you got for him, it made you smirk to yourself.

“I got your favorite” he held up the bags before pulling you into his lap, holding you in his arm.

You giggled, starting to eat while watching TV.

Never in your life would you have imagined that people like you two, outcasts of society, could have something so peaceful and quiet.

But fuck them, they thought you didn´t deserve it and yet you had it, it was like a middle finger in their faces and you got off on it.

“Thanks, babe” you kissed his cheek to which he only chuckled and pulled you closer.

“Anything for my favorite director...” he purred, this should have been the first red flag.

Yes, you were the one who took all those videos of him, uploaded them, made sure they stayed up and yes, you were the one who came up with the idea to take a stand against today´s hero society.

Only that nobody would take a woman like you seriously.

And fuck, would you come to regret it.

“Hey, you know someone new moved in across from us?” you told him.

“Oh really, and you offered help like the picture perfect neighbor, huh? You´re just too nice sometimes...” he remarked, and not in an admiring way, rather an irritating one. He never liked it when you showed any kindness to anyone else other than him.

That should have been another red flag, but who wouldn´t get sunk in when someone told them they loved them? Because you really thought he did love you.

You did those videos and editing and all the other things in the household for him and he praised you for it barely enough to make you stay.

You bit your inner lip but stayed quiet when it knocked on your door.

“I got it” you stood up sighing and opening your front door to Dabi.

“Hey, so um...how the fuck do I get my lights on? And my fridge to work?” he had his hands in his pockets and looked down in embarrassment.

He hated asking others for help.

“Huh, who the fuck are you?” Stain also came to the door to greet Dabi.

The latter didn´t show any reaction whatsoever to the hero killer, but deep inside his secret admiration and agreement on his views on society and heroes did.

“The name´s Dabi, I just moved in here today and wanted to see how things work around here” no way in fucking hell would he admit that he needed help.

Stain laughed a bit.

“Ah, yeah, the electricity thingy, my girl here can help with that” he laid an arm around you, making you blush.

He was terribly jealous and possessive, yet another red flag you ignored.

“Yup, be right back” you kissed his cheek before leaving with Dabi.

“So, we gotta go to the basement and get you an independent generator. There used to be just one big one for the whole building, but it always crashed, so they store independent ones down there. But they never tell any new move ins. That should settle the electricity situation. And I bet your bed´s hard as rocks too, so there´s this mattress store right down the road that hands out free ones if you ask nicely” you explained and winked at the last bit, making Dabi smirk.

Asking nicely just happened to be one of his strong suits.

“I see” he would never say thank you, like he said, he didn´t depend on anyone.

You led him down the basement to get the generator and then went back to his apartment to set it up for him.

The whole time he just awkwardly stood on the side and stared at you blandly.

“Alright, it should work now!” you smiled at him.

Dabi only nodded: “Okay...” his eyes followed you as you left his apartment, stating that if he needed anything all he had to do was knock.

He stood there for a while longer, asking himself if what he just experienced was kindness, if so it was the first time. It was a weird feeling, you didn´t have to help him, so why did you? It didn´t make sense, now he owed you…

[the-blackholeus]

First Meeting (Dmitri Johannes Petrov X Grigori Olyat)

(A little Oneshot for those old men. I couldn’t get this out of my head so I just wrote it down. Have fun reading^^)

"Alright, recruits! It's time to get into the bus!"

The head of the young man straightened as the harsh voice of the woman reached his ears. His eyes fixated on her figure as she slowly walked by the rows of men and women standing there, backs straight, saluting in front of her. "You are the twirps that chosen to be the next security staff!" she yelled and stopped, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I must say I am surprised! I have seen much better candidates for the job than all of you!"

His lips twitched as the words left her mouth, but the brown-haired man forced himself to stay quiet. 'Control yourself.' he thought and took a deep breath through his nose. 'She's only trying to get to me.'

"Appearance, however, can cloud the judgment. I've been in this business for many years, and I know what I'm talking about!" the general growled and continued to walk. "Your worth will be proven when you arrive at one of the, if not the, strictest prison on this entire planet. The Wall!" The word echoed through the air, and he could see that some of his colleagues shuddered. "The discipline you have encountered until now is like a child's birthday party compared to what will await you there! There is no speaking out of turn for twirps like you! Now is your last chance to run with your tail between your legs! As soon as you enter the bus, there is no escape!"

Her voice got darker in the end, and she eyed some of them, especially Grigori. "I guarantee you, some of you won't even last one week." The eyes of the dark-haired man narrowed as she said that, but he stayed silent. He knew that she wanted him to speak out of turn, that he gave her a to turn him down, but he did not. Since he has been here, they've had problems, and she always searched for mistakes in his work, but never found them.

As much as she hated to admit it, Grigori Olyat was one of the best candidates those idiots ever had to offer. He was keen to please his superiors, he always listened to every command and never asked any questions, he was one of the few to use his head before he used his muscles, he was almost perfect, and that made her blood boil.

She waited for him to step back, to run with his tail between his legs, but he remained standing, and soon made his way to the bus that will bring him to his new working place. The probably strictest and most secured prison on this planet.

The drive was tense. The young man was sure he could cut the air with a butter knife if he had one in his pockets. The people were silent, some of them were shaking, probably regretting their choice to get in. He swallowed thickly, leaning back in his seat, turning his head to the window to look at the outside. He watched as they drove up on a small mountain, having trouble with the storm that blew against them. He heard the driver curse in Spanish under his breath before he increased the speed. Finally, the vehicle let them continue their journey. 

They nearly were thrown out of their seat by the force of the push. Grigori growled as he just prevented his face from being slammed onto the cold, hard ground of the gigantic bus, sighing in relief when he leaned back in his seat again. That was close.

Others, however, were not as lucky as he was. He saw how many men and women forced themselves back up, rubbing the aching spots on their bodies with a pained expression on their faces. He had to hold back a grin that was slowly spreading on his face and cleared his throat while turned his head back to the window, but this time, he saw nothing but white.

Damn storm.

He sighed softly and shook his head, closing his eyes, trying his best to relax and fall asleep, knowing that this drive would be longer than expected.

---

Grigori grunted as the bus violently stopped and almost threw him out of his seat again. He rubbed his eyes before he glared at the bus driver, who merely scoffed at him, opening the door so everyone could leave. He stood up and stretched himself a little bit to get the sleep out of his system, grabbing his back before throwing it over his shoulder.

He stepped out of the bus, walking behind the others who were already forming a row. He pulled his thick coat tighter around his muscular body, shivering softly as the cold air hit his skin. Damn, he knew it was chilly up here, but it was way worse than he had expected. Maybe it was a mistake to wear a simple, thin shirt underneath. Suddenly, a loud whistle echoed through the air, and all of the soldiers straightened their backs, including him. He lifted his head to look at the highest balcony, where a few prison-guards stood, weapons tightly in their hands, facing them with the sternest expression he had ever seen on anyone, even his trainer.

Most of them shut up, only a few mumbled to one another as the door leading to the outside slowly opened, a tall, muscular man stepping out. He wore a grey uniform that was mostly hidden behind a thick winter coat, but the black tie had such a strong contrast that it shone through. His skin was much paler than he deemed possible, probably a consequence of being up here, hidden from the sun’s rays.

He also wore a black cap that was hiding his black hair, ending barely above his eyes, hiding them behind the shadows. His visible flesh was covered with thick scars, and his stern face twisted into a slightly annoyed expression. Slowly, he lowered his head, exposing sharp, golden orbs which seemed to glow brightly in the dimly lit area. He cleared his throat before he began to speak in a heavily accented voice, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Hello, dear newcomers! My name is Dmitri Johannes Petrov, and I am the warden of "The Wall”.  I have been in charge for the last twenty years. Since the day I took over, there has been no serious incident or outbreak, and since we are keeping some of the most cunning and notorious criminals here, I only accept the best out of the best.", the man, Dmitri Petrov as Grigori now knew, mentioned with his gloved hand to the hole in the middle of the area where those special cases were probably locked up. "Be sure to encounter discipline you have never felt before! This place is a prison complex and not a playground for you. I will have you under my watch! All of you, and if you make any mistakes, be assured that I will know of it! I wish you all good luck in your first week. You will need it."

Slowly, he turned around, throwing one last look at them, his eyes meeting Grigori's for the split of a second, who had listened exactly to those stern words before, he disappeared out of everyone's sight.

---

A week has passed, and Grigori was one of the few who were doing well so far. Being assigned to an area almost right next to Dmitri's office was hard, but thanks to his training, he managed to keep everything under his control.

The warden kept his promise to keep an eye on them. He saw him at least two or three times a day. He always walked past him, his sharp eyes looking directly at his work to control it before he turned around and left with a "Keep it up". Grigori had to admit that this was kind of creepy, and every time he approached, he got goosebumps.

Just like right now.

He heard the heavy steps of the man behind him and turned around to face him. He wore his usual grey uniform with black gloves and tie, but this time, he had his hair open, and brunette noticed they were just long enough to tie them back into a small ponytail.

"Hello, sir.", he greeted him with a nod and fixated the inmate who decided to cause trouble. "Hello, Grigori. Working as always, I see." The warden sounded pleased, and the younger male felt warmth in his stomach as he heard the tune in his voice. "Yes, of course, sir. What else would I do? You gave me an order, and I complied. Those are the rules of "The Wall" after all." "Yes, they are.", the oldest male spoke and grinned at the inmate, who scowled at him. "I see that everything is alright here. Continue this kind of behavior, Grigori, and I assure you, it won't be long until a big promotion." The young man nodded and just wanted to bring the prisoner to where he belonged, but he oversaw that he somehow managed to get one hand free and got punched straight into his face.

With a grunt, the brown-haired man collided with the floor, one of his hands covering up his now bleeding nose. He opened his eyes, which he had closed as the pain shot through his body, and saw how the man, too, punched Dmitri in his face and shoved him violently against the wall, hard enough to break his skin but not strong enough to send him into unconsciousness. The new prison-guard reacted quickly and swallowed any kind of pain before he jumped his feet and took after him.

As he realized that there was no way that he would manage to catch up with him, Grigori reached into his pockets and pulled out his gun, shooting into the inmate's leg. The man collided on the floor, crying out in agony while the young prison-guard called for help, immediately running over to Dmitri, who was bleeding violently from the back of his skull.

"Is Grigori! I need two first-aid attendants, quick. An inmate and the warden are injured!" He waited until he got a "Roger" in return before he kneeled next to the older man. "Sir, are you alright?" he asked urgently and helped him to his feet, cringing slightly as the other’s nails dug into his skin. "Yeah.", Dmitri forced out of his throat as he leaned against him. "Just...my head hurts. I think I have a concussion." With Grigori's help, he managed to remain standing when the first-aid attendants arrived and helped him. "What happened?" the young woman asked as she carefully covered up the wound on the warden's head.

"An inmate attempted to escape. He punched me in the face and slammed our boss against the wall.", was his short answer, which caused her to turn her head to him, cringing as she saw his nose. "That looks broken.", she told him and finished patching her boss up before she walked over to him. "I need to get both of you to the medical station. I don't like how your nose looks." The young prison-guard huffed but nodded and helped her to support his boss with walking.

One day passed, and Grigori was back in duty.

The inmate who had tried to escape had been punished and now sat in a cell with maximum security. The warden's guess was correct, and he now laid in the medical station with a severe concussion. With his absence, the tension in the prison's halls disappeared, and the guards who had been silent began to talk with one another, a fact that let his blood boil in anger. How could those morons be so calm and happy when their boss was in the medical station, suffering from constant headaches and nausea? Many told him that they were glad that they wouldn't have to encounter him for a little while, that they could finally relax and don't have to fear his sudden appearance.

"Grigori!"

The young prison-guard flinched violently as the sudden voice echoed through the air, ripping him away from his thoughts, and he turned his head towards the woman that was walking towards him. "Yes?" "The warden requires your presence in the medical station.", she told him and pushed him into the direction they needed to go. Knowing he would get in trouble for not listening to her command, he went with her and soon was lead to the door that was hiding a whole area of professional healer and punch of injured prison-guards. The woman nodded at him one last time before she continued to walk down the hall, leaving him standing.

He sighed and shook his head before he entered, walking straight for the chief doctor, who immediately recognized him. "There you are.", he spoke as Grigori stopped right in front of him. "He's already waiting for you. You either did something really dumb or something incredible."

Confused by those words, the young prison-guard asked what he meant as he was shown to the door his boss was behind. "He never would let anyone that is not a nurse or a doctor come near him when he is so vulnerable unless it's something that cannot wait until his recovery, and you can say that you’re the first man that is not from the medical staff to see our warden injured, ever. You can be proud or disappointed in yourself." Grigori merely hummed before he pushed the door open, entering the room as quietly as he could. He immediately spotted the older man lying in his bed, a book in his lab, his sharp eyes already fixated on him.

"I thought you would never come.", Dmitri grunted as he forced himself to sit up, holding his aching forehead while doing so. "I'm sorry but had to be lead here. I don’t know these walls very well yet.", the younger male apologized and waited for permission to take a seat, which he got with a short nod. "You surely remembered what happened yesterday.", his boss asked and scowled, showing his teeth.

"This incident is not only embarrassing for myself, but also a shame to the "Wall". But I have to admit your performance was exceptional. Your quick reaction was one of the reasons why the inmate was caught so quickly, and I have to say, I'm impressed. You did well, and I want to give you a promotion.” Grigori blinked, his eyes widening in surprise as the words echoed through his head. “A-a promotion?”, he asked, making sure he hadn’t misheard the words that just left his boss’s lips. “Yes, a promotion. You might only work here for a week, but you’ve already proven your worth more than many others in years. You are not only talented, but also smart and you know what to say and what to do if there is an emergency.” The older man began to grin. “Continue like this, and you certainly will become my right hand man.”

Shock was the only emotion the young man felt right now. His eyes were almost popping out of his skull and he would have remained sitting there for hours if it wouldn’t have been for the “Back to work now.”. Grigori nodded his head and stood up with a small “Thank you, sir” before he left the room, feeling so much pride bloom his chest that he could burst right here and now.

---

“The new recruits have arrived.”

Dmitri looked up from his computer as the voice of his right hand man echoed through the room and scowled as he realized what just had been said. Grigori was leaning against the wall, wearing a black coat over his grey uniform and a hat on his head to protect him from the cold wind outside. His right arm was in a cast, still freshly broken from the accident caused by a fleeing inmate. “Great. A new bunch of juveniles that have no idea how to behave.”, the warden growled, showing his teeth…at least those who remained after that girl hit him with a stop sign, which also resulted in a concussion, almost like all those years ago.

“Maybe they won’t be so bad. I was once one of them too, you know.”, he huffed and walked up to him, leaning over the table. “I know, but you’re a piece of gold in a mountain made of dirt. I may remind you that you are one of eight that remained here.”, he growled and rolled his eyes, forcing himself out of his chair.

“Five, three of them died in the escape incident.”, the younger man corrected him, earning a sharp glare. “Fine then, five. Makes it even worse.”, he hissed at him and stood up, stretching his back. “Well, better than no one at all, right?”, he asked softly and walked up to him, pulling him down for a short peck on his lips. At this, the old man smiled, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Yes, you’re right.”, he muttered and pressed his lips against his. The kiss lingered for quite a while, and the younger man panted heavily as he pulled back, his healthy arm wrapped tightly around Dmitri’s shoulder. He leaned against him, trying to catch his breath while a smile spread on his face as he felt his lover relax a little bit. He looked so much more handsome if his face was not twisted into this almost evil expression he always had.

“Now, grab your coat. I think that they’re already waiting for you. The faster you introduce yourself, the sooner we get back, and the sooner, we can spend time together.”, Grigori whispered and stole one last kiss before he turned around, giving his lover a smug grin and a wiggle with his eyebrows before he disappeared out of the door. The warden could not help but grin at those words, grabbing his coat almost too fast for the eye to see, following the around twenty years younger man out, realizing that he was right.

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

ELEVEN: SAFETY

Song: Young Folks - The Wind and The Wave

Reporters clamored around the entrance to UA, pushing almost every student that came in to answer questions. While a lot of the reporters were caught up with the other students, Kaida used that to her advantage, slipping through the crowd with her head down. She practically ran past everyone to get inside. She hated the press with a fiery passion. They did nothing but put words in people's mouths, and twist the truth. And she could see by the look on their teachers face, that Mr. Aizawa felt the same. He practically shooed the reporters away as he walked inside, Kaida in front of him as they walked. She was trying to make sure they didn't catch too many of her classmates. Finally up in the classroom, Kaida hummed to herself as she watched the students find their seats, with Aizawa soon entering the room. He was probably out talking to the principle.

    "Decent work on yesterday's combat training, you guys. I saw the video feeds and went over each of your team's results. Bakugo. You're talented. So don't sulk like a child about your loss, okay?" She could hear the boy in question simply huff in response. "And Midoriya. I see the only way you won the match was by messing up your arm again. Work harder. And don't give me the excuse that you don't have control over your quirk. That line's already getting old. You can't keep breaking your body while training here. But your Quirk will be really useful if you can get a handle on it." Kaida was sure that that was the first time that he had actually really complimented the boy. "So, show a little urgency, huh?"

    "And Hiyama." Kaida flinched as she hesitantly rose her eyes to those of her teachers, instantly regretting it. "Not only did you attack a student, you skipped out on combat training. Something that would really be useful for you. While I get that you were trying to protect Midoriya, it wasn't your place and was completely unnecessary. That being said, I want at least a four page essay explaining why you did what you did on my desk tomorrow, and a proper apology to Bakugo and All Might for disrupting class." She bowed her head, nodding quickly.

    "Y-yes, sir!"

    "Let's get down to business. Our first task will decide your future." Kaida held her breath. She was lucky she didn't get detention, but another task to determine if they're still worthy to be here? "You all need to pick a class representative." Oh, good. Just normal school stuff! Kirishima immediately started trying to get people to pick him, followed by Kaminari and the purple haired girl, Jiro. Aoyama also joined, Mina right after, even little grape boy. She was surprised that Bakugo wanted it as bad as he did.

    "Silence, everyone, please!" Iida bellowed, shutting everyone down. "The class representative's duty is to lead others. That's not something just anyone can do. You must first have the trust of every student in the classroom. Therefore, the most logical way to fill this position is democratically. We will hold an election to choose our leader!"

    "It's pretty obvious you want us to vote for you." Kaida simply rolled her eyes. Isn't it obvious who should be the representative though? Iida really knows what he's doing, she didn't understand why it should be up for debate. Of course, everyone's arguments were true in statement, saying that most people would vote for themselves.

    "Most people will. But that means whoever does receive multiple votes must truly be the most suitable person for the job. It's the best way, right, sir?" He looked over to Aizawa, who was zipping himself up into his sleeping bag.

    "Do what you want, just decide before my nap's over." Some teacher.

                                                                                                    *

    Soon the election results were in. And Midoriya and Yaoyorozu were at the top. Midoriya with three votes, and Yaoyorozu with two. There was a lot of surprise coming from the green haired boy and the angry blond. Sure, Kaida thought that Iida would be a good fit, but that didn't mean she couldn't just vote for herself. She knew she wouldn't get it anyways. Although, it looked like Iida was pretty upset over the results. They pulled the two top students to the class, Aizawa waking from his nap just to give the results they already knew. Poor Midoriya was shaking away.

    "Alright, the class rep is Midoriya, and our deputy is Yaoyorozu."

    "R-really? Uh. It's not a mistake?" She was sure Izuku was going to explode from nervousness, and everyone was looking at him in confusion. Yaoyorozu just seemed a little annoyed. Everyone started to get behind the idea though. Except the boy who suggested the voting system. Kaida rested her cheek against her hand, watching the exchange. Soon, it was lunch time, and Kirishima and Kaminari stopped by Kaida's desk with their usual grins.

    "Hey, Kai, wanna join us for lunch?" Denki asked, both boys stuffing their hands in their pockets as they waited for the girl to respond. Mina peeked her head around their figures with a smile.

    "Hey, guys! Mind if I join?" The pinkette joined the trio, standing beside them with her hands on her hips. Kai's eyes widened a bit as she looked between them before a smile started to form on her face. Friends. Standing up, the smile only grew as she nodded her head.

    "Sure, let's all go together!" Mina grabbed Kaida's arm, squeezing her close to her as she pulled her out of the room, the boys quickly following with shouts of protest. Hiyama's face exploded into a dark red at Mina's forwardness, looking to the blond for help. Both of the boys just watched with small chuckles coming out, Denki just shook his head, basically telling her she was on her own. She let the girl drag her along, Kaminari and Kirishima walking on either side of them, listening to the conversation they were having. She tried to keep up, giving small inputs, but mostly laughing at their behaviors. She loved how friendly and accepting they were of her, going as far as asking her to join them for lunch.

    Lunch was spent getting to know each other mostly, but finding out that Kirishima and Mina already knew each other from Middle School. Kaida was hesitant to open up but mostly mentioned a little of her family, and how she went to school with Bakugo and Izuku. It started getting more into their hobbies and the things they liked and disliked. It was weird for her. The only other person she told this stuff to was Izuku, but it looked like they were gaining different friend groups, but still being friends since they were in the same class. It was honestly kinda nice having different friends, in her opinion. It showed just how dependent they had become on one another. While Kaida and Denki were watching Mina and Eijiro talk excitedly about something, the two throwing in their two cents every now and again, an alarm bell started ringing. It sent everyone on edge, jumping in surprise.

    "Wh-what's going on?!" Ashido shouted, Hiyama quickly jumping up, along with Kirishima. A robotic announcement came over the intercom, causing the four to exchange worried looks.

    "Warning. Level Three security breach. All students please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion." They gasped, looking around as all of the students started to take off into the halls. Everyone was yelling and screaming in fear, trying to escape the building, while Kaida quickly activated her quirk, wrapping her tails around the other three's waists.

    "Kaida, what are you doing?" Kaminari asked, raising his hands a bit as they stared at her back. The tails had caused her undershirt to come untucked, letting them loose as she moved away from everyone, raising her friends out of the way. They would get trampled at this rate. She quickly led them around the people, using an extra tail to hold onto the rafters away from everyone. It was the only way they wouldn't get trampled. So, when the crowd was mostly gone, she lowered them back down to the ground, dropping herself next to them. "Whoa, thanks Kai!"

    "That could've been a disaster."

    "Look outside, there has to be something everyone's not seeing." She said, the four of them running to the windows.

    "It's just the press!" Mina called out, hands pressed against the glass.

    "Really, that's it?"

                                                                             *

    After the fuss was all over, and they all returned to class, Yaoyorozu stood up, Midoriya following her to the front of the class. Midoriya was back to being a mess over being class rep, but she gave him a quick smile and a nod. He glanced at her after he was done stuttering, taking a small breath. "First, there's something that I wanna say. I've thought a lot about this. And I think Tenya Iida should be our class rep! He was able to capture everyone's attention and get us in line. So, I believe that he should be the one leading our class from now on!" Kaida looked down as she smiled. Iida was going to get the position anyways, they should've known.

    "Yeah, you know what? If Midoriya vouches for him, I'm good. Plus he was a big help. He totally manned up and took charge, right?" Kirishima chimed in, Kaminari nodding his head in agreement.

    "Yup! Oh! Did you notice he looked like the dude on the emergency exit signs when he was on the wall earlier?" That comment caused the four friends to giggle before Aizawa called it a waste of time. It shut them right up.

    "I don't care who the rep is, just hurry up."

    "If Midoriya is nominating me for this job... then I humbly accept. I pledge to carry out the duties of class rep to the best of my abilities!" Iida stood up, proudly proclaiming. Kirishima gave him a thumbs up.

    "Sounds good, Emergency Exit!" Cue the giggles, with Kaminari joining in. "Emergency Exit Iida! Don't let us down, man!"

                                                                                              *

    It was an ordinary night when she got home, spending a lot of missed time with her family now that they were all back together. Kaida did spend most of the night writing out her essay for Aizawa and writing proper apology letters to All Might and Bakugo. She was nervous to give her letter to Katsuki. Why? Because she was sure he was just going to rip it up in front of her and tell her to get lost. She was prepared for it. Nearly midnight, she as finally finished with the papers, putting them neatly in her folders in her bag. Hardly getting any rest that night, she felt like a zombie in the morning, fueling up on flesh and coffee before she was off to school. She held her folder in her hands, ready to hand the papers in. She had entered the school grounds when she saw him, slouched over and grumpy as usual. She took a deep breath before she sped up her walking. "Katsu! Wait up!" He merely grunted as he slowed down, turning a little. He saw the folder and rolled his eyes.

    "If you have that stupid apology letter, don't bother. S'not like you meant it. Just throw it out." He said, starting to walk again. She huffed and ran to stand in front of him, making him growl. "Get out of my way, Red."

    "Please, you don't have to read it. Just accept it so I can tell Aizawa I gave it to you. That's all I'm asking." She bowed a little as she held out the paper to him. He scoffed, snatching the paper from her, gripping it tightly in his balled fist.

    "Tch, fine, whatever." She let herself finally breathe as he walked away from her, her smiling a little. One target down, two more to go.

    Entering the classroom, she quickly laid her essay on Aizawa's podium, taking her seat as the day commenced. She could see him nod in satisfaction as he skimmed over it. He set it aside as classes began. When training rolled around, everyone seemed pretty pumped up about it. "Today's training will be a little different. You'll have three instructors. Me, All Might, and another faculty member will be keeping tabs on you."

    "Sir! What kinda training is this?" Sero called out, everyone looking to Aizawa for answers. He held out a card.

    "Rescue. You'll be dealing with natural disasters, shipwrecks, stuff like that." He explained.

    "Disasters, huh? Sounds like we're in for a big workout." Kaminari said, Ashido joining in happily. Kirishima seemed pretty excited about it, and some other students joined in.

    "Guys, I'm not finished yet." That shut everyone up for the time being. "What you wear in the exercise is up to you. I know you're excited about costumes... but keep in mind that you haven't gotten used to them yet, and they might limit your abilities. This special training's at an off-campus facility, so we'll be taking a bus to get there. That's all. Start getting ready." Immediately, everyone was up, Kaida was first to grab her case, waiting for Mina so they could walk together to the changing room. They talked, well, Mina talked, Kaida mostly listened, while they got dressed, some of the other girls joining in with how they were going to be doing the rescue training. Soon, they were all gathering outside while they waited for the bus. It wasn't long before Iida was calling them to gather around.

    "Using your student numbers, form two neat lines so we can load the bus efficiently." He shouted, blowing a whistle as he went. Kaida couldn't help but giggle a little bit, Mina laughing along with her. No way anyone was going to do that. They wanted to sit together. Besides, when they boarded, it had a more open layout than they were expecting. Mina promptly called Iida out on needed to chill as they rode along. Kaida ended up seated in between Mina and Kaminari. The mustard blond took that chance to get to know her more. She didn't try to give him too much to work with, and it ended with him calling her a mystery and shooting her a wink. It made her roll her eyes, but her face was slightly pink as she looked away from him, Mina taking her attention now. Of course, the back and forth between the rest of the class and Bakugo caught her attention, causing her to laugh at Kaminari's comment.

    "Y'know, we basically just met you. So, it's kinda telling that we all know your personality is flaming crap mixed with garbage." He shrugged, and it sent Kaida into a small fit of giggles as Bakugo yelled.

    "You're gonna regret the day you applied to this school, you loser...! And stop fucking laughing, Red! I'll kill both of you!" She only stuck out her tongue to anger him more, giggling with Ashido as she joined in, the two teasing him.

    "Hey, hey, we're here. Stop messing around." Aizawa said, standing from his seat. There was a chorus of 'yes sir's as things quieted down a little, everyone looking out the windows to look at the dome like building. As they left the bus, the rescue hero, Thirteen was waiting for them. Thirteen was an amazing hero, and just seeing them in person made her almost as giddy as Midoriya. They were one of her favorite heroes! Entering the dome, she was in awe. It was amazing! There were so many areas to simulate rescue operations, to train in environments you're not used to. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked around, a big grin forming on her face.

    "A shipwreck. A landslide. A fire. A windstorm. Et cetera-- I created this training facility to prepare you to deal with different types of disasters. I call it the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. But, you can call it, USJ!"

    "Hey, shouldn't All Might be here already? Lemme guess, he booked an interview instead." A smartass comment came from Aizawa, questioning All Might's whereabouts. Thirteen closed in and said something but she couldn't hear them. She was too busy in awe. Aizawa turned back around to face the group. "The clock's ticking. We should get started."

    "Excellent! Before we begin, let me just say one thing. Well, maybe two things. Possibly three, four, or five..- Listen carefully. I'm sure you're aware that I have a powerful Quirk. It's called Black Hole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust." They explained. Midoriya quickly chimed in as Uraraka bounced beside him.

    "Yeah, you've used Black Hole to save people from all kinds of disasters before, haven't you?"

    "That's true, but my Quirk could also be very easily used to kill." Kaida flinched as it reminded herself of her own quirk. "Some of you also have powers that can be dangerous." She felt as though Thirteen was looking right at her. Of course, all of the faculty members knew about the drawbacks of Hiyama's quirk. "In our superhuman society, all Quirks are certified and stringently regulated, so we often overlook how unsafe they can actually be. Please don't forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly. Even if you're trying to do something virtuous like rescue someone." The girl put her head down. "Thanks to Aizawa;s fitness tests, you have a solid idea of your Quirk's potential. And because of All Might's combat training, you likely experienced how dangerous your powers can be when used against other people. Carry those lessons over to this class. Today, you're going to learn how to use your Quirks to save people's lives. You won't be using your powers to attack enemies or each other, only to help. After all, that's what being a hero is all about. Ensuring the safety of others. That's all I have to say. Thank you so much for listening." As they finished talking, they bowed, the class erupting into a cheer for them. Kaida even clapped a little bit.

    "Right. Now that that's over..." Aizawa started, before electricity started to crackle through the buildings lights, the fountain in the middle of the dome sputtering before it looked like it started a type of swirling motion. A purple vortex was taking over in front of it, Kaida stepping forward as Aizawa began to turn around, realizing that something just wasn't right. The purple vortex erupted across the ground, and they could see a hand starting to reach out of it.

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[robbyrobinson]

Family Diner

(Alternate reality take on the series that may or may not have some invoking of the Old Gods.)

Working for Fazbear Entertainment was a thankless endeavor. A franchise dedicated to making the most in terms of children's entertainment. I remember when the establishment was struggling and was practically dead on arrival. I was assigned to work for a branch of the company called Fredbear's Family Diner, a family-oriented establishment. Business was down in comparison to their rivals and reviews further sunk the chances of parents taking their rowdy children to any of their branches.

But what kept it afloat was two men: Henry and one William Afton. Afton came off as being a crude replication of a man. He was of a sickly thin stature with his purple business suit barely clinging onto his body. His eyes were sunken in and possessed a yellow hue. When I somehow got wrapped up in his business, he shook my hand. He had the most skeletal, papery skin around his fingers. He smiled at me, but his smile was disconcerting as well. It was artificially made like a mask and seemingly rubbery in texture. His low husky voice did little to match up with his lips' movement.

"It is a pleasure to see that you have decided to join our goal."

I mustered up as much of a smile that I could, but I could not deny that I felt intimidated already. At least his business partner was more affable. He was leagues above Mr. Afton in terms of physical appearance. He had a healthy skin color, a peachy one, and a brown beard. He was already thinning on the top of his head that he often hid away with a top hat. He wore a blue business uniform and was more on the plump side of the spectrum then Afton could attest to.

"We are somewhat falling short of quality, I admit to that," Henry confesses, "but I will give it my best to make sure you do not regret working for us."

Henry showed me the ropes of the establishment while Afton tended to seclude himself in his room for the remainder of the day. Sometimes he would disappear in the middle of conversing with me, Henry, or any of his employees. Each time, he trudged to his office and slammed the door loudly as if not wanting anyone to become aware of what he was doing in secret. Sometimes I managed to catch a glimpse of some glowing, luminescent orbs floating without direction in his office before he slammed the door shut.

Before long, Henry introduced me to early iterations of the franchise's animatronics. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie to be exact. Long before the likes of Freddy Fazbear, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy the Pirate, there were two animatronics. These animatronics were oddly high-tech for their time with the Spring Bonnie animatronic in particular also doubling as a suit. Despite them being technological marvels, they lacked a certain flair. They were devoid of personality or charm. Children were less likely to fawn over them as frankly they came off as being creepy robots. Naturally, they were, but some children could at least look past that issue and accept them as their friends. Henry noticed me looking at the two animatronics one early morning, understanding what I was thinking without me having to tell him.

"I know it isn't much, but kids will love them if you are willing to give them a chance."

A ludicrous proposal, but I did try to become more invested with the animatronics. But their hollow eyes and endoskeletons clouded any good feelings I may have had for the robots. I did feel somewhat bad for Henry, but I would not lie to myself that there was inherently nothing appealing about Fredbear or Spring Bonnie. The franchise was now verging on full scale closure and if it did not shape up, the business would be shut down and the employees would be without a job. Henry and Afton had to do something. Fast.

But my god if it did not come with a cost.

Time passed and at the beginning of the month, a child went missing. The authorities were notified of the disappearance and during our regular scheduling, they stormed the diner and went to speak with the owners. Henry was charitable as always and spoke calmly with the police. According to their discussion, it was an 8-year-old, porky boy who disappeared during the open hours of the establishment being seen with Spring Bonnie. I stood by listening to the conversation. At the corner of my eye, I caught Afton edging further away from the authorities and this time opening a door to the backroom of the diner and slamming it behind him.

An utter nightmare of a day that was, but I made the most of it and headed home only to return the next day. I had quite the shock; Spring Bonnie and Fredbear appeared livelier and more active. They had a glint in their eyes that sparkled. I would even swear that I saw them blink a few times. Henry approached me, with a full smile on his face. "Told you it would be a matter of time, but the kids now can't have enough of the two!"

I smiled back. Well, I could not deny it: whatever happened proved to be beneficial for the diner. However, Mr. Afton noticeably stayed longer in his office hardly ever leaving to discuss any recent developments with any of our staff. The few times he had temporarily left his office, I noticed that his skin became progressively paler almost matching his business suit's coloration. He was becoming more of a walking corpse each passing day then when I first became employed at the diner. But I did initially shake that observation out of my mind instead attributing that to disease. Mr. Afton was a sickly man, after all. It maybe could be easily explained away that he was most likely suffering some type of illness, perhaps of a hereditary variety.

Business was booming at a greater rate than ever before. Birthday parties were being held at the diner. Reservations were filled. Everything was going well. At least until one day that is. On one of our less busy days, Henry took me to the side. He was sterner and more serious than usual. "What is it sir?" I asked in genuine curiosity. I almost sensed the dread in his voice. Was it that I was going to be laid off now? I have been representing the establishment for about two months now.

"My son is coming to have a birthday party tomorrow."

"Oh, a birthday party for your son?" Henry did often mention in passing to having a daughter. This was probably the first time I have heard him having a son. But it made sense with what he said next.

"My boy…is greatly terrified of the animatronics. It is a rather odd dilemma. He used to really love the animatronics at least until his older brother started to terrorize him by dressing up as one from one of our owned pizzeria chains. Humorously, he keeps his plush animals around. As you can probably tell, he is greatly important to me hence why I keep him under surveillance numerously. Sometimes at the diner. Sometimes at home by installing a tracking device inside of his stuffed Fredbear doll."

That was unsettling, but I could easily tell that he was fiercely devoted to his son. So, I listened tentatively to what he was saying. I was to keep watch over his son while his party was underway. Pretty simple I first thought. On that day, I sat to the side watching the young boy. He and his sister and mother sat far away to the near back of the diner away from the prying eyes of the animatronics. It pained me seeing a young child like that be so frightful of the two-animatronics stationed in the diner, but he slowly began to enjoy himself in other ways.

But with anything what started off as harmless fun devolved into urgency and mass hysteria. When the boy's mother slipped from her seat to go to the restroom, the boy's brother arrived at the diner wearing a Foxy mask along with his hooligan friends. The boy's fears started to kick in with his breathing becoming more frantic. I called out to the boys demanding that they cease their behavior, but I was met with only the mocking laughing of the boy's brother and friends. They scooped the crying child into their grubby hands and walked in the direction of Fredbear. The boy's screaming rung through the diner. I nearly could not listen to it with it being that pained and frantic.

"Why not give Fredbear a big kiss?" the brother asked.

Despite his younger brother's protests, the brother placed his head into Fredbear's open maw. Fredbear's maw moved in an up and down fashion, sluggishly moving. They all laughed at the boy's utter humiliation and fear.

Crunch.

The laughter stopped as quickly as it began. The boy suddenly became limp and lifeless. Blood trickling down Fredbear's furry cheeks. Upon closer inspection, the force exerted by the animatronics' jaws caved in the boy's skull. Blood was everywhere. I never heard so fierce a scream ever and I hope to whatever ethereal being that was out there in the cosmos that I never would again.

I scrambled to get to the diner's work phone and dialed 911. "Yes, we have an emergency on our hands. Our address?"

Henry was in an obviously distraught mood with the whole thing. He was greatly devastated by the freak accident. He reacted harshly to his older son dismissive of him trying to apologize. Even when he was being taken away to be interrogated. He was a broken man in all but his sanity. Mr. Afton was in his office again, per usual, but he left it upon hearing all the commotion. He approached Henry with curiosity. When he was given the rundown on what happened, Mr. Afton tapped his shoulders. His skin was becoming purple, as if it were decomposing. His eyes were stretched wide.

"Do not worry, old friend, we will put him back together."

The hell kind of ominous statement was that? Henry looked Mr. Afton over suspiciously and alarmed at what he was saying. Without needing to say anything more, Henry pried his hand off his shoulder. Afton shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the backroom to resume whatever he was doing. The diner shut down for a good week or so until the disappearances resumed.

Everything was picking up for the diner. Much of that had to go with how well-received Spring Bonnie and Fredbear were. As I have said, they were once devoid of much expression and personality, but through whatever means, business was flourishing. At least until that incident involving Henry’s son. It felt like a fever dream with how rapid it was in its action. Since then, Henry acted more embittered. He kept up the image of being affable, but he nevertheless became colder to me and the staff. But Afton’s insistence that he would help put Henry’s son “back together” still lingered in my mind. His son was in critical care; how could Mr. Afton even begin to believe that he could put his friend’s son back together as if he were a broken vase.

 But ever since that 8-year-old boy went missing, seemingly disappearing in thin air, more children around the diner began to fade into the shadows. A young girl with green eyes and blonde hair was last reported mourning her deceased puppy dog. Around that time, the Spring Bonnie animatronic was mysteriously missing. I remember Mr. Afton detailing the exact specific functions of the Spring Bonnie animatronic saying that it was specifically designed to be worn by an employee; he called it a springlock suit. The suit itself was called such because of its springs and wiring that could be…well, for lack of a better word, locked away. But he warned me that if any moisture got into it…he represented the situation by balling a scrap of paper between his hands. Accidentally touching the springs or breathing on them also proved to have deadly consequences. Why in good faith would Mr. Afton even think that it was a good idea? It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Oy, this company.

 But more bizarre than that was how Mr. Afton began to ramble odd remarks about…gods? If he were a religious man, that would be fine, but he would keep talking about odd anomalies and how at one time, they ruled over the world long before mankind took its first few baby steps. He spoke openly bout his dedication to the gods and how they were the ones behind the success of the franchise. His skin no longer resembled any recognizable skin tone. He became akin to a shriveled grape in the sun. His eyes were so sunken in now, all I could make most of was a thin shade of darkness where the whiteness in his eyes should have been. My staff members were most assuredly disturbed by Mr. Afton’s slow transformation, but he did sense it in the back of his mind. He now spent most of his time either alone in his office or in the backroom only emerging towards closing time. One day when I was about to punch out and call it a night, Mr. Afton took me by the side and smiled at me. Even his gums were purple.

 “I do not know the time of day or the hour, but the gods will return to reclaim this world. I may be dead by that point, but I hope that you will survive to see their return. Yog-Sothoth will open the gates wide and the gods will terry the lands as they have done long before.”

 Years later, I still saw Mr. Afton’s words as being the breaking point for me. Thinking back on it, Mr. Afton was never sane to begin with. He was blessed with the technological know-how, but he had odd manners about himself almost as if he were stark mad. He became obsessed with the aspect of opening the Gate to usher the gods of old back into our plane of existence. Once they arrived, the powers within this planet would be reverted to them, and Yog-Sothoth would drag this rock into the void between worlds where he rules. Outside of time and space itself; outside of the organized world into realms of madness and disorder. Into a realm of decaying, dead planets and faceless gods.

  Within the first week of the month, four more children vanished under mysterious circumstances. With every single instance, the Spring Bonnie suit was absent, suspicions falling on the employees that they were deliberately spiriting the animatronic suit away to use it for nefarious purposes. As the weeks went by, adults lost hope of the original missing children ever being found. An employee was charged for the murders and was sentenced to be executed. Word spread that he was being set up but by whom none could tell or let alone agree.

 Another month passed with the adults and parents giving up on the missing children and accepting that the employee who was accused of the crime was the best they could attain to closure. Spring Bonnie and Fredbear continued to rake in patrons sometimes getting booked for personal reservations. With more money in their pockets, so to speak, more animatronics were gradually introduced to other locations but also fell under the same dilemma resonating with the diner formerly: the animatronics were lifeless. Granted, they were robots so that could be kind of the point. But lifeless in that they were not entertaining. Henry at that time did not take much concern about the other locations due to mourning the loss of his son. That responsibility squarely fell under Mr. Afton. Whenever he left his office, he wore a trench coat to hide his body coloration. He would tend to be gone for days at a time, but once he was done visiting, the animatronics also took on a life of their own and were on the receiving end of a warm reception. The Spring Bonnie suit also followed Afton throughout the different locations.

 Henry and I grew closer to each other due to Afton’s abrupt leaves. He entrusted me with spieling out his frustrations and sorrows and appreciated me as a confidant. I would give my concerns about how Mr. Afton conducted his business and placed it at his feet. Each time, Henry felt the need to explain his co-owner’s oddness away in the most trivial of ways. Afton’s devotion to the gods of old became increasingly problematic and impeded on his side of the business scheme. Yet he kept insisting that the gates will be opened. Sometimes he looked at me almost as if hoping that I would be the one to open the gates.

 Henry’s older son was still away somewhere in a juvenile correctional facility. His surviving daughter was named Charlotte. I had seen her about once or twice. She was the near image of childhood innocence. She treated other kids respectably and was always there to lift their spirits or be the one who would offer their shoulder to lean on. Charlotte was Henry’s pride and joy. Which was why I found what happened to her leagues worse than what befell his son.

 Business began as usual with me taking orders and keeping watch on Fredbear. Without warning, Henry erupted from his office frantically causing the documents in his hands to fall onto the floor in a heap. I tried to intervene and ask him what had happened, but all he could reply was “Charlie, my daughter…”

 Charlie was found dead at one of the pizzerias. From whatever explanation that was readily available, forensics speculated that she was sick from a stomachache and for whatever reason opted to run out of the pizzeria. By the time that happened, an assailant attacked her leaving her in a pool of her own blood. It was raining heavily at the time and some of the blood was already disappearing from the scene. When some of the employees noticed that Charlie was absent from an arranged party, to their shock, they found their surveillance animatronic, nicknamed “The Puppet” by the side of the deceased girl. From their research, they found a green bracelet on the corpse’s wrist that was meant to be a signal for the Puppet to indicate that one of the children were not in the pizzeria. Strangely enough, Charlie’s blood trickled into a puddle with the rainwater and it met up with the animatronic. The Puppet was returned to the backroom under the shared fear that it had malfunctioned. Purple streaks were underneath the Puppet’s eyes. As if it too were weeping.

 Henry’s controlling over the situation worsened. He could not think rationally nor critically. His demeanor changed ultimately with him being dismissive with me and the other employees. He could no longer be trusted with dealing with the diner’s finances. Even just thinking about it was enough to push him into one of his winded tangents about the unfairness of life. Mr. Afton remained behind locked doors during Henry’s mindless dribbles, but he had what I at best could call a demented sense of intrigue at what happened to Charlie. Instead of consoling Henry over his loss, Mr. Afton instead asked questions about the murder and continued to speak on his occultic obsession. It was incredibly distasteful, but I could sense that Afton did at least have a small iota of sympathy for his co-owner’s plight. Maybe to the furthest extent I could give him some leniency was perhaps he was not as monstrous as I imagined him to be. He leaned into Henry’s ear and whispered something. I had not the faintest idea what he could have possibly been saying, but Henry’s eyes lit up. It must have been something about Charlie because his color returned to his skin and the glint returned.

 “Just follow me,” Afton said.

 Without speaking another word, Henry followed his old friend. They walked past his office which was lit again with the light of those glowing orbs. I quietly followed the two men whilst they were none the wiser, and I stopped when they approached the double doors of the backroom. I darted around the corner and remained there until I heard the doors slam shut.

 They were gone for a deafly long time. I had waited for at least two minutes for either two to come out, but it was a fruitless decision. I returned to my station and took more orders. When I got finished with that, my eyes floated over to Spring Bonnie and Fredbear again. They still looked lively as usual. While it came off as less of a surprise, I did notice a few quirks that the animatronics had. They were singing their typical substandard tunes that the children ate up, but the adults reviled as earworms.

 An hour passed when the two men were gone, but I heard the doors open again. A floored Henry emerged from the backroom the color in his skin tone diminishing. He was white as a ghost. He rubbed his eyes in a maddened haze when the smallest light entered them and became near intelligible from whatever Mr. Afton had shown him. He stammered slurred words and grasped his head between his hands. “Souls…remnant…blackness.”

 I ran towards him out of concern. Whatever he had seen had made him into such a psychological mess he barely had any memory of me and his surroundings. He was speaking what amount to anti-intellectual dribble.

 “A mist of darkness swirling and writhing in every which direction. Ropes of tentacles made of ink on top of a drove of primeval legs each innumerable and infinite. Some being that is centuries old undoubtably older than our known universe. Mouths on every orifice of the creature’s abominable form. Rows upon rows of mouths with hideous monstrosities leaping out of the open maws in a maddening frenzy scurrying away from their ‘mother” in fear of getting devoured. Green slime raining down from the open maws, And oh my god, that goat head….”

 Mr. Afton clasped Henry’s shoulder. “You have beheld our source of revenue. One of those elder gods who I have summoned to Earth. I serve her with every fiber of my being. Do you not see that without her we would be no better than the worms beneath our feet?”

 Henry swatted his hand away, “I…need some time to myself.”

 Mr. Afton frowned, but with what little remained of his lips it came off as artificially contrived. “Take all the time you need, old friend. The time is on the essence.”

 He turned away from the madman and momentarily looked at me. I was going to respond, but he immediately turned again and exited through the front door. The time he dedicated to himself evolved into minutes, to hours. To days. To months and finally a whole year.

 He never returned to the diner.

 With Henry's departure, business began to plummet. Without his hand over management of the finances, Fredbear's floundered in reviews with not even the liveliness of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie doing much to turn heads. Henry never went to any of the branches in Fazbear Entertainment. The last I have heard about him; he was still ranting wildly about whatever Mr. Afton had in the backroom. None knew what was behind there for Mr. Afton made even staring at the double doors prohibited. In the backroom of the diner, there came rustling and chillingly low growls. They resembled no such animal on this Earth. They were the sound of freight trains all going in the same direction and forming a massive collision.

Everywhere that Mr. Afton went came the utmost disturbing of news of children going missing in the different sections of the franchise. The Spring Bonnie suit was permanently retired due to Mr. Afton's insistence of using it for personal projects. Mr. Afton no longer resembled a human but an emaciated skeleton whose very bones were a darker shade of purple still. The very fact that he was still able to move around despite there being little fat on his body was a miracle. Or should I call it a curse?

At Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for instance, there was a case of five missing children consisting of three boys and two girls. It was another one of those booked reservations for a birthday party that was being thrown late in the afternoon. Witnesses claim that they were seen going into the backroom being led away from the other screaming children and bustling parents by one of the golden animatronics. What happened next was sketchy: they just…faded away seemingly in thin air. No bodies were ever found. No one noticed that the kids were missing until about four hours later. Mr. Afton was there – wearing his trench coat yet again – looking suspicious as always. He aided the search party anyway he could even placate younger children by voluntarily giving them tickets so they could play in the arcade or giving them pizza slices free of charge. There was never so much protesting from moral guardians before in the history of Fazbear Entertainment and there never would be again. Parents held other parents as being to blame for the Missing Children Incident if it benefitted them regardless of their allegations being factually sound or not. The grand witch hunt led to the families incriminating a security guard as being the guilty party. They ignored his attempts at trying to reason with them and was arrested. Mr. Afton stood by and with what little remained of his mouth, he made a short whistle.

As there were no bodies found at the scene of the crime, the security guard was found guilty of the five children's disappearances and sentenced to five life sentences. To this day, he still insists that not only was he innocent of all charges, but due to the prejudices that were thrown his way, the moral guardians failed to catch the real killer when they had the chance.

Sometime after the whole ordeal, something peculiar befell the animatronics. They began to reek afoul some attributing the scent to unveiling of an ancient crypt. Blood and mucus secreted through the eyes, nose, and mouths of the animatronics. Due to the mass disappearances of children at the pizzerias, surveillance technology was added to the animatronics, here called "Toy Animatronics." They were supposed to be linked to a criminal interface and were "revamped" versions of the original four of Freddy, Foxy, Chica, and Bonnie. There were also the additions of that wretched Balloon Boy and the upper executives remodeled the Puppet they had from the other pizzeria perhaps convinced they could revamp it as well. But they warned that one had to continually wind its music box to keep it at bay. I do not know what it would entail if someone neglected to do so, but I assume whatever is the result, it is not pretty.

Fredbear's Family Diner's days eventually came to a slow, excruciating end. There were massive layoffs and Fredbear was decommissioned and sent to be hollowed out for scrap metal. I could have sworn that I saw Fredbear's eyes move about in a frantic pace and his movements stiffened. It was disheartening to watch. Mr. Afton remained in his office for a long duration of time not interacting with any of his staff or employees. I was the last one left and as I gathered my things, Mr. Afton called out to me again.

"Do you mind staying a little longer?"

"Yes sir, what do you expect from me?" I responded.

"I'm sure you are dying to know what was behind these backdoors," Mr. Afton explained, "since your services are no longer needed here, I feel that now is the appropriate time to reveal my inspiration."

I shrugged my arms. Mr. Afton was becoming more unnerving by the second, but since I had nothing at the time to lose, I decided to humor him this one time. After all, I may as well not be expecting to see him again. He held out a bony finger and flicked it. "Just follow me."

I followed the deranged man like he asked of me and we both disappeared behind the back. I have seen just about everything this franchise had to offer, but I could not mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see.

We made it to the double doors and Mr. Afton held the knob sternly in his hand, fondling it even. "Behold my muse."

He…opened the door. It was like what Henry had mentioned. There in the back was a large creature of indiscernible design. The creature was of a larger scope that my brain began to short circuit from my desperation at trying to comprehend what I was seeing. A swirling mist of darkness and tentacles all on top of goat legs. Smaller creatures leapt out of the maws of the monster and acted abrasively towards each other. A dark paste-like subject was leaking from underneath the dark being that was being gathered through an irrigation system. Tubes and wires led towards a vault where the dark matter was pumped.

"What? What is all this?"

Mr. Afton smiled again. "As you can see, I have been in quite the desperate debacle with trying to keep revenue flowing to the diner. After trying the more legal means of doing so, I became desperate. Henry and I were. So, I did further research and ultimately, I found the answer to my dilemmas. Shub-Niggurath."

Green slime dripped from the many mouths of the Black Goat of the Woods. A hideous creature with even more abominable offspring, Shub-Niggurath a fertility goddess of sorts that was worshiped by many cults. But why…why is Shub-Niggurath in our diner rather than anywhere else? But what caught my eyes was the dark substance being collected into large vaults.

"That my dear boy," Mr. Afton said in a sing-song tune, "is what I call remnant."

Remnant I thought. It was an odd term for whatever…this was. My mind was still trying to wrap around as to why Mr. Afton summoned an Outer God to our plane of existence. "That is what I had been injecting into the animatronics to give them life," he explained.

"How did you do that?" I asked though I plainly did not wish to know. As I finished my thought, I saw something to the side of the room in a small heap. I ran over to it to get a closer look. My mouth was agape with horror. It was clothes of varying sizes discarded with nonchalance. My mind began to comprehend what it all meant, but Mr. Afton gave me the answer anyway.

"It is simple, my boy; children are sacrificed to satiate my goddess' hunger and once that is done, I pillage through the remains of secretion and from there, I harvest remnant. Remnant at its simplest and purest of form are condensed souls of the children."

I wanted to vomit in repulsion, but none came out. What a despicable endeavor. But it explained why Spring Bonnie and Fredbear felt so alive. They were with the melted down souls of any unfortunate child that was lured away and sacrificed. I believe that they were in deep pain and writhing with every wave of pain. My heart went out to those children lost.

"You psycho, how could you kill all these children!?"

Mr. Afton laughed. "They are not truly gone; they live on in various forms some within Shub-Niggurath herself or as the animatronics they love. I am sure you had some favorite character once, correct? Well, I am also positive that you wanted to be them in some way?"

My hands shook. "What of Charlie? Was she also apart of your sick experiments?"

"That one I admit had no real purpose behind it," Mr. Afton confessed, "it was more a happy accident."

He crossed his arms. "If my foolish friend allowed me, I would have put his precious boy back together again. You know that I have the means and resources to do so. Ah, such a tragedy that was."

I had enough of Mr. Afton's callousness I went to turn around, but he grabbed my arm. "Wait, please hear me out before you do anything rash."

"I am done listening to you."

"My time is not promised," Mr. Afton said bluntly, "I have tried to use remnant to make myself immortal, but it had bleached my skin and is poisoning my bloodstream. Please devote the rest of your days to serving my goddess."

I grabbed his hand with my other hand and pried him off. "You have tampered with something unearthly and grave. You can go sleep with the worms for all I care."

Mr. Afton sighed. "Then we have no other reason to speak. I hate it very much."

He made another grab for me and caught me by the collar. There I was being dragged towards one of the many maws of the Black Goat of the Woods. Mr. Afton muttered something beneath his breath maybe some slurred praise to the Outer God. With her acidic breath coming ever closer, I had to think fast. I leaned forward and bit down on Mr. Afton's wrist. He hissed in pain and covered his hand with his other to ease the pain. I scurried to get back up and I punched him squarely in the face. He fell to the ground with a thud. Before he could say anymore, one of Shub-Niggurath's tentacles darted out and grabbed his leg.

"My goddess, wait, do not do this to your faithful servant!"

Mr. Afton was being dragged into the goddess' open mouth and her young took interest in what was happening and came down on Mr. Afton clawing and scratching his face. I was frozen in fear but if I did not leave, Shub-Niggurath would direct her attention towards me. I ran as fast as my legs could take me down the hall ignoring Mr. Afton's screams asking for assistance. My legs were giving out quickly, but I fought for my life.

The foundations of the diner were crumbling from the rapid movement of Shub-Niggurath. By the time I escaped, the ceiling caved in and collapsed in on the walls. When the dust was settled, Fredbear's Family Diner was nothing more than a pile of rubble. Afton and his goddess were buried deep in the debris. I had survived, but at what cost for I was the only one aside from Henry who knew what Afton was really doing.

I tried going about living my daily life, but I am still bothered by Afton's horrific experiments and his attempts of trying to usher in beings potentially worse in their scale from what Shub-Niggurath could attest to. But whatever was out there in the cosmos, I was relieved that at least the apocalypse was averted. But for how long?

[persephonesfill]

My OCs: TYatD

@anarchscry you asked for this very long post so you’ve made your bed, now lay in it. (jk jk i love you)

Osanna Gaza, 17 (on the verge of 18), She, Her, Hers. Osanna is the eldest child of Ivon Gaza (who is a fucking BITCH) and Adelina Gaza (who has never done anything wrong in her life ever). Osanna is the princess of Astoria (one of the kingdoms I created) but she’s not the heir to the throne since Astoria doesn’t practice equal primogeniture. She’s not bitter at all. Really. She has long golden blonde hair, dark blue eyes, tall, lithe stature and fair skin that tans easily (yes that’s relevant to the plot). Osanna is prone to bouts of jealousy and pettiness, especially when she doesn’t get her way. She’s headstrong and as stubborn as an ox, much to her father’s chagrin. It’s a struggle for him to get his daughter to do anything he wants. She isn’t all bad though. Osanna would do anything for her family, especially for her youngest brother, Eden, and isn’t one to balk at confrontation. Osanna is smart, resourceful, and ambitious. All she wants is to be recognized for her mind, which is her greatest strength, and she spends the majority of my book trying to get that recognition. She’s also bi as fuck 🌈🌈 I’m putting the rest under a read more bc holy fuck this got long 

Lani Neda, 17 (on the verge of 18), She, Her, Hers. Lani was orphaned at a very young age. Her parents were found mauled to death in her family home after they refused to let her leave home to attend the school meant for spellcasters secreted away in the mountains of Maras (another kingdom I created). Coincidentally, the caster who came to visit was also the one to pull her from the orphanage and take her to Magai (the school/city for casters) anyway. Totally not related at all. Lani was basically a child soldier, trained in magic, combat, and espionage, and only concerned with protecting the royal family of Maras, especially princess Mai, who’s her closest friend. Lani had short, dark, curling hair, brown skin, and eyes so brown that they appear black. She’s short but well-muscled from her training (and reliable palace meals). Not every orphan is as lucky.  Even when she's not aware of it, Lani carries herself like a soldier; back straight, firm stance and arms at her sides ready to salute or unsheathe her weapon at a moment's notice. Lani is quick on her feet, abrasive, and not the easiest person to get to know. All her life she's had her weaknesses exploited and vowed to never show weakness again. She's intuitive and relies more on instinct rather than logic. She's loyal to a fault and can be absolutely ruthless in battle, holding nothing back. Lani is brave and willing to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. She's serious and seldom jokes around with others. She hates when people don't apply themselves or give up prematurely. She always gives it her all and expects everyone else to do the same. She values hard work, tenacity, and strength. She’s also gay as fuck (for Mai and later Osanna) 🌈🌈.

Aidan Aterra, 18, He, Him, His. Aidan, like Lani, is also an orphan, except he never knew his parents. His caretaker at the orphanage, Dame Mara Finch, or Dead-Eyes as the children called her behind her back for her pale grey eyes, said that he had been left out on the porch of the Foxbrook orphanage in the middle of one the worst blizzards Iskald (another kingdom) had ever seen. His lips had been bluer than death, his skin cold to the touch. She told him that she had contemplated leaving him outside and letting nature continue to run its course but as soon as she had turned around to close the door, the most ghastly wail had burst forth from his lips. He grew up in the orphanage constantly being reminded of her kindness and her generosity, even when he went to bed without supper, or was forced to sleep in the manor’s old dungeons when he misbehaved. When Aidan was ten, he had decided enough was enough and that he was going to run away from the orphanage, making it as far as to the marketplace of their town. Aidan tried to pickpocket a mercenary and ended up following him home instead. The mercenary, and his mercenary company, the Fox Claws, took him in and Aidan was raised in their life of killing, thieving, and the occasional case of vigilante justice. Normally, Aidan is a fun-loving and spontaneous boy who isn’t one to shy away from a party or conversation (only with people he’s let in).  He’s also observant, a trait that has saved his life more times than he can count. However, in extreme situations of distress, such as his childhood at the orphanage and his life after Asher’s disappearance, Aidan withdraws on himself. He’s more prone to risky behavior and uncaring about his wellbeing. He feels a growing numbness inside of his chest and wonders why he should even bother doing anything at all. He also experiences intense regret and self-loathing. He’ll never tell anyone though. Lord knows Dead-Eyes didn’t like criers. All Aidan’s life, he's been met with derision and prejudice due to him being an orphan and likely a bastard. His personality is a result of that. He's sarcastic. Evasive. Shuttered. He puts on a devil-may-care facade to keep others out. Although he can be selfless and kind around children, Aidan is usually self-concerned. He rarely thinks about the consequences of his actions. Some view him as brave for all of the dangerous situations he welcomes with open hands. Others think he's just plain stupid and has a death wish. Aidan always likes to jape that it's a little bit of both. Aidan has black hair that touches the tips of his ears, and strange eyes for an Iskali, who all typically have blue or gray eyes. Aidan's eyes are hazel. Not quite brown. Not quite green. That paired with the olive cast to his skin tone makes him an outsider among the Iskali. After the disappearance and suspected death of his best friend and partner in crime, for which he is the main suspect, all Aidan wants to die is fuck off from the main continent and drink his way into an early grave so he can be with his best friend, Asher, again. He’s also pan as fuck 🌈🌈

Kali Sylva, 16, She, Her, Hers. Kali is the daughter of Alwin Sylva and Tiatha Meimri, and the crown princess of Dererra (another kingdom. you get the idea). Kali is also the sole heir to the throne, due to her being the only child of Alwin and Tiatha. Her very existence is a bit controversial, at least in Dererra. Dererrans are extremely traditional (read: pretentious, prejudiced fucks) and expected for Alwin to marry a Dererran noblewoman. Instead, he married Tiatha, a Khosagho (another kingdom) native. Princess Kali Sylva is a walking contradiction. Quiet, yet opinionated. Shy, yet brave. Sweet, yet fierce. Kali has little confidence in herself and often thinks the worst of others—mainly because they assume the worst of her. Half-breed, they call her. Part Dererran, part Khosaghi. Kali is straightforward and doesn’t much care for silver-tongued folk. She likes to keep to herself and more often than not, prefers the company of animals over humans. She struggles with being from two different worlds and doesn’t feel as if she belongs anywhere. Around friends, Kali can let loose and be herself, and even be playful. With strangers, Kali is reserved and keeps to herself in fear of being reprimanded. Kali is prone to reading into something too much and jumping to conclusions. The only time she feels at peace with herself is when she’s in woodlands of her home with her bow in her hands. Part of her feels as if she doesn’t deserve the throne due to the years of scorn and derision she’s been faced with from other Dererrans. Kali has jet black hair, done in one of the traditional Khosaghi styles, with it being in long, uniform braids. She has smooth dark brown skin, and her father’s bright green eyes. Kali has broad shoulders and strong arms from years of firing a bow and elegant, high cheekbones. 

Cyd Pollock, 15 going on 16, He, Him, His. Cyd is the son of Myra, an innkeeper, and Cyrus Pollock, privateer turned full-blown pirate. For nine years of his life, Cyd never knew his father. It was just him, his mother, and their roadside inn, The Dirty Wolf, and that was all they needed. Everything was fine until a wave of influenza swept through western Masae and his mother, Myra, had fallen ill. Two weeks later, she passed away. Cyd was only nine. His father showed up a week later, stricken by grief, he took in his only son and raised him in the company of pirates, thieves, and murderers. Ever since then, Cyd has had to watch his back. He never knew what his father was like before the death of his mother. He’s only ever known a hard man who was impossible to please. The slightest toe out of line, and Cyd was subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. He learned to keep his mouth shut, don’t ask questions about his father’s “business” and to keep to himself. Cyd keeps to himself. As long as he asks no questions, as long as he doesn’t mouth off, he’s safe. Sometimes in particularly emotional moments he loses control and has a slip of the tongue; a witty comment here, a sarcastic barb there, and he takes the consequences every time. Cyd is very insecure and can’t help but care what people think about him, especially his father and his pirate crew. He hates how much he craves their approval but relishes the rare moments where he’s bestowed with praise. He’s smart though. Smarter than people give him credit. All the years he’s sat in silence, he’s picked up a few tricks from those around him. When he puts his mind to it, he can complete any task with accuracy and fervor. Cyd has wavy sandy hair that falls into his dark brown eyes. Cyd has fair skin and his body is speckled with freckles from spending hours upon hours out in the sun. He has rough, calloused hands from years of pulling and tying sailing ropes and hauling heavy cargo. He has many scars, most along his hands and wrist, although there is one particular scar below his bottom lip from where he had gotten a fish hook stuck in his face as a child. Cyd is relatively short, standing at about 5’9. He hasn’t yet hit his growth spurt. The last vestiges of youth are starting to fade though. The baby fat in his face is starting to melt away and revealing the shadow of a strong jaw. 

[qualquercoisa945]

My Heart’s At The Wheel Now (Part 1)- Today’s A Day Like Any Other

AO3 Link

Title Inspiration: Everything Changes from Waitress

hi so part 2 isn’t written but i have like no impulse control so here we are!!!

trigger warnings: mentions of needles

This had been a terrible idea.

Granted, Catherine was aware of that the moment she’d heard it. Tattoos never seemed like a good idea to her, but everyone else had been quite excited when Kath suggested the idea of matching tattoos to the band, and she’d rather not bring the group down. Besides, she had taken a liking to the idea herself.

Now though, standing there watching as Aragon got hers, she felt a shiver crawl up her spine as anxiety began to settle in her stomach. Her band mate tried to be subtle about it, but Catherine could see the occasional blinks and slight frowns- it hurt.

Not that she didn’t already know that. But the confirmation only added to her nervousness and, dare she say it, fear, for her turn.

Normally, she wasn’t the kind to be scared of new technology, none of them were. Getting the chance to be reborn as children and to grow up in the XX or XXI century was probably the cause of this. Still, she couldn’t help the way her body tensed as she watched from the doorway.

So yes, Catherine Parr wasn’t the biggest fan of tattoos. More specifically, needles. She’d figured that out as a child, due to mandatory vaccination, something she was extremely impressed and grateful for as someone who had to live through a time where there wasn’t even a cure for these diseases. Still, said feelings didn’t ease her nervousness back then, and she couldn’t use them now.

A little after Boleyn’s turn to get hers started, Catherine quietly excused herself from the room, going to stand outside the shop by the doorway. She wasn’t sure just how long she stood there, but she was jostled out of her thoughts by a hand setting on her shoulder.

“Yo, you okay?” She turned around to find none other than Boleyn, looking oddly concerned. “You seemed uncomfortable.” Catherine read her expression, hesitating on whether or not to talk about it, especially with someone like Boleyn. But then again, she knew she needed to open up more to them.

“I don’t like needles.” She explained quietly, staring at the street ahead of herself. “I still want to do this, though. Just… I dunno.” She ended up mumbling, silently cursing herself and her difficulty with expressing herself as she shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Hey, it’s chill.” She looked up as Anne spoke, raising an eyebrow. “Tell you what, I’ll stick by you, and we can rant about whatever. It’ll help get your mind out of it.” Catherine paused as Anne offered, thinking over it.

“Hell, won’t hurt to try.” Anne laughed, lightly wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go. Your turn’s probably soon.”

-----///-----

Later that night, Catherine was jostled out of her daze by heavy footsteps- definitely Cleves’s- coming up the stairs. She blinked as she glanced at the clock she left on her table- 1:24 AM, and yet she’d only heard… four of the queens go to bed?

Catherine was used to staying up until long after the others, but very rarely did she have any company past 1 AM. So when she made the connection, she set her pen down, turning to stand up. She headed downstairs, towards their living room. The large glass door there was still wide open, and Catherine made her way out through it towards the garden.

Near immediately, she spotted Anne, silently sitting on the grass with her knees curled up to her chest, arms folded and resting on top of them with her chin supported by her arms. And for a moment, she didn't know how to react. That was, before Anne spoke up.

“Are you just gonna stand there like a creep?” There was no bite to it, more so a quiet amusement, and Catherine gave her a small smile as she walked over, sitting cross legged beside her.

“Usually I don’t have company this late.” she didn’t elaborate further, and thankfully Anne didn’t ask her to. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, before Anne laid on her back, patting the spot behind her to invite Catherine to join her, before folding her arms over her stomach.

“I miss how many stars there used to be.” Catherine didn’t need to ask her what she meant- the drastic contrast was clear to see in her mind. “Whenever things got too much, I’d wait until it was dark and then head out on my own to just look at them.” She sighed, and Catherine raised an eyebrow at that.

“Lizzie loved them too.” Ah. “Whenever me and Henry argued, which was… a lot, she’d get worked up and I’d take her with me and talk to her about the different constellations.” She paused, smiling sadly, and Catherine would’ve frowned at how drastically her behavior had changed if it weren’t for the subject at hand.

“She was the brightest little girl, you know? Could speak before she turned two, in both French and English.” Catherine could very easily notice the pride in her voice, the same way she could when Anne successfully proved someone wrong, but it was softer this time, it didn’t have the same edge it usually did. She blinked as her train of thought was interrupted by Anne speaking up again. “Ah, but you already knew that. You were really involved in her education, right?”

Catherine nodded, giving her a small nod. “I didn’t take on many students back then- I’m lucky I took on any at all back then. But I must admit, Lizzie was easily the brightest student I ever met, taught by me or not.” She chuckled lightly. “She still loved the stars, even as a teenager. Whenever I’d wake up in the middle of the night and couldn’t find her, I’d go outside and there she’d be, staring at the sky. We’d sit together and she’d talk about them for ages.” She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking at Anne. “Said she used to do it with you. That she didn’t have a lot of memories with you, but of the ones she did have, that was her favorite.”

Anne looked away, then looked back at her with a small smile, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes for a moment before Anne noticed them and hurriedly wiped them away. “You’re a special one, Catherine Parr.” She began softly. “Lizzie got close to you, right? She didn’t do that with anyone but me and some of my ladies in waiting. Not even her own father managed to break that, but you did.”

Catherine smiled softly at that, but it quickly faded as her mind wandered to what he did to her. It happened much too often when she thought of Lizzie, of how they could still had a good relationship had it not been for Catherine’s unwillingness to believe someone she loved would do such a thing. And it cost her heavily. It cost her all she had built up with Lizzie, who she thought of like a daughter.

She was jostled out of her train of thought by Anne speaking up. “Penny for your thoughts, Lady Parr?” They both gave a light chuckle, although it was quite mirthless in Catherine’s case. She sighed, turning her head to look away from Anne.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke, continuing before Anne could reply. “For what happened to her.” The two stayed quiet after that, and then Anne spoke.

“Most of us regret stuff we did, or didn’t, do in our past lives. I regret being the reason Aragon and her Mary got cast out of court, and likewise, Jane regrets being reason me and Lizzie got cast out, or in my case, killed.” Anne sucked in a sharp breath, then continued.

“I was angry about it when I found out, I’ll admit it. But I’ve had enough time to sort my feelings out and accept that a grudge over 500 years long, on something you didn’t even do? That’s not a grudge worth keeping.” She sighed, and Catherine felt a tap on her shoulder, a silent request for her to face Anne. She did, and Anne gave her a small smile. “And from what I’ve read, Lizzie didn’t resent you either. So, Lady Catherine Parr, I think it’s high time you quit blaming yourself over that.”

Catherine scanned her face for any signs of resentment, of hidden meanings she needed to look for, but she found nothing, and slowly, she gave Anne a sheepish smile. “You’re being oddly soft night.” Anne chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re being oddly open. We’re both in rare states.” Catherine laughed softly, then stopped when she heard footsteps from the inside.

“Guys, Cassandra wants to talk to all six of us.” She looked up when she heard Kath’s voice, but only soon enough to watch her walk back inside. She frowned once she’d processed her words- Cassandra rarely called them without having nothing going on, and especially not this late. Anne seemed to have the same thought, because she sat up, looking much more serious than usual. “Something’s definitely up.” Cath nodded, sitting up and moving to stand, but before she could, Anne set a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at her, finding her with her hand held up, showing the tattoo she’d gotten today- a green crown, with five sparkles around her, each one the color of one of the other queens.

Assuming she wanted a high five, Catherine held up her own hand, showing her tattoo (essentially the same, but the crown being blue and one of the sparkles being green), but before they could high five, Anne lightly tapped their wrists together, letting their tattoos touch. Anne grinned, then hopped up and offered her hand.

The pair headed inside and to the kitchen, where the others were all sitting. Kath was at the head of the table, in front of her phone. Anne stayed by the entrance, but Catherine went over to Kath, who she could see was in a video call with Cassandra.

“You said you had some people you wanted us to meet?” Kath spoke, and Cassandra nodded, opening her mouth to answer before looking up when someone off camera talked to her. She nodded, then looked back at Kath and Catherine.

“One of them wants to talk to you, so I’m just gonna pass the phone over to them.” Her hand moved to cover the camera as she passed the phone over, and Catherine and Kath exchanged a curious look. When they looked back at the screen, however, they both froze.

Catherine recognized the girl on the screen, or at least she thought she did. Fiery red hair, gentle brown eyes, freckles spread across her face, and a terribly familiar smirk all tugged right at her heartstrings. Her suspicions (and judging by the girl’s expression, Kath’s as well) were only further cemented when the girl spoke, her smirk turning into an awkward smile. “Hey. Yeah, it’s me.” The pair exchanged a look again, and then spoke the only thing in their minds.

“Lizzie?!”

[daylilysirius]

Arms Unfolding: Year Two

A/N: part two! apologies that this took so long, I just started a new job this week and driving lessons last week so it’s all been pretty hectic so please bare with me as I get used to this new schedule. anyways, thank you for all the love on part one and I hope you enjoy! <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! Reader

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of injury (not graphic)

Word count: 1914

- MASTERLIST IN BIO -

You spent most of the summer at Malfoy Manor with yours and Draco’s families. It transpired that both your mothers got along swimmingly and your fathers always had some work topic that they could discuss.

 You and Draco were practically joined at the hip, whether that was because he actually wanted you around or because you seemed to be the only one of his friends who actually reached out to him you weren’t sure, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. You knew from your classes that he was intelligent and creative but it came out in a different way when you were alone. He didn’t feel the need to impress you, confident in the fact that you liked him even when he was being a prat, so he let his cockiness and arrogance slide.

 Narcissa must have also picked up on you being a good influence for her son as she insisted Lucius take you along when he and Draco went to Diagon Alley for new school supplies. It was there when you finally started to understand why Draco acted the way he did. Around you he was normally bubbly and carefree but with his father around he seemed to retreat into his shell in a way you had never seen before. Lucius seemed to do little other than intimidate his son into submission. He had seemed like a nice enough man until now, a little arrogant sure, but clearly very devoted to his family. Now you weren’t so sure of your opinion on him.

 Things were only made worse when you ran into Harry, Hermione and the Weasley’s whilst in Flourish and Blotts. You begged Draco to leave them be but of course he couldn’t, especially since he had lost some of that confident façade he usually carried around you with his father being here, he needed to feel like top dog again. You shot Harry a sympathetic look as Draco berated him, which he reciprocated, but that only spurred the white-haired boy on more.

 “Why are you looking at her like that, Potter?”

“Draco, please, just leave it. He wasn’t doing anything –”

“Isn’t your little girlfriend here enough?” He interrupted you, pointing at Ginny.

It was at that point that Lucius returned and Draco shut up, not that Mr. Malfoy’s arrival made matters any better. Within minutes he had got into a passive aggressive ‘discussion’ with Arthur Weasley and once again you could merely stand by, embarrassed by the prejudiced argument happening in front of you. You kept shooting Ron and Hermione regretful looks but they just smiled back at you, mouthing “don’t worry about it” or “not your fault.” They really were too good to you.

Thankfully, Arthur and Lucius weren’t sneering at each other for very long. You quickly finished your shopping, Lucius was behaving like nothing had happened but Draco could tell that it had bothered you. As you both trudged back to the manor, a few paces behind his father, Draco began nervously playing with his robes before he finally turned to you.

“Are you angry at me?”

You sighed, “No, Draco, I’m not.”

“… Are you sure?”

His voice was so timid you had to stop yourself from being visibly shocked. Were you angry with him? Yes. He didn’t need to go after Harry, Ron or Hermione like that, but at the same time you felt like you understood his reasoning more now, even if it was completely flawed. He clearly idolized his father, even if he did frighten him some times. To him that behavior was normal, it was all he had been taught. You were stuck in the middle of both sides. You were pureblood, yes, and your grandparents drilled into you about the Sacred 28 from an early age but unlike Draco’s, your parents couldn’t care less. They wanted you to be a kind, loving and happy person first, and a pureblood second. Blood status didn’t matter to them. So, to you the idea of judging someone so harshly just because they weren’t part of a wholly magic family was ridiculous to you.

“I’m upset that you felt the need to go after my friends like that, but I’m not angry with you. You stated.

Draco nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Okay.”

You continued walking in silence until you reached his front door. It was clear you weren’t going to get an apology and you couldn’t deal with his moping for any longer.

“C’mon,” You said cheerily, “Let’s go finish that game of wizards chess, I’m one move away from kicking your arse.”

“I’ll race you.” He grinned as you both made a dash for the stairs.

You had barely spoken to Draco in weeks.

It was different to the way you avoided the discussion about the forest the year before, or the silence on your walk back from Diagon Alley in the summer, this was Draco desperately trying to get your attention and you rebuffing every effort. This was more serious.

He had called Hermione a mudblood. You knew that they didn’t get along but this was entirely too far. The worst part was he didn’t understand why you were so upset. Sure, he knew it was a harsh statement, but with his teenage naivety and prejudiced upbringing he couldn’t get his head around why you were so defensive of her. You were a pureblood too, just like him, surely you should’ve shared his views? But as you sat across from him in the library, avoiding his gaze like it was the plague, he could tell that that was far from the truth.

You knew that if you carried on your cold shoulder approach Draco would most likely write to his father about the situation, which would result in an awkward conversation for your dad (god forbid purebloods cared about more than just themselves), but you weren’t going to back down. All you wanted was for him to apologise but his pride was never going to allow that.

So, there you sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Y/N, will you please just look at me?”

You shook your head.

Draco sighed loudly, “Please, Y/N. I’m sick of this.”

“I’m sure Hermione is sick of your constant bullying too, Draco, but that’s clearly not stopping you.”

He huffed as you continued to stare down at your book. He wanted you to relent easily, like you had after the incident at Flourish and Blotts, but you weren’t going to this time. He had to understand that his behavior was wrong.

“It’s not like it concerned you anyway so I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive about it.” He muttered.

“And that right there is the problem, Malfoy.” You replied, still not looking up from your book.

You both went mute for another few minutes until Draco was truly fed up. He wasn’t used to people going against him, usually anyone who did was tormented mercilessly by him and his friends but he couldn’t do that to you. You were one of his friends. Not in the same way as Parkinson or Goyle were, you were different. He cared for you in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but you were still a friend and he didn’t want to argue with you in that fashion. Besides, he knew you would take absolutely none of it even if he tried. So, he resorted to pettier measures.

He reached across the table and ripped your book from your grasp.

“Hey! Give that back!” You shouted, earning yourself a glare from Pince.

“Not until you start talking to me properly again.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re such a child.”

He just stared blankly at you.

“I don’t want you to hate me just because of this.”

“Since when have you cared about anybody else’s opinion, Malfoy?”

“I care about what you think of me.”

You gave a short, bitter laugh, “If you really cared what I thought you would get your head out of your arse and attempt to understand why what you said was wrong.”

He continued with his blank stare, still offering you nothing in a way of an apology. So, you snatched your things back from him and stormed out of the library, leaving him to stew some more.

Draco’s fall had been quite spectacular. Not as bad as Harry’s but enough to wind him and leave him with some pretty nasty bruises on his back and side. They still didn’t sting quite as bad as his deflated ego, falling in that fashion was embarrassing enough, but having done it in front of his father was even worse. Madam Pompfey had said that he was fine to go not long after he had arrived but Lucius had insisted he stay for a few more hours, “just in case.”

He had just woken up from a nap and grunted as he shifted onto the side of his body with less injuries when he finally looked up and noticed you.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You teased with a small smirk.

“What are you doing here?” He quipped back.

Your face fell, “Well good to see you too.”

He suddenly realized that this was the first time you were actually speaking to him of your own free will, so he quickly changed his tune.

“I just meant… I thought Crabbe and Goyle would be here not you.”

“Dinner time.” You said as you gestured to the clock above the door, “Even you are not worth missing a meal over to them. Speaking of…”

You grabbed a bag and deposited it onto his lap. He rifled through, finding wrapped up sandwiches and cakes that you must have nabbed from the great hall.

“I figured they wouldn’t have fed you yet.”

Draco looked up at you slightly bewildered by your generosity, “…Thank you.”

You shrugged in response and watched as he bit into a sandwich before nodding in approval.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Y/N?” He questioned after finishing his mouthful.

You smiled, “You’re still my friend, Draco. Even if you acting like a complete dolt –”

He smiled back at you but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“– Besides, you got hurt. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You sure you’re not just here to poke fun at me.” He finally gave a proper smirk.

“Hmm, maybe a tad.”

You both chuckled, Draco reveled in the sound, finally feeling like you were both going back to normal.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shot up. Surely, he hadn’t just said that.

He snickered again at your surprise, “I’m sorry for being a dolt, as you so graciously put it.”

You smiled at him. That friendly, charming smile that he had missed so much.

“You know I’m not really the one you need to be apologizing to, right?”

“I do.” He nodded, “But you know that’s not going to happen.”

You bowed your head slightly. You did know that. His pride was always going to come before anything else. You got the impression that he still didn’t understand why he should apologise but at least he finally said the words, that was a start.

“I promise I’ll try and do better.” He looked at you sincerely with a comforting smile that he reserved just for you.

“That’s all I can ask.” You beamed back, “Now, finish this food before Crabbe and Goyle come back and do it for you.”

S E R I E S  T A G L I S T :  @marvel-th @uirene @songforhema @bi-mama @itsfeliciatime @deansperfectbody @21bruhs @thegreat-annamaria @bellaagates @mhftrs @missingthered0426 @fallsicarus @aanaxxo @bellagrayson-wayne @that-weird-kid-charlie @callie-bear15 @fandomscombine

[cxnsigliere]

King’s Backstory.

Warnings; mentions of:

teenage pregnancy / teenage birth

large age-gap relationships

physical abuse / physically abusive relationships

sexual abuse / sexual manipulation / sexually abusive relationships

prostitution / underage prostitution

pedophilia

rape

suicide threats / suicide

strangulation / death by strangulation

Note: Please keep in mind that I am in no way glorifying the messed up things that take place in this backstory at all! King has done things or has had things happen to him that I would NEVER approve of and that I DON’T condone in any way, shape, or form. These are simply things that... just happened to him, shaping him into the character he is now. Please don’t think I’m fetishizing or romanticizing anything here or something like that. SO, now that that’s out of the way, I present you... King’s full backstory!

     Hildred--now known as “King”--was born on October 7, to Garrett and Clarisse Brasher, who were both only seventeen years old--seniors in high school--when they had the baby. Garrett would eventually become a respected capo of the Giraldi Mafia family when he was around 23, though surprisingly enough, he had been a very emotional and sensitive man, perhaps unfitting for his line of work. Clarisse had gone to law school when she was 19, then becoming an attorney when she was 26--she was a very rude woman through and through, even to her husband and especially to her child.

     Because they had Hildred at such a young age, their respective parents had pressured the young couple into getting married as soon as they could, thus tying the knot the minute they graduated high school, 18 years old. However, it had been clear to just about anyone who knew either of them that their relationship wasn’t healthy in the slightest. They argued constantly. Garrett loved his wife more than anything in the world, and did everything he could in order to provide for her and their son, giving them more than enough money than the family probably needed. Clarisse, on the other hand, never showed any appreciation for her husband, and in fact came to resent both him and their baby--she had dreams of becoming a world-famous jazz singer, which Garrett had promised he could make happen for her when they had first gotten together in the first place, but because of their hassle with the young pregnancy and to get married so quickly, it never happened for her. So Clarisse blamed the both of them for that. While Garrett was not home, she would very frequently physically and verbally abuse Hildred. She and Garrett later had two other children, Zariah and Connor, years later.

     It wasn’t long until Garrett’s way of life was, of course, the Mafia. Though he was a good man, his morality was astray--he thought that money was what made people happy, and so he worked hard in any way he could to make that money for his family--even if that involved committing crime, such as loansharking, gambling, extortion, political corruption, and even murder. These were all things that Garrett viewed as bad, but had good outcomes in the long-run. If he killed somebody, yes, it was sad and he would regret it, but in the end, the money he gets from that would make his wife and children happy--and wasn’t that what really mattered?

     So, with that mentality in mind, Garrett had wanted that same fortune for his son as he got older. He raised Hildred to someday become a made man in the Mafia himself, to know exactly what his job was like--unlike most Mafioso parents, who would typically keep their line of work a complete and utter secret from their family. Garrett taught Hildred how to shoot a gun. He taught Hildred how to intimidate people if anyone ever gave him trouble. He taught Hildred to always throw the first punch in a fight. He taught Hildred to never tell anyone, even close friends, what Garrett did for a living. And Hildred was a quick learner--he did exactly as his father told him to.

     But instead of growing up bold and noble like Garrett had planned him to, Hildred grew up to be quite a bully as a child, violent and arrogant, and had anger issues like you could never believe, even given his young age. He had absolutely no friends growing up. He got into fights constantly with his fellow students at school, cussed out teachers, made poor grades, all very much to the dismay of his father, who could only gently tell Hildred that this behavior was going to get him nowhere in life, but it only did so much. The child’s terrible attitude and mentality carried with him throughout most of his life, up to the age of 16 or so, if not older.

     When Hildred was 13 years old, he had managed to court a girl, an 18-year-old cheerleader in his school, named Lainey Chung. Many of their peers were surprised by the fact that Lainey, one of the most popular girls in school, would date this overweight bastard delinquent with no friends, but in truth, the only reason Lainey went out with Hildred was for the sex--which he had assumed was perfectly normal, given it was his first relationship. Hildred lost his virginity to Lainey within the first two days of dating each other--and their relationship came to an abrupt end when he had found out that she was cheating on him with a senior football player, Trystan Carballal, after only one week of dating.

     Ironically enough, despite his temper, Hildred did not fight Trystan over this. Admittedly, he hadn’t really grown that attached to Lainey--they didn’t last very long, after all. Actually, Trystan and Lainey didn’t last long, either. They broke up after a few months for the exact same reason Hildred had broken up with Lainey for--she cheated on him. Though unlike Hildred, Trystan was genuinely hurt by this, and came to Hildred after they had broken up, because he knew that they were in the same boat now.

     Trystan was then Hildred’s first real friend, though it was a little awkward between them at first. It wasn’t long until Trystan told to Hildred in confidence that he was bisexual, but was terrified of the truth coming out to the rest of the school. Of course Hildred didn’t care what Trystan’s sexuality was, and thought nothing of it at first--until it made Hildred begin to realize that he was developing the same feelings for Trystan that he had developed for Lainey, realizing that he may be bisexual as well. Or gay. Maybe straight. He was never quite sure. One thing he knew, though, was that he liked Trystan--that much he could be sure of.

     Eventually there came a time that Hildred would tell his feelings to Trystan. He was delighted when the feelings were requited, and the two formed a relationship--although it remained a secret from everyone, since they both were in the closet.

     However, he came to realize that Trystan was not too far off from Lainey. He never cheated on him, but used the younger boy for sex constantly. Again, Hildred just guessed that this was normal for every relationship, and could never bring himself to say no whenever Trystan would make any advances on him, just wanting to make him happy--and afraid of the consequences if he said no. There came a point where Hildred just became blindly obedient to the senior football player, answering to his every request like a puppy wagging its tail when its owner calls.

     One day Trystan told his boyfriend, “there’s a car park down in Manhattan where you can make extra money by having sex with older men,” inviting Hildred to do this with him, “for support,” as Trystan referred to it. At first Hildred was obviously very hesitant about this, but because he didn’t want to disappoint him, he agreed to it, and began going down to that car park after school with Trystan, where he would perform sexual favors for these older men, mostly middle-aged, nearly every day. At the time, he honestly thought nothing of it, or didn’t fully realize the affect this would seriously have on him both mentally and physically until it was far too late.

     This went on for about two years. On one particular night, while waiting for the subway to go back home, coming back from this car park, the 14-year-old Hildred hadn’t even noticed a man stalking him. Judging from this man’s appearance alone, he must have been in his mid-thirties to early forties. Hildred was all alone, this being a rather secluded area unbeknownst to hardly anyone. So, with no witnesses around, the man grabbed Hildred from behind, dragging him into a nearby alleyway. The attacker knocked the boy down, then smashed his face onto the ground with one hand and ripped his pants off with the other. He does not remember anything after that, other than waking up in the hospital with his father, his 7-year-old sister and 3-year-old brother by the side of the bed, sobbing as they worried about Hildred’s well being. This was how his parents finally found out about what Hildred had been doing every day after school, which of course Hildred had never dared to tell them before. This put a bit of a rift between him and his parents--his mother especially. His father did not blame him for what happened to him, but only wished that he wouldn’t have kept all of this a secret for so long. After Garrett had found out what those men had done to Hildred, he gathered people from Giraldi--the Mafia family he worked for--to raid the car park, killing every pervert there and shutting the entire place down. Trystan was obviously upset about this, knowing it had been his boyfriend’s father to have done this, and so he broke up with Hildred, leaving the younger boy in shambles.

     After he healed and returned to school, Hildred was obviously deeply hurt by everything that had happened, and by the breakup with Trystan. He couldn’t even tell anyone that he had just gotten molested. Only his parents knew--and that hadn’t even been his own choice. He had, however, reached out to a rape crisis helpline one time in secret, but was told very matter-of-factly by the woman operator on the other end, “This number is only for girls and women--men are the abusers. Women are the victims,” and she hung up to, “terminate the call so that they can help real victims.” Given this was in the early 2000s, male rape was not really considered real by many people at the time--especially not a male of his bulk. Though he was young, he was already nearing six feet tall and was vastly overweight. So, aside from the support only from his father, Hildred was completely and utterly alone on this, forced to keep silent.

     The only other person that Hildred went out of his way to seek help from was his mother, Clarisse--which turned out to be a mistake. When Hildred had anxiously asked if he could perhaps see a professional about this, a therapist, she only got angry and shouted at him. “It’s your own fucking fault that you’re a goddamn mess, ain’t it? Grow up! You went to that car park in your own free will! You’re just a whore--I’ve got a slut for a son. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?”

     And then Hildred began to cry.

     This angered Clarisse even more. Since Garrett wasn’t home at the time, Clarisse saw no problem in grabbing the boy and forcibly drugging him in order to shut him up and keep quiet--but that’s not all it was for, either. She had then took his clothes off, tied him to the kitchen table, where she then performed a botched enema on him. He hadn’t even completely passed out, lying awake while this all happened, but because of his dazed state, he couldn’t even do anything to stop it.

     Afterwards, being without the help that he clearly needed, Hildred still had a bad tendency to sleep around with older men he would meet up with, and the other students in school--most of them boys, several girls. At this point, the fights he frequently got into, just his over all anger issues, were still very much prevalent, but now he just desperately wanted to fill the void where Lainey and Trystan (particularly the latter) had been--and at this point, he firmly believed that the only thing he was ever any good for was sex, figuring that was the key to making people like him. His perception of healthy relationships was completely warped now, and he was willing to accept just about anybody that came into his life.

     Rumors did spread throughout the school of Hildred’s past in the car park, though no one knew for certain if it was true. One of his teachers, Mr. Chance Ortiz, had heard about this, and instead of talking to Hildred about it, the man simply came to resent the student for it, though he never said why. In the beginning, this wasn’t so bad--he would simply do things like “lose” Hildred’s schoolwork, deliberately giving him poor grades, the like. Hildred, being the delinquent he was, didn’t take kindly to this treatment, and began to act out towards this particular teacher than he ever had with anyone else before. He started playing pranks on the teacher weekly--super-gluing his desk-drawer from opening, putting an apple in the tailpipe of his car, throwing water balloons out of the second story window right onto the teacher down below, even putting laxatives in his coffee. This “war”, as the other students called it, went on for about two years, up until Hildred was 16 years old.

     Finally there came a time that Hildred inevitably got detention for this. He was now 16, sitting inside Mr. Ortiz’s classroom after school all by himself, accompanied only by Ortiz himself. Hildred attempted to strike up conversation with the man--nothing too bad. Simply things like, “hey, when am I getting out of here again?” and, “you know, I don’t really think I did anything wrong.” This went on for a while before Ortiz snapped at the student, saying, “My God! Is everyone in your family this infuriating?!”

     It was common knowledge that Hildred’s parents both had attended this same school when they were younger. In Garrett’s youth, he had been a troublemaker as well--perhaps not quite as much as Hildred, though. Ortiz had taught Garrett and Clarisse years ago, so he knew full well how much of a handful Hildred’s parents were--particularly his father.

     This comment made Hildred pause, and he asked him, “how is my family infuriating, exactly?”

     “I knew your father when he was a teenager,” Ortiz said, as if Hildred didn’t already know the obvious. “He was just like you are now. Rebellious, obnoxious, annoying, loud. A whore, he slept around--though I would imagine he must be no different nowadays. He had you, after all.” Then he went on to say something that he clearly did not mean to say aloud, but slipped: “Dumb father, even dumber son.”

     This set the student completely over the edge as he got up from his seat, throwing his desk behind him and charging his way towards the teacher. Ortiz then realized he made a mistake--this boy was obviously not above hitting a teacher. He tried to run, but Hildred had caught him by the throat before he could make his escape. Hildred then proceeded to ram the older man’s face against the wall over and over until his face was completely unrecognizable. Ortiz was lucky to survive. He was sent to the hospital for a month, and resigned from his job shortly after that incident.

     After this, Hildred was permanently expelled from the school, and was forced to transfer. His father, greatly disappointed that his son could have done this, had insisted he go to a Catholic school. Hildred transferred to Lakeside Catholic School, an all-boys school.

     It was in Lakeside that Hildred met a boy named Luca Masini, a short, quiet bookworm, the son of a preacher who worked as an altar boy after school. Hildred found him cute, so he striked up a conversation with him. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for them to bond--Luca seemingly had no other friends, and neither did Hildred. So, they definitely found solace in that.

     Lakeside Catholic School would often have dances so that the boys may interact with the all-girls school once in a while--particularly around the holidays. In this instance, it was around Christmas. It being Hildred’s first few months there, he was honestly somewhat excited to go--but he didn’t want to go alone. Seeing as Luca was the only friend he had, Hildred had practically begged him to go with him, but Luca was never one for much social interaction with large groups of people, so at first he refused. But Hildred never gave up, and eventually convinced the other boy to go.

     However, Hildred and Luca did not spend much time together as they had planned when the dance finally came around. Luca was admittedly cast aside a bit when Hildred had met three girls--a group of friends--named Amber Kennedy, Veronica Delgado, and Kiera Pickett. Amber was a short, bubbly girl who had been set on flirting with Hildred the minute she’d walked into the room. Veronica was just awkward, but sweet nonetheless, though Amber loved to insult and berate her for everything. And Kiera was quiet, often moody and was the only one of the three who pretty much refused to talk to Hildred, immediately deciding she hated him--perhaps she’d heard the rumors about him, though Hildred couldn’t be sure.

     He hit it off with Amber nearly right away. They sneaked out of the dance and into the school bathrooms, where they did it then and there, leaving Luca, Veronica and Kiera to their own devices as they cast them aside. And once they were finished up with that, Amber had given the boy her phone number, telling him, “Call me as soon as you can, okay? We should sooo do this again sometime! Outside of school and whatnot. I’d love to get to know you better!”

     And sure enough, during the following days, Hildred and Amber began to date.

     It quickly turned out that Amber was no better than Lainey or Trystan, and thus Hildred once again fell into the vicious cycle of letting himself be used for sex in this relationship. Amber was a sex addict through and through, as if it was all she ever thought about, despite being only 16--for what reason, Hildred could never be sure as he never tried to pry into her personal life, but he was sure she must have been through something awful in her life. But regardless, the rare moments when he would tell her that he didn’t want to have sex, she’d often get violent--of course not being able to do too much damage seeing as she was much smaller and weaker than him, but she’d often throw things across the room like plates and such, landing him with quite a few cuts here and there. She’d also threaten to harm or even kill herself if he ever refused to do it with her, and as such he could never really say no to her.

     An entire year into this toxic relationship, it had been Luca who had caught Amber cheating on Hildred--he’d been staying after school to talk to one of his teachers, Mr. Huber, where he then saw the 62-year-old man with Amber, who must have visited all the way from the all-girls’ school to meet up with him. Luca immediately ran, the teacher literally chased him, yelling at the boy that he’d kill him. The altar boy eventually found a hiding place at the side of the school building, where he then called Hildred and asked him to pick him up as fast as he could, that he was in trouble and that he had something to tell him. Hildred did exactly as he was told, picking Luca up and driving off to his house, where Luca told him everything that he’d just seen. Mr. Huber was soon fired from his job and, of course, arrested.

     After hearing of this, Hildred finally broke up with Amber, which surprisingly to him, left her in tears. He felt bad--when he thought of taking her back shortly after, Luca had to tell him, “Don’t you dare! She's downright awful, Hildred! You deserve so much better than that...” And so... he didn’t! He completely cut Amber out of his life for quite some time, and rightfully so.

     Then Amber visited him at his house after several months of not talking, much to Hildred’s surprise. It had been late at night while both of his parents and siblings were asleep, and he was the only one up. And it was there, right outside of the house, right at the doorstep, that Amber cried and sobbed and begged Hildred to take her back and that she could get better. He tried to refuse at first, but inevitably came the moment she told him through pouring tears, “Please--please, Hildred! I- I’ll... I’ll kill myself! I- I’ll shoot myself in the fucking head, or I’ll slit my wrists, s- so please! Please take me back!”

     This completely set Hildred over the edge. He wanted so desperately to say ‘don’t do it, I’ll stay with you,’ feeling obligated to say yes to her every command--as he had always felt for every single person who’d taken advantage of him. But he had to remember what Luca had told him. She was downright awful. He deserved so much better. He deserved so much better.

     But what he couldn’t keep under control was the voice in his head repeating over and over to him, a voice that sounded oddly like his father for some strange reason:

‘Kill her.  Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.’

     And so, without even thinking, Hildred had grabbed his ex-girlfriend by the throat, pulling the girl into the house, and strangled her to death. Fine--if she wanted to kill herself so badly, he’d just do it for her. She, of course, died, and Hildred couldn’t tell if what he felt afterwards was relief or regret. Perhaps... both? Regardless... he had never killed anyone before. When he finally came back to his senses, he panicked, screaming as he ran upstairs to his parents. When he woke them up, they came downstairs only to find a dead girl in their living room. Clarisse screamed and hid in her room, and Garrett simply responded with, “Oh... Oh, jeez...”

     Hildred tried to explain, sobbing hysterically. “I- I don’t know what came over me, I- I don’t--I- I- I jus’--!! Sh- She said she’d kill herself if I didn’t... i- if I didn’t take her back, I- I couldn’t control it, I- I couldn’t--!”

     Surprisingly, Garrett was not all that mad. He was shocked, for sure, but not mad. “Hildred, it’s... it’s okay! It’s okay. I’ll take care of this, okay? You’ll be alright. I promise.”

     Then Clarisse’s voice sounded from up the stairs, though she still refused to look at the body. “You can’t get rid of the body! Somebody might’ve seen her come here. If she gets reported missing, that’s going to seem suspicious...”

     “It’s gonna be suspicious if she’s found dead in our home, Clarisse!” Garrett said.

     "Yep, it sure will be. But, I... I’m an attorney--I can get him through this, I think.”

     Hildred sniffled. “Y- You mean... you’ll lie for me?”

     “Sure.”

     And so the wisest thing Clarisse said to do was immediately call the police--which Garrett did, albeit reluctantly. He explained to the police that the girl had come to the house with the intent to kill Hildred and tried to attack him, and he acted out of self-defense by hitting her in the head with a pan. Afterwards, Garrett had put on gloves to take a frying pan from the kitchen, bashed it over the dead Amber’s head to get it and her head nice and bloody.

     The police easily fell for all the lies that the family told them. Months later Clarisse begrudgingly lied to the court as her son’s attorney, and at first they bought everything she told them, up until the rival attorney cross examined Hildred, practically asking him question after question until he broke down and confessed.

     “Why was Amber Kennedy at your house, Hildred?” the other attorney--the Kennedy family’s attorney--asked him.

     “She... She wanted t’ get back with me after I broke up with her.”

     “Really? So, where were your parents in this ordeal? Where were they when you in... self-defense?”

     “Th- They were asleep...”

     “They didn’t hear the screams from the both of you when you fought?”

     “I- I guess not, ahah...”

     “You’d think something like that would be quite loud, wouldn’t it? Don’t you have little siblings, Hildred?”

     “...Y- Yeah, I do...”

     “Now, if your parents didn’t wake up, sure--but children have a very keen hearing sense, don’t they? Why didn’t they wake up?”

     “I- I don’t know... I- I don’t know, okay?!”

     “Would they not wake up and tell the parents if they heard or saw their brother fighting to the death with anyone?”

     “I- I don’t know!”

     “Or could it be that there were no screams at all, then? Was it a quiet death? Did you, perhaps, not hit her with a pan at all? Did you do something else? Like choke her?”

     Clarisse stood up from her stand then, defensive. “I- I object--!”

     But Hildred had bursted into tears right then and there, before exclaiming, “Y- Yes! I killed her, okay?! I- I choked her, I choked her! Sh- She said she’d kill herself if I didn’t take her back, a- and I got angry--I don’t know what came over me, I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry...!!”

     The rival attorney smirked, then said, “The defense rests, your honor,” before going back to his seat.

     And with that new confession to Amber’s death, Hildred was put into jail, and Clarisse had been fired from her job once it was found out she was lying for her son. Hildred was originally going to get seven years for committing murder, but thanks to the help of the boss of Giraldi--Malcolm Willis--paying people off, Hildred was able to get out in just two years, when he was 20 years old.

     While in jail, however, somebody had come to visit him quite frequently. Veronica Delgado, who was already a good friend of Hildred at that point. Surprisingly to him, Veronica completely understood why Hildred did what he did, and didn’t blame him at all. They eventually started dating, even despite Hildred being imprisoned.

     After getting out, Hildred and Veronica were able to be happy for a long while. Luckily Veronica was nothing like any of his exes were. She never abused him, never used him for sex, never got violent, none of that. She was genuinely sweet and understood him--a feeling which he’d never got to experience in a relationship before.

     But, on the other hand, Hildred had grown so attached to Veronica because of the fact that this was his first healthy relationship, that he was often overly clingy to the point it became a bit mentally abusive towards Veronica. Hildred, much like with what Amber had done before she was killed, would often threaten to harm or kill himself if Veronica tried to leave him, or he would threaten to kill anyone that she talked to that he became jealous of. He was possessive. Very, very possessive.

     And eventually, after Hildred had suggested to Veronica that they “get married someday,” Veronica just couldn’t handle his behavior anymore, and Hildred discovered her body hanging by rope in their room the next day. She had hung herself, all because Hildred had scared her too much from trying to break up with him someday, and terrified that she’d have to marry him.

     After Veronica’s death, a few days later, Hildred--who was now an utter wreck--had been sitting in a bar, drinking away his sorrows, when a familiar girl had approached him. Not to flirt, but rather, to call him out. It was Kiera Pickett, who had been a good friend of Amber and Veronica--particularly the latter. Kiera had attempted to kill Hildred, plunging a pocket knife through his left eye, blinding him in the eye. Luckily, Kiera was held back by security before she could do anything more, and she was carried away by police as she screamed, “You ruined my life, y- you killed them, you kill both of them, fuck you, fuck you, y- you goddamn WHORE--!!” And Hildred never saw Kiera again after that encounter, although he’d heard that she was put into a psychiatric hospital. Hildred himself was hospitalized for the injured eye and was released a week later, though he was now permanently half blind.

     Of course, this put him further into his depressive state as yet another relationship failed for him. At the very least Luca was still there to comfort him. He was the one who suggested to Hildred that he ought to get therapy now, see a professional about his clearly declining mental health--and he did for a very short while, but it didn’t last for long as he simply stopped going after a few weeks or so. Luca did, however, eventually confess feelings for Hildred in this span of time, which were very much reciprocated. So he and Luca began dating, and this time Hildred tried his best to keep his possessiveness and his temper under control, even if it was hard at times. He wasn’t going to lose Luca like he’d lost Veronica this time. They got married that year.

     One particular day, Hildred and Luca had both been on their way to Hildred’s father’s house for a nice visit, passing by a small pond which wasn’t far off from the house. However, at the pond Luca stopped in his tracks, grabbing his husband by the arm and pointed towards what he saw. It was Garrett’s body, floating face down in the water with blood everywhere. He’d been murdered.

     Out of sheer panic, Hildred had attempted to go into the murky water to drag his father’s body out, hoping that perhaps he may still be alive--though it was obvious that he wasn’t--but unfortunately for him he’d never even learned to swim, so this was a clear mistake as he nearly drowned. It’d been Luca who had to pull Hildred back, asking him, “What were you trying to achieve?!” but Hildred could only respond with sobs and screams. Garrett had just died. He was dead. His dad was dead. He could never get him back.

     Detectives never figured out who it was that killed Garrett--or whoever it was, they must have paid them off to keep it covered. Regardless, Hildred never found out. And now, it was during this time that Malcolm Willis, the boss of Giraldi, personally came to Hildred to give his condolences, and to ask him to work for him in his late consigliere’s place. That same week Malcolm’s consigliere, or basically his right-hand man, had died of natural causes, and Malcolm had personally chosen Hildred to be his new consigliere, especially seeing as he knew Garrett probably would have wanted it. Despite being an absolute wreck now, Hildred had assumed it would be what his father wanted, so he agreed to it, becoming the consigliere to the boss.

     As Hildred quickly came to learn, Giraldi’s hideout was in a large restaurant by the name of Cavallero, which was owned by Malcolm himself as a cover-up for the crimes Giraldi would commit. Everybody from Giraldi was nearly always found here, including Hildred now, who of course always brought Luca with him.

     One particular day, however, while Hildred and Luca were now 24 years old, they both hadn’t noticed a car following theirs as they made their way to Cavallero. Not too long after Hildred and Luca had walked into the restaurant, the people from the car which had been following them came in as well with guns, shooting the entire place up and killing most of the people inside. One of the many who died, much to the dismay of Hildred, was Luca, who fell dead to the ground beside him.

     Hildred hid until it was all over and the attackers were finally sent packing. There were a few survivors, such as Malcolm. However, Hildred was not found in the restaurant after that. He just... went missing. Several people got out of the building as it caught on fire, and it then exploded, killing anybody who hadn’t gotten out yet. Hildred was pronounced dead, and the Cavallero building has long since been rebuilt, now even better than it’d been before.

[sad-af1121]

Little Did You Know: Part 5

Summary: You thought your upbringing in a mafia home was a difficult time in your life, fighting for the love of Bucky Barnes who didn’t meet your father’s standards. But even when you’ve both stayed away from that chaotic life, the past returns and things get out of hand. The home you both built tumbled harsher as your reality flew out the window and so did your heart.  (Modern AU) Pairing: Ex-Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1588 Warnings: Angst (just expect that for MOST of the chapters) drinking, emotional load A/N:  2 and a half weeks till this semester is over and I’ve been working my ass off so I’ve awarded myself by writing part 5. Feedback is welcomed 💜

   Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Bucky kicked Dolores out of his room after he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel. Yanking her arm and tossing her belongings out the door. He didn’t give her any time to talk, he fucking couldn't. He searched and searched every corner and perimeter of the place but was found empty-handed. Panic resided inside him, an overwhelming anxiety that blinded his logical mind.

He screamed, trashing the room and tearing up the papers Dot made him sign. Rage and grief were the only things he knew at that moment, having a fit like a toddler.

His second thought was to call your cell phone, praying you’d pick up just once. After countless of calls, messages, and voicemails, he gave up. Desperation drenched his skin.

Bucky couldn’t get a hold of you, going crazy as he wondered where you were and if you were safe. You had his child, acknowledging you wouldn't do anything insane but then again, what could he be sure of now?

Hurt was written in your eyes, regret in Bucky’s heart.

Steve was no help, saying he didn’t get a call from you. Something in Bucky’s heart hoped you did, at least you would be somewhere with protection and a roof over your head. It wasn’t like you couldn’t stay at a hotel or go back home, but with tonight's events, you wouldn't want to go somewhere where it reminded you of him. It was better to have someone to lean on other than Bucky.

Bucky sat in the middle of the living room, hypnotized by the flames that illuminated the dark surroundings. Not an ounce of sleep was gifted to him, his mind running a thousand miles per hour. His tear-stained cheeks were cherry red, his eyes growing dark and grey. He had nothing to give, nothing to lose now.

One stupid fucking mistake cost him his entire life and future.

“What the fuck was I thinking?” Bucky cried softly, drowning what seemed to be a bottle of whiskey. When he noticed the amber fluid wasn’t filling his gut, he threw the glass against the wall.

The shattered pieces rung in his ears, flinching to the sound. Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he began rocking back and forth, tangling his fingers in his hair. His cries grew louder, body quivering like a drug absent in his bloodstream.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Bucky whimpered, sniffling as he laid on the ground, curling in a fetal position until he was drowned in sleep.

*A week Later *

Thanks to Steve, you were mentally stable, taking time for yourself and realizing what you had to do and more. He told Bucky where you were the next day, a sense of relief washing over Bucky. He didn’t contact you, giving you as much space as you craved.

He and Steve had a long talk, even explained what went down between him and Dolores. Steve was torn in between. It was like playing a game of tug of war with the two important people in his life. But regardless of the blackmail, Bucky should have known better. There was no excuse. Provocation from the past made him take this step. It was a moment of weakness however, it doesn’t condone Bucky’s behavior.

After thinking about it, Steve advised Bucky it was best to leave you alone until you were fit to talk or even see him again. He’d give Bucky an update about you and James whenever he called to check in. And that was it. Steve wouldn’t tell Bucky more because you needed to heal and Bucky needed to be taught a lesson, re-evaluate his decisions before deciding to pounce on them. Even if his loyalty was on the line. Steve debated if he should tell you about Tony Stark and Bucky’s involvement with your father but he decided not to, feeding you a bit of information at a time.

The baby helped the most, keeping your focus entirely on him. However, James had his moments, wanting his father's presence like playing with Bucky’s fingers or getting tickled with his scruff. It was a favorite of his, his chunky fingers grabbing Bucky’s cheeks as his delicate nails dug into the skin, earning a playful hiss from his father. Or how Bucky’s hair would fall in front of his little face, making James cling onto them like a rope. The loud scream-like giggles would erupt from the small bean and it brought a smile to your face.

But now those memories were bittersweet, leaving a pungent taste of emptiness.

“Mrs. Barnes, there’s a call for you. It’s Mr. Rogers.” The butler informed, his hand cupping over the speaker of the phone.

You tore your eyes from James who laid on the playing matt, a teething ring shoved into his mouth and covered in drool. “Just call me Y/N, please.” You said softly, your heart jerking a bit.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.” He handed you the phone before departing from the room to yourself.

“Hey, how’s it going?” You breathed, forcing a grin.

“Good. Had the usual paperwork to get done and handled some shipments. How are you? Did you eat?” Steve asked, trying not to push too many questions down your throat.

Ever since Steve had to go back to work, he couldn't sleep, worried out of his mind about you.

The two days after the night, you refused to eat, saying you had no appetite whatsoever. Steve still insisted you do, since you breastfed James. Next was the lack of sleep or rest. Night terrors blinded your dream-state, Bucky’s infidelity replaying in your mind.

To get away from your thoughts, you always found something to occupy your mind, but whenever the baby cried, you would join him, panicking and pushing yourself into the depths of depression. The signs were evident and it shocked Steve how quickly it changed you.

That bubbly personality and strong persona disappeared, morphed into an enclosed and quiet one. The life was slowly draining out of you and Steve didn’t have a clue what to do. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions so he kept a close eye, observing your actions, expressions, and responses.

“Ah, I’m okay. Watching Jay play with his toys.” You swallowed, trying to ignore the other question.

“Oh, that’s great. And what did you eat?” He pressed, sitting in his office chair.

Sighing, you mumbled. “I had an apple…”

“Y/N.” Steve said, rubbing his temples. “ It’s 2 p.m. and all you had was an apple? Please eat for me, doll.”

“Steve I can’t! Everything tastes bland! Everything I do doesn’t feel right! I’m tired and wanna leave. I don’t wanna do anything.  Do you know how hard this is? Do you know there’s a big gaping hole where my heart used to be? I can’t look at my own son without seeing Bucky and it disgusts me!” You confessed, yanking your hair. “I c-can’t do this anymore, Stevie. It’s like my body refuses to let him go.”

“More like you’re refusing to let him go,” Steve mumbled, biting his tongue to say anything that might get you to snap. “I’m tryin’ here, okay? I know this shit isn’t easy, but you gotta get a hold of yourself, Y/N. For the sake of James.”

Soft steady tears ran down your face, forming dark spots on your blouse. You looked at your baby boy, choking on a breath when he sees your distressed features, his bright ocean blue eyes staring into yours. He rolled over on his stomach and tried to squirm in your direction but it was useless. James hasn’t learned to crawl yet, making him frustrated. Lifting his head, his face scrunches in anger, letting out a small whimper.

Seeing his efforts, you pick him up, pecking his cheeks before settling him in your lap. You couldn’t stop being a mother, especially when he hasn’t done anything to you. Abandoning him wasn’t the best option and you swore you’d never do that. He was all you’ve got and you had to remind yourself every second of the day if that’s what it took.

After a moment of silence, Steve cleared his throat, waiting for a response. “Everything will be okay. You need to take time for yourself. I’ve got you no matter what; ya gotta trust me on this, please?”

Maybe he was lying to pretend things would get better but you only knew half the story. It killed Steve that he couldn’t tell you exactly what Bucky did, torn between the truth and your love for the man. If it were up to him, he would hide you, away from anyone and anything just to keep you breathing the same air as your son. If you found out, it would break you more than any pain can.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped the tears and kissed the top of James' head, smoothing back the loose hairs, “Yeah, I really hope so.”

After the phone call ended, you spent the rest of the day watching your favorite movies, and eating what your heart desired. It wasn’t the same experience, so dull and tasteless.  Steve had sent a nanny over to watch your son while you took time for yourself, lessening the stress from your shoulders and having a mental day.  

Yet, the voices inside your head screamed for release, banging on the doors for freedom but you kept them in, blocking out their sounds with your cries.

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[feelingsdusk-writes]

The time to let go

(For the Peter Hale square.)

The damn creature is laughing.

Well, Peter thinks he (she? them? it?) is laughing. For one, the dark-skinned being’s facial features are nothing like a human’s, so he’s assuming that the horrifying widening of the mouth that’s showing too many and too sharp teeth is actually a smile. For two, the sound that’s coming from it, is at the same time shrill and deep and everything in between, as if more than two voices are speaking at the same time, the same exact words, in unison. Peter doesn’t like what that implies.

(Boy, did Disney get it wrong, by the way.)

And Scott is trying to talk to it.

Peter doesn’t regret many things in his life, but in the cases he does feel regret, the sentiment is strong, deeply and excruciatingly so. The clumsy way he handled the Paige matter, dismissing his own concerns and suspicions about Derek’s fishy behavior back then and the way he let Talia step over him even though she was the one that gave him the position of enforcer, are the most recent fine examples of that. Biting Scott McCall is rapidly climbing up to the very top of those.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Scott wails, expression earnest.

Also, right now, he’s regretting coming back to life altogether.

Why? Why? Why did he choose to come back? Ah, yes, Gerard. And his damn self-preservation instincts, because Peter has never known when to let go. But why didn’t he leave? Because being contrary and seeing their frustrated faces isn’t making up for the inconvenience anymore. He should have left to greener pastures a long time ago… especially since he’s caught some whispers of sending him to Eichen House as of late.

The creature lifts its hand to mockingly pet the little boy’s fox ears and Peter instantly becomes tense like a coiled spring, ready to jump in. There are warning shouts all around and Peter wants to scoff, because if warnings worked on that thing they wouldn’t be in this situation.

“You can relax,” it says, making a shiver go up Peter’s whole back, and, well, excuse him, but not happening. “I’m not going to hurt him.” Again, excuse him if Peter doesn’t trust… How can he be so stupid? Why is that stupid, stupid, stupid boy trusting what it says? Even his less than brilliant nephew hasn’t relaxed! The sheriff and the Argents (both of them, father and still healing daughter) are still pointing their guns at it! Peter doesn’t know where the rest of the pack is, but he’d bet his life that they wouldn’t trust that thing either, dammit. “But I thought we could play a little game.”

When a fairy says that, you better tense.

When a fairy says that while they smile with sharp shark/piranha teeth, you better be scared.

When a fairy says that while they smile with sharp shark/piranha teeth and two serpentine tongues come out from in between those aforementioned teeth, you better prepare your testament.

“What kind of game?”

Oh, for the love of…

“You want to play then, good,” it says and Peter wants to bash his head in the nearest flat surface. “It’s very simple, actually. I let pumpkin go and he has to choose who he trusts the most. Whoever he chooses wins a special reward, and the others lose. If he doesn’t choose anyone, everyone loses.”

“I thought he didn’t remember anything?“ Sure, concentrate on the important things, Scott, Peter thinks, nevermind asking what’s that special reward… and more importantly, what’s the punishment for losing. “How is that fair?”

“He doesn’t,” the thing nods, petting the ears again. The kit grumbles and swats at the hand like a kitty would at someone annoying. Everyone’s breath catches but the thing just laughs. “But I’m not unfair, the memories are there, deep down, so he’ll choose whom he instinctively trusts the most… which can be no one at all. Have you all been good?” It enquiries mockingly.

There’s a pregnant pause and the thing cackles. After the nogitsune and baby Argent’s very near death, Stiles has been avoiding everyone. Be it because they truly wanted to give him space (or they justified it like that anyway, in Peter’s very uncharitable opinion) or because they wanted to give him a wide berth, no one has been close to him these past few weeks. Peter, being the persistent bastard he is, has been tracking him down out of boredom just for the fun of bickering with him, but…

“We’ll play,” Scott says.

Peter regrets, he regrets so much. Damn the faery court’s rules that state that only the alpha or the alpha’s chosen representative can talk. Scott’s very own brain is about seven years old right now and sporting fox ears, claws, teeth and tail.

“Excellent!”

Peter hates Deaton with the heat of a thousand burning suns right now. Damn him for suggesting making a deal with the faery to heal Stiles and rid him of the nogitsune’s taint. If Peter wasn’t so estranged from the pack… If he had heard about this beforehand he would have…

“Wait! You didn’t say the rules! Can we call him? What’s the reward?”

The thing sets Stiles down, steadying him, before setting his dark beady eyes on Scott and smiling. “Oh, my bad,” it singsongs disturbingly as it lets go. “Whoever he choses gets to keep their life, the rest, well. And if he doesn’t choose anyone, everyone dies and this adorable pumpkin will be the court’s pet,” it finishes as faery guards fill the clearing.

They’re screwed. Completely screwed. Peter’s is going to find a way to haunt Alan Deaton into an early grave for this, because when he was thinking about greener pastures he didn’t mean this . He ignores the incredulous shouts and checks the clearing for an escape route so that, when Stiles inevitably chooses his father, maybe he can slip out in the commotion…

Small hands pat his leg and he looks down surprised to find the hopeful eyes of the kit fixed on him. Stiles makes an up gesture, wanting to be picked up and he obliges even though everything in him feels like jelly at having dodged the bullet, so to speak. There are shouts and angry voices right beside him but he can’t quite hear it above the ringing of his ears.

(He’s going to survive.)

Then, Stiles jerks in his hands suddenly and looking in his eyes, he knows that the boy has just remembered everything. Peter’s hairs stand on end as energy starts to concentrate on Stiles, and he just knows this whole thing isn’t going to end well as the faeries do the same.

(Or maybe not.)

If he hadn’t been right in the middle of it, Peter would have said that the colorful explosion was magnificent.

(For a moment he wonders how different his life would have been if the fire never happened.)

—

Peter wakes up with a shout and then starts choking. There’s poison in the air and he doesn’t recognize where he is. He falls from the bed coughing, his lungs burning horribly. He forces himself up, tumbles to the nearest window and tries to open it, only for the wood to burn his hands. The crackle of fire reaches his ears. Like lightning, memories flood him and his whole body convulses in protest, in horrified denial.

It can’t be.

Is this his particular and very personal hell? Whatever he’s done in his life, even killing Laura, doesn’t warrant this kind of punishment. He doesn’t deserve to relive this night. He doesn’t. Peter isn’t a good man, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

He won’t.

He won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him struggle and despair and hurt and fail. For once, he’ll accept what’s coming even if only to be a contrary bastard and not give them the satisfaction of doing what they want him to do. According the time the clock in his table is showing, it will be at least two hours until everything goes to hell (oh, the irony), and Peter is going to wait for it calmly, in peace. He closes his eyes.

He must have nodded off (probably the effect of the wolfbane in the air) because the next thing he knows is that there is a child spewing profanities right beside him and shaking him.

A child with fox ears, claws, teeth and tail. Stiles. He startles, shaking off the sluggishness that still lingered. Whatever Stiles is painting on his arm helps clear his head too.

“PETER! I swear to God, you bastard! Wake up, come on! The mountain ash is gone but I can’t do anything about the fire! You have to help me get them out!”

It’s not hell or a dream.

He raises, pulling the kit with him as he does so, and takes off running to locate and wake the rest of the family. He knows that Stiles won’t obey if he tells him to wait outside, so he doesn’t even try.

Derek and Laura arrive just as he’s pulling the last one out of the house. Derek screams and Peter doesn’t have to investigate much to know why. Kate Argent is pinned to the very first tree in the yard, making wet gurgling sounds as her own blood chokes her. Peter can’t find it in him to feel sorry for his nephew, and if that makes him a bad person, well, tell him something he doesn’t know already.

He drops to the floor as his legs start to tremble. He nearly just let go. He nearly lost everything again without even fighting it. He can hear the kids crying but he can’t deal with it right now, not when he can’t even breathe properly himself.

“Breathe,” Stiles says as he climbs into his lap. Peter’s arms circle him tightly before he can even think about it. “Breathe, Peter. Come on, listen to my heart.”

And Peter does, burying his head on the crook of Stiles’ neck. Talia is saying something but he doesn’t care. Kate emits another gurgle and Derek cries harder, Laura trying to console him, but that sound is like music to his ears, helping his heart calm.

—

Destroying the Argents is a balm to Peter’s soul. If he hadn’t been so out of his mind (an omega or very nearly one) the first time he went after them, he’d had chosen this route of revenge. Why kill them if he can make sure they suffer for many years to come? Or in Gerard, Kate and their hunter’s case, make them suffer through two weeks of imprisonment, interrogation and then sitting powerless as the matriarch was forced to execute them for their crimes. Kate was especially satisfying because she suffered two weeks with minimal pain relieving medication before being condemned to die.

“Psycho,” Stiles says rolling his eyes as he goes back to complete his homework, bored out of his mind. His ears even flicker in irritation and Peter’s bloodthirsty expression turns fond and amused.

“Kettle, meet teapot,” Peter drawls, remembering what Stiles did to Eichen House, and the kit sniffs but doesn’t resist as he pulls him into his lap, scenting him thoroughly.

Laura chooses that very exact moment to enter into his study without knocking. She scrunches her nose at the sight but very wisely keeps her mouth shut. Well, she’s not completely stupid then, congratulations Talia. But then again, even the sheriff has given up on saying anything after one day Stiles dragged him aside. He’ll probably never know what Stiles said to his father that day because he did something to make the room soundproof, but whatever he said did the trick, because the man never said anything about it again.

(Stiles is his anchor, his pack above pack. He won’t let anyone take anything from him without fighting ever again.)

“Derek wants to talk to you,” Laura says.

“Mmhm,” he answers raising an eyebrow. “And why isn’t he here then?"

“Please, uncle Peter?”

Derek has been going to therapy for a year now. He started talking again not so long ago and his frame is not so gaunt anymore. A vicious part of Peter wants him to suffer for as many years as Peter did for his stupidity first and then his betrayal. Laura too, to be honest, even if the only way he can hurt her now is by not helping Derek. Another part of him remembers that Derek suffered for years in their original timeline and that he killed Laura for her transgressions. Besides, if he’s just, in this time they have done no such thing. He sighs and Stiles rubs his chin on his arm.

“You shouldn’t meddle, Laura.” She purses her lips, obviously trying to contain a tirade about Derek just being a kid and many things he has heard before and he continues before she can even get a word in. “When is his therapy session?” She gapes. “Well?”

They still haven’t decided what to do about the Nemeton or the alpha pack, and they don’t know exactly how this whole time travel thing happened. Stiles is pretty sure that it was the result of the combination of his protective magic, the fairy’s powers and Peter’s desire to see what would have happened if there had been no fire, but Peter himself doesn’t really care about the how, so long those fairies don’t come back to finish what they started. Peter has everything he wants and needs, he thinks absently as he rubs his cheek on Stiles’ unfairly soft hair, so maybe it’s time to let go now.

[asociallyawkwardteen]

Scared || Yang Jeongin (I.N) FF || Pt. 1

>Pt.1< | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 (soon)

Pairing: Reader x Jeongin (I.N)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Mention of Social Anxiety, Social Isolation and Depression, so please if you get easily triggered by the mentioned things stop reading here.

Disclaimer: English is not my first Language so please don’t mind my bad  grammar ^^’

Our little story actually started a while ago, to be more exact you were around 5 or 6 years old back then.

You and your mom had a little weekend ritual, every Saturday you two would go out to the little park not far from your Apartment, and so you did this Saturday too, and as always you begged your mom to take at least one toy with you.

And since you did that a couple of times before it wasn’t really hard for you to convince her. “okay but you have to take care of it, if it breaks or you loose it, you won’t get a new one”

You nodded our little head in excitement and rushed to your room, a few moments later you came back with your little blue plastic ball which was nearly bigger than your head.

You mom smiled as she saw your hand wrapped around it. “so the ball it is?”

She only earned a nod from you again.

Soon after you headed to the Park, it was a pretty little park with 2 swings, 1 normal slide, a little “castle” as how the kids called it and a big area in which you and your mom decided to stay.

You two stared to play a bit with the ball, nothing big only throwing it to each other and catching it.

About 15min in your game you mom excused her to sit down on the bench not far from you, “Don’t worry I will always have a eye on you my little princess~”

You smiled at her and started to think of a game you could play alone, not because there weren’t any kids around - well there weren’t much- but thee main reason was that you were shy, you didn’t now how you should approach then and you somehow didn’t want to either.

Due to you being a single child you learned how to entertain yourself pretty soon and you always got new ideas so you didn’t get bored at all.

Soon you got an idea and started to throw the ball in the air trying it hold t up as long as possible, at some point you somehow managed to throw it really far so you started running, eyes glued to the blue ball and arms raised up to catch it once it got down, you obviously didn’t watch where you were running, believing that there won’t be any other kids around.

But little did you know there were and soon enough you bumped into someones back.

The kid was ready to scream at you because he thought it was one of his friends slowly turned around “He-”

You looked at the boy with big eyes, scared because of him raising his voice at you. you couldn’t stand when people screamed at you so you slowly looked to the ground.

“ 미안 해요” (Mianhaeyo.../ I’m Sorry) you whispered barely noticeable and slightly bowed not daring to look up at the probably angry looking boy.

The boy just looked at you not knowing what he should do now but this actually would change soon.

You totally forgot about your ball already so you really didn’t expect it, when it come crashing down and hitting you on the head.

With a little “ow” you fell back in the grass, eyes closed and one hand on your head where the ball just hit it.

The boy in front of you widened his eyes as he saw the ball hitting your small doll like head.

He looked at you worried only thinking ‘Please don’t start crying’. And you didn’t somehow it didn’t hurt much but you still were in shock.

“A..are you okay..?” you heard a sweet voice in front of you.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times to get a clear view. You only looked at him not sure what to say/do.He slowly extended his hand, attempting to help you up.Gladly you accepted his offer and he pulled you back up on your feet. You rubbed your head, frowning a bit.

“Does it hurt?” He asked still looking at you

You just shook your head, i mean it did but you didn’t want to look like a crybaby.

“Are you sure” he asked again.

“yes” you quietly answered, looked at you a little bit surprised since he thought he would only earn another nod.

He started to look around, and leaving soon after, your eyes followed him a little bit confused but once you saw that he just left to get your ball you had to smile a little.

He rushed back to you handing you the ball.

“Thanks, sorry for running into you...”

“Don’t mind that anymore, okay?”

“Jeongin!” you heard a female voice shout, instantly the boy in front of you turned is head.

“I have to go now..” and with that being said he left you standing there. You figured that it was also time to head back to your mum, and a few moments later you were already on you way home.

You didn’t tell your mum what happened because she only would be worried. Still your mind was circling around the boy you met today, he somehow had a energy to him that made you curious but sadly you probably won’t be seeing him ever again.

But what you didn’t know was that the boy was just as fascinated from you as you were from him. So on his way home he started to bombard his mother with questions.

Jeongin: “Mommy? can i ask you something?”

His mom chuckled, “Sure you can you don’t need to ask that” she answered still smiling at her son’s behavior.

Jeongin: “I saw a girl today, she was playing all by herself, it seemed like she didn’t have friends... do you know her?”

The boy’s mom thought for a moment, “I may not know her but a friend’s friend told me that she told her that her daughter is very shy around people so every time they go to the park she rather plays by herself then with other kids.

Jeongin looked around while carefully listening to his mothers words.

he whispers: “she must feel lonely...”

his mom continued talking “apparently even in Kindergarten she is very likely to be alone, but why are you asking about her?”

“oh, I was just curious since I never saw her here before”

“Well that might be because we normally don’t come here on Saturdays, my friend told me that Saturday was the only day her friend can spent time with her daughter due to her busy work schedule”

The boy only nodded and stayed silent the rest of their way, his mind still busy thinking about you.

~lil time skip~

A week has passed and you finally went to the park again today you dragged a badminton set with you, the bat barely even fitting in you small hands but luckily your mom got a smaller and a lighter one just for you.

As always you played together with your mom for the first 15 - 20 minutes, and once she left you started to play alone again, you tried to hold badminton ball (I honestly have no idea how you call that thing, if anyone know that please tell me!) up in the air as long as possible.

You couldn’t hold it up longer than 2 or 3 times, but when you finally held it up for at least 5 hits something/someone surprised you.

“Y/N?”

You froze for a second and just watched the ball (still no idea how its called) fall to the ground, kinda sad that that person had the attitude to interrupt you playing, oh yeah right someone called out your name but wait nobody knew you name here except you mom.

You frowned and slowly turned around to see who the person, but once you say him you only got more confused.

Jeongin, the boy from last week  stood in front of you his hand behind his back

You probably looked hella confused because he had to chuckle a bit at y´the face you were making.

Now both of you stood there not really knowing what to do next, you because you were really confused how he knew your name and what he wanted, and he because he actually didn’t think that he would get this far.

He finally got his voice back, “Hey, can I play with you”

You somehow didn’t really need company but you didn’t want to be rude either so you just nodded.

“But you have to take to heavy one” you said barely hear able, yet he heard it.   “It’s to heavy for me” you added even more quiet

He just smiled and took the other bat and you started playing.

And that was basically the beginning of your first ever friendship.

~As the years go by~

You and Jeongin became best friends, well probably more, he is like your real brother you both even got your braces only a few weeks apart from each other (not planing it tho)

Jeongin was like the only person you trusted and so far to only one you didn’t make your regret letting in your life.

You were shy ever since so that definitely didn’t change through out your life, which made it even harder to make friends but you were okay with that.

Throughout, elementary and middle school you were fine with that, you didn’t even really realize it, and people kept telling you that it is normal to be shy, and that they were shy too but now they made it t something and all that.

But it was the last year of middle school when it hit you, you had a fight with your best girl friend and you didn’t speak to each other, you realized that you were completely alone, all the other people in you class went to her and had a good time during the breaks n which you only set in your class at your table, eating you sandwich, all by yourself.

You fell deep back then, deep in a bad state of mind you never thought you could get into because until now your life was fine.

You found out a lot about yourself during that time, and suddenly everything was clear, but also a little to late.

All the times you were on these class trips and your bff wanted to drag you to play truth or dare with the others, you denied, you didn’t want to and you somehow had no idea how to do it either. I mean sure you knew how to play truth or dare duuh but something was off.

You now knew how you mental state was and at was eyeopening, yet you didn’t tell anybody, not you bff not you mom and definitely not Jeongin. And honestly it was because you were so embarrassed to tell other people, which probably would only think that you were not appreciating you good life.

And because of that you learned how to hide and cover up all that was going on in you mind, you kept being the quiet girl in class not talking unless you really had to. And once middle school was over you felt relived, so got damn relived to finally never see all those people again, all those people that without even realizing it ruined you, you were ready to finally open up a new chapter. Which would be better than this one, or at least you imagined it that way.

~ ~ ~

Well so I guess this is the end of the first part of this little FF.

If anyone even read that crap please tell me what you think about it!

I will try to bring out the next part within the next week I guess idk I am slow at writing so yeah.

Anyways hope you have a good day/night and if not, tomorrow's gonna be better!~

~J☯

[mariequitecontrarie]

Meet Me in the Courtyard: Part 5

Summary: Belle takes her new friend Leroy’s advice and shows up at Gold’s with dinner—unannounced and uninvited.   The Fic: Belle hosts a monthly movie night in Storybrooke, always leaving the seat next to her empty. Gold loathes movies, yet movie night at the library is the one community event even he can’t seem to resist.  Rating: T A/N: Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Please don’t tell anyone.” I know it’s been forever and you’re probably wondering if I was ever going to update. Thanks to @still-searching47 for looking over this for me!

{On AO3} Previous parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4

Branan Gold was a terrible excuse for a fugitive.

In the past two weeks, he had played duck and weave at the park, pretended to study a display of star fruit in the grocery store, and even crouched behind his display case in the shop, the tips of his ears burning with shame as he waited for a certain auburn-haired beauty to cross the street and pass by on the sidewalk.

Gold had been avoiding Belle French for exactly 13 days, ever since the pornography incident in his back room. The circumstances went far beyond his discomfiture at the X-rated seventies film his son Neal had loaded on the old-fashioned projector. Gold had behaved like an overgrown child, letting Ruby Lucas worm under his skin like an infection with her sardonic humor and cutting remarks. All he’d cared about in the moment was getting his pound of flesh on his own turf, but he’d regretted volleying back Ms. Lucas’s insults every day since.

Mostly he regretted embarrassing Belle, but he didn’t know quite how to apologize.

Besides getting tongue-tied in her presence, he was absolute garbage at playing inconspicuous. His bad knee made quick moves impossible, and his penchant for bespoke Italian wool caused him to stand out in a crowd. The worst part was, he didn’t want to avoid Belle—not really. Each time he’d seen her, he’d been unable to stop himself from staring—drinking in her remarkable beauty had become a habit he couldn’t seem to break. He’d longed to reach out, to say hello, tease her into speaking first. He was half agony and half hope that she would walk up to him and slap his smug face or yell at him at the top of her lungs. Anything to break the tense silence between them. But other than waiting for Belle to make the first move, what other option was available?

Leaning heavily on his cane, Gold poured himself another healthy glass of scotch—his third of the evening—and wondered not for the first time why he was such an unmitigated ass. It’s self-preservation, nothing more.

Another plaintive whine came from the back porch from the half-grown puppy he’d found in the alley between his shop and the Fish and Chips place next door. The dog had shown up about a month ago, fur muddy and smelling of sewage. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and given him a bath in the sanitary tub and a bowl of kibble, and the puppy had come around every morning for a week, whimpering at Gold with wet, melting brown eyes. One afternoon he had followed Gold home and set up camp on the porch. Little savage. He could hang around outside of the house all he liked, but if he didn’t leave off the crying and scratching at the door, Gold was going to make good on his repeated threats to call Animal Control.

Ignoring the whimpering pup, he limped over to his favorite leather recliner, settled against the worn leather, then pulled an afghan over his legs. Hell, maybe he’d even sleep downstairs tonight. It seemed like exactly the sort of thing a crabby old bastard would do. His bad knee was tired, loose and wobbly from the effects of the alcohol, warm and languid in his veins.

He flipped on the television and leafed through the channels till he found something mindless. The Cooking Channel was doing a foodumentary on the history of popcorn—his ex-wife’s favorite. Foul, disgusting excuse for a snack. He slumped deeper into chair and forced himself to watch the program, disgust keeping him from drifting back into daydreams of Belle using his shoulder as a pillow while their fingers intertwined inside a box of Junior Mints.

Another insistent whine filtered through the back wall of the house, and when the mewls turned to howls, Gold drained his glass of scotch in one fiery gulp and peered at the blank screen of his cell phone. What a pathetic sack he was.

There was no point in pursuing this thing with Belle, only to be cast aside when she discovered what everyone else already had—he was too boring to bother truly knowing and too damaged inside to be worth the trouble. He was like one of those vases that eager, star-eyed innocents took onto Antiques Roadshow, hoping to strike it big with a valuable piece—the veneer was smooth and polished, but the vessel itself worth the grand total of $20 and change.

Gold glanced at the back windows; it was only September—still warm enough outside for an animal to be safe and comfortable—but maybe he should let the dog in for a couple of hours.

The doorbell rang, its obnoxious peal echoing through the house. Gold scowled; no one ever came to visit, so it was either a sales call or his son. The boy was always forgetting his key; it was a miracle he had survived three years of college in Boston. All he’d managed to accomplish was spending $200,000 in tuition for a pre-law degree and getting expelled a semester before graduation. Neal’s lock-picking skills weren’t appreciated—particularly when executed on university property.

At 22, the boy was taking a year to find himself. Translation: he was situated at the top of the stairs in his old bedroom, spending his days playing video games and his evenings doodling in a notebook and making eyes at Emma Swan. So much wasted potential.

Muttering as he padded into the hallway, Gold threw open the door.

To Belle French.

“I’ve brought Chinese,” she announced, peeking over the top of a huge brown paper bag.

Shoots of steam snaked into the cooling evening air, causing curly tendrils of hair to stick to her forehead. Gold took a half-step backward in surprise. He’d never expected her to show up here. Every lousy excuse he’d made about why continuing their friendship was a terrible idea flew out of his brain like bats swarming out of a cave at dusk.

Yes, he was a terrible fugitive indeed.

“I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.” The question in her muffled voice came from behind the bag.

His stomach gurgled on command, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He’d thought to simply polish off the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and pass out in his recliner, but he decided against sharing such pitiful plans.

Gold sniffed the air in appreciation. “Sizzling garlic shrimp?”

The bag lowered, and her face split in a wide smile, all shell pink lips and gleaming white teeth. “I wouldn’t dare darken your door without it.”

He hefted the bag from her arms with a short laugh. The scotch had done its job, and he was a little tipsy, his head fuzzy. “Come on in,” he said, leading the way through the foyer into the kitchen.

The bag seemed bottomless as Belle pulled out an endless parade of white square cartons, lining them up on the counter like little soldiers. Auburn curls were tousled around her shoulders, and she looked deliciously at home in his kitchen in blue jeans and a fitted white oxford shirt unbuttoned almost to the middle of her chest. A frilly pink tank top accentuated her lovely breasts and creamy skin. He shifted his weight and clenched the handle of his cane.

“You’ve enough to feed an army in here,” he said, dragging his gaze away from her décolletage. A pamphlet fluttered to the floor and he swiped it up, relieved to have something useful to do. “And dry cleaning coupons?”

“Those are for you. Compliments of Leroy over at Snowy White’s.” Another one of her sunny smiles lit up the dreary room.

“I’ve never gotten a coupon from Leroy in ten years of taking my suits there. He must really like you.” Instead of staring at her like a halfwit, he busied himself with fetching napkins and silverware, while Belle dished up plates piled high with garlic shrimp, Singapore noodles, fried rice, and boneless spare ribs.

The steam rolled off the food in white, puffy waves, making his forehead tingle. A few minutes later they were ready to sit down, and his buzz was already wearing off. He leaned against the counter for support; his face felt numb, his tongue two sizes too big for his mouth. How stupid would he look if he dropped his food? His sweaty hands tightened around the edges of his plate as he shuffled toward the kitchen table.

“I’m hot,” he blurted, his leg twitching when Belle chose the chair beside his. “I meant the food is hot. Not me. I’m not hot…” His upper lip prickled with sweat, and he blotted his face with a napkin.

Belle set her fork down. “Gold?”

“Yes?”

She smiled, her azure eyes soft and kind. “Relax, okay? It’s just takeout, not an interrogation.”

“I appreciate that, Belle, but I need to say something.”

“All right.” She folded her hands and bit down on her lower lip.

“I’m really sorry for my behavior at the shop a couple of weeks ago.”  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “The movie was inexcusable, but so was my treatment of Miss Lucas.”

“It’s all right. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Ruby was rude to both of us, and it made me so angry I couldn’t see straight. And then I saw you out at the market and on the street, but I didn’t know what to say. So many times I started to walk over and talk to you, but I couldn’t get the words out.”  She bit her lip again. “Then a friend gave me some advice. He told me if I truly cared about this—us—I had to find a way in, break the tension. So here I am.”

“I’m glad.” The tightness in his chest loosened and he twirled a forkful of lo mein round and round while it cooled. Knowing he wasn’t alone in his nervousness—or his growing feelings—gave him more hope than he’d had in a long time. “And you don’t owe me an apology, Belle. Nothing that happened was your fault.”

“You know—” she placed her warm, soft hand over his—“we spend an awful lot of our time together apologizing and explaining ourselves. Let’s just eat some dinner and chat about normal things.”

He turned his hand over and squeezed her fingers. “I would like that.”

She scooted closer, until their knees touched under the table. “How was your day at the shop? Have you acquired any fascinating new objects?”

“Knock, knock.” Neal entered through the back door, an arm draped around Emma Swan’s shoulders. “Hiya Pop. Is this a moo shu pork party?”

Perfect.

“It was a party for two,” Gold muttered under his breath. He dropped his fork on a sigh, his hopes of a quiet evening  with Belle dashed. For once, things had been going well and selfishly, he didn’t want to share her or open himself up to embarrassment. “As usual, son, your timing is impeccable.”

“Yeah?” Neal chuckled, eyeing the countertop filled with takeout boxes. “I’ve got a talent for sniffing out Chinese.”

Gold snorted. “I think you mean food in general. Belle, this is Bae, er, Neal, and his girlfriend, Emma.”

“I remember.” Belle grinned at his son and Emma, welcoming and gracious as always. “Join us, please! And help yourselves—I brought plenty.”

xoxo

It hadn’t been the Saturday night she’d planned, but it was the most pleasant one Belle had spent in weeks.

Buoyed by Leroy’s pep talk, she had abandoned her cheeseburger and stomped up Gold’s porch steps, her stilettos clicking in time to the nervous thump of her heart. She rang the doorbell and held her breath, clutching the oversized sack of Chinese food to her chest like a lifeline. She’d never shown up at anyone’s house with dinner unannounced. Maybe she should have called first to make sure he was home, or hadn’t eaten, or if he still liked Chinese food, or…

Belle, you think too much. Leroy’s encouragements echoed in her ears.

But she needn’t have worried. Gold’s home was an extension of his shop—comfortable and resembling a museum in its vast collection of things; teeming with gleaming wall-to-wall hardwood, threadbare area rugs, and antiques of all shapes and sizes. Then there was the man himself who, beneath the grouchy exterior, was so much more than met the eye. His insightful questions about the library and his admiring glances made her feel intelligent and special, and she felt herself redden when he insisted on pulling out her chair when she rose from the table.

After a lively dinner, Belle, Gold, Neal, and Emma moved to the den to nibble on Mr. Wong’s trademark fortune cookies and fresh oranges. Belle sank into the leather loveseat and patted the spot beside her. Gold looked surprised, but he moved his arm over the back of the sofa and edged half an inch closer. Belle frowned; she would have to work harder on putting him at ease and showing him his touch was welcome.

“Thank you for dinner, Belle.” His lips almost grazed her ear and Belle shivered in delight. “Everything was delicious.”

“That Chinese was money and I’m stuffed.” Neal dropped onto the couch opposite the loveseat with a groan. “Caps lock on the delicious, Belle.”

“My pleasure. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Anyway, how is work at the library? I mean, I don’t really do the thing with the…” Neal mimed turning pages. “Ya know, with the books?”

“Reading?” Gold supplied dryly, and they all laughed.

The younger man was goofy, but his wide grin and the laugh lines bracketing his generous mouth were absolutely charming, reminding Belle of his father’s cautious, lopsided smile. Every so often, Gold grinned wide enough to showcase his generous dimples and Belle’s heart fluttered. She wanted to press a kiss to his cheek and nuzzle her face against his whiskers. She wanted to sink her hands into his hair and pull him in for a kiss, right in front of Neal and Emma.

If she was attracted to Gold before tonight, watching the interactions between father and son had her half in love with him. Their gentle squabbling was endearing, the way Gold pretended to be put out with his son, yet pride was an undercurrent in every word he said.

“But I dig on the whole movie thing you’re doing outside,” Neal added, scanning Netflix in search of something for them all to watch.

“Me too,” Emma hollered from the kitchen where she was making hot chocolate. “I like the way you mix new releases in with classics.”

“Papa loves to read, though. He likes orchestra and opera and poetry.” Neal carried a fistful of fried noodles to his mouth. “All that classy shit. Just like you.”

“Your father—and his love of ‘classy shit’—is absolutely charming.” Belle linked her arm through his and sidled closer until she and Gold were seated hip-to-hip, thighs pressed together, his delicious, spicy scent making her nostrils flare and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Charming, huh?” Another grin split Neal’s face, and he leaned forward, warming to his task of would-be matchmaker. “You know, he’s an animal lover, too.”

Belle squeezed Gold’s knee, delighted when he jumped a bit. He wasn’t as unaffected by her as he pretended to be. “Yes, you have quite a few strays coming to the side door of the shop for scraps, don’t you, Gold? Before you know it, you’ll have a pet of your own.” She cocked her head and sipped her Gewürztraminer, hearing another tiny mewl from outside. “Speaking of animals, I’ve been hearing barking from the direction of the backyard all evening. Do the neighbors have a dog?”

The patter of tiny feet clicked against the floorboards, and a half-grown chocolate brown pug with a square face rounded the back of the sofa and jumped into Gold’s lap.

“Oh!” Belle squealed.

“Your dog was crying outside, Mr. Gold,” Emma called. “So I let him in.”

“This isn’t my dog.” Gold crossed his arms and tried to wriggle away. “He’s just another stray. Take him back outside.”

“Right.” Neal snorted. “You just feed him and let him sleep here. Makes total sense. I suppose that’s not his water bowl out in the pantry, too.” He lifted a stack of mail. “Look, here’s his vet bill—right on top.”

The puppy wormed against Gold’s chest, nudging Belle out of the way with a plaintive moan, then attacked his master’s face with a long pink tongue.

“Oh, he loves you, Gold. Adorable, darling thing!” Belle cooed at the puppy and scratched him behind the ears. An animal lover herself, she spent every Saturday morning at the Storybrooke Animal Shelter. Sometimes she would sit on the tile floor and cuddle the dogs for her entire shift. “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have a name. He doesn’t live here because he doesn’t belong to me, the little beastie.” To prove his point, Gold scooped the puppy up and deposited him into Belle’s lap.

“Why are you such a hard ass?” Neal shook his head.

“Years of practice.” Gold waved a hand. “But if you don’t like it, feel free to move out of your old bedroom and into your own place.”

“I think he’s hungry,” Belle said, ignoring Gold’s harsh words and gruff demeanor. The grooves in his forehead softened when he looked at that little wrinkled black face, the same way they did when he looked at his son.

“I don’t think we should feed a dog Chinese food,” Emma announced, returning from the kitchen. She tapped the dark frame of her glasses. “Too rich for his stomach.”

Neal nodded. “You’re right, babe. How about a piece of that leftover pizza, instead? Pizza crust is a lot like a bagel.”

“Great idea. I’ll go get it.” Emma went back to the kitchen, her long ponytail swinging behind her, and Belle hid a grin as Neal watched her go. He was head-over-heels with the lovely, no-nonsense blonde, and Belle thought they made an excellent match.

Belle squinted in thought.  She didn’t wish to intrude, but feeding a puppy takeout was never a good idea. “What about puppy chow?” she suggested.

They all looked at Gold, who opened his mouth, then clamped it shut without saying a word.

Neal sent his father another feigned disgusted look. “We don’t have any. He’s not our dog.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gold muttered. “His food is in the closet at the top of the stairs.” He turned to Belle, his amber eyes wide and beseeching. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“You have my word.” She splayed her hand over her heart, which was now pounding  so hard she thought the entire neighborhood could hear it.

Forget halfway; she was almost certainly three-quarters of the way in love with him.

###